Throwing a Party

Whether you've bought a new house, graduated from college, or just want to see who can fit the most light bulbs in their mouth, throwing a party is a great way to bring everyone together for some fun.

When planning a bash the first and most obvious step in the process is sending out invitations. People need to know I'm throwing a party, otherwise I'm not. Friends, family, people I see on the street, TV, or in my dreams, they're all getting an invite. No one is off limits. Not illegal immigrants, not even Eskimos.

Once the invitations have been sent all I need to do is sit back and watch as the RSVPs flood my mailbox. And I know they will. It's not every day that I send a party invite to every man, woman, and child in the western hemisphere. No sir, that is a weekly thing.

After I've received my mountain of RSVPs, or three, it's time to stock up on supplies. This is the part where I have to remember that even too much isn't enough. If I normally buy two of an item, I need six. If I normally buy six, I need eighteen. If I normally buy eighteen, I need a calculator. And the list goes on and on.

Once I have all of my supplies stockpiled the only thing left to do is wait for the guests to arrive. As I'm waiting I like to give myself a pep talk. Going over to the mirror I look myself dead in the eye and say, "This party is going to rule. You have six bottles of soda, eighteen bags of chips, and countless light bulbs. Barring some freak natural disaster, nothing could ruin this, not even a bear."

With my pep talk wrapped up, I look at my watch and realize that everyone's running a few minutes late, give or take a couple hours. No big deal, I think to myself. But after two more hours pass, I begin to get worried. The deal seems to be getting bigger. What if no one shows up? What if I bought all of these supplies for nothing? What if the same thing happens next week? But that's when I remember that people never show up to my parties, and that must be getting pretty tiring. I know I'm sick of it.

As the clock strikes midnight I figure I'll give one last effort to get this party started. Opening the door I yell, "PARTY!.....PARTY!.....PARTY!" into the neighborhood. I know it's a long shot, but nothing says "party" quite like me. After the fifth yell, I get that sinking feeling that no one is going to respond. Oh well, there's always next time, I tell myself. If at first you don't succeed, try, try again weekly.