South-central Bee reporting from the Party of the Year
On Saturday, we had a party celebrating both Halloween and S's birthday. We had told all the guests to try and dress up in costumes, but I the hostess, was too tired to do so myself. So I wore a funky gown that I had and pretended to be a diva. Unfortunately, I hardly have the attitude to go with it, so I was not very convincing at all. But my guests more than made up for it, arriving in style in the most amazing and outlandish costumes. There was a fair, a butterfly, too many devils, no angels (!), a grim reaper (with fantastic make-up), a NASA astronaut, Nepalese woman, Foxy Brown, Raskolnikov (my favourite - from Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment) and many, many others. The crowd favourite by far: S's friend Panos, dressed as a baby, wearing nothing but a bonnet, bib and baby undies. Complete with a bottle and sucker in his hand! Everyone wanted pictures with Panos in his baby get-up.
Guests sorely missed: Suze now that she's a post-doc in Harvard after getting her PhD. Way to go girl! I miss you. And Soto, who was driving through Texas with his brother on a road trip vacation. You missed out on the hot girls, buddy.
Secret Society: Me, Em, Pumpkins and C (from G&C) as we kept disappearing into Em's apartment on the pretext of "just picking up some stuff", "just fixing some things". And we left the other guests wondering what we were upto. Truth is we gathered around the table for some "angel's tears", as Em loves to call his bottle of Stoli. And with each "secret trip", my cheeks got more flushed, I giggled endlessly, and the world was a better place. Oh Stoli, how I love thee! After the first shot, I came back, and my guest, the Bulgarian economist said to me "You know what they say, when the hostess looks so happy, the party is a success"!
Duties for the Night: I ran around too much, I'm a fairly conscientous hostess, and never forget the cardinal duties of being one. One, make sure everyone has a drink in their hand. Two, make sure everyone knows where the food is and that they should help themselves to it. Three, most importantly, keep checking the bathroom periodically to see that everything is, ahem, "under control". Fortunately, every guest I've ever had behaves impeccably when liquored up. All the puking stories of drunk guests I've ever heard have been at other people's homes. I confess though, I do have a certain person on my party blacklist, after I learnt that he had ruined at least two carpets in other friends' homes after a drink too many.
Fun conversations: Didn't have time for too many, but there were three that stood out. I talked to the fairy, who happened to be Italian and originally from Sicily about my trip to Italy, and we talked about how we loved Rome, and Southern Italy and such. There's such a difference between Northern and Southern Italians, even though she told me that she was from Pisa, her wonderful effervescent nature made it apparent that originally she was a Southern Italian. I'd love to travel to Sicily someday as well.
Conversations with the Bulgarian economist, who is great to talk to, interested as he is in so many different things. We exchanged notes as PhD students and about experiences working as teaching assistants. We also spoke about investment bankers selling their souls to the devil, the importance of networking and overcoming an introverted self, and mysticism and Orthodoxy, and the Eastern way of things. First Urmi and now him, my estimation of economists grows by the day!
The third conversations deserves space in the gossip section, which is presented below.
Gossip and the Naughty Bits: What's a party without some spicy broth, and we did have a few bubbling away. First the spat. So Becks, who has a very wacky sense of humour (that I enjoy immensely), when introduced to one of the guests at the party, said very loudly that she knew him well and also the fact that he had herpes! Now most of us wouldn't think twice about this, because Becks says things like this all the time. But this guest, who by the way, is a complete stranger to us, and was brought along by a friend of S's, took great offence. Not only that, he turned nasty. Apparently, he tried to grab Beck's arm, calling her a "fat bitch", with an ass too fat to be wearing a short skirt. Beck's ignored his attack, and later in the party was talking to me and the Bulgarian economist, looked around and saw this guy standing a few feet behind us. She said (loud enough for him to hear, but then she was drunk) that she didn't like him. The guy heard, came up to her, and started screaming that she was a fat bitch, and she shouldn't dare say anything about him.
Becks ignored him, but I got really angry, came face to face with him, and told him to stop insulting my friends. I told him in no uncertain terms that I would not tolerate anyone insulting my friends, that even if she did say what she did, he had no right to attack her in such crude terms. All he should have done is told her he was really hurt by her joke, and she's sensible enough to apologize and let it pass. He went away, and apparently left the party, which I felt was good riddance, because I cannot tolerate such uncouth, uncivil, guests. I really didn't have a problem that he came uninvited, I welcome every guest, invited or not, but you'd think he'd have the decency to behave himself in a stranger's house.
The Pumpkins were also part of the other big gossip buzz of the night. Apparently He Pumpkin went around flirting with all the gorgeous girls in the party. He was dressed as a pimp daddy, with a wad of fake banknotes in his pocket. By the end of the night, every cute chick had a a fake 500 dollar bill stuck in her cleavage.
She Pumpkin had some fun of her own, talking to the guys and giving one guy in particular some very wrong ideas. She chatted with a new neighbour of ours, a fairly good looking guy who was extremely helpful in offering to be the DJ of the night, mixing up the playlists. The boy was under the impression that She Pumpkin was single and looking, and assumed that she was interested in him. Em saw them chatting, and blurted out, "Keep off, she's taken"! After which, She Pumpkin ran off into Em's apartment and then left soon after. After she left, new neighbour, obviously very drunk tried to convince us, that a)she didn't mention her boyfriend even once, b) she was really interested in him, and c)when we met the Pumpkins for lunch tomorrow, we should take him along! We tried to convince him that she had been with her boyfriend for a while and was certainly not looking, and offered to hook him up with some single female friends of ours.
It was really hilarious, this conversation took place when all our guests had left, just Em, new neighbour, Nav (new neighbour's friend and our ex-neighbour) and I were left, drinking vodka and coke and eating cheese pies. Over and over, new neighbour tried to convince us that there was a spark, a connection between him and She Pumpkin, and we tried to convince him to hold his horses and calm his passionate longing :)! At last he said that he wouldn't make a move on a girl who has been with a boyfriend with more than six months. So under six months is fair game? Hmmm.....Well that's better than Em and Nabil who say, "Boyfriend, what boyfriend! Whether a girl has a boyfriend or not is immaterial in the decision to pursue her". I've certainly stayed away from the obverse of this. I've never pursued a man who I knew had a girlfriend, though I do have friends who've seduced men with steady girlfriends. I don't judge them at all.
And at 4:00 a.m. drinking vodka and coke, chatting with friends, I discovered a grave truth. I really don't like plain cheese pies (tiropites). But I love the ones with sun-dried tomatoes. Vive le fusion!