the party that isn't (lyn)

After watching the Patriots and Giants win in the thrilling final minutes of their respective games on Sunday, I decide to throw a small Super Bowl party.  My two favorite teams will be playing, and I don’t want to be home alone watching, especially if the Patriots are winning and I’m getting taunting calls from my large contingency of Boston-based friends and family.

I speak to my sister Jean who throws parties of 50 or more all the time.  She has a big, perfectly designed party-house, and she is a great cook.  She offers some suggestions for the food.  “Why don’t you make chili and corn bread?  I have some great, easy recipes. You can ask your guests to bring a dish, sort of like a pot luck dinner.”  I like her idea, and it relieves me of the pressure of what to make.  I will also bake a dessert of some kind.  I go out and buy a tin baking dish in anticipation of needing one.

I invite 19 people, and soon hear back from 12…all but two have been invited to other parties.  The two who have not been invited to other parties provide excellent reasons for declining.  This is from Gail (Max and Harry are her dogs, Greg is her husband):

Hi, Lyn --

The Super Bowl over here is a deeply spiritual holiday, spent with Greg cursing at the TV, me feeding The Men’s Club (Greg, Max and Harry) and me taking a huge nap.

So, unfortunately, I already have “plans.”  

And this, from my dear friend Zelia, who is a no-nonsense kinda girl:

sorry, no interest

In the end, I speak to Penny who gets me invited to the party she is going to (I know the hosts, but not well, and they are kind enough to invite me.  Many of the people I included are already going to this party).

I send an email out canceling my event.  At least now I won't have to worry about all the fattening leftovers.