“Why are you doing this? What is the occasion?” asked someone close to me that I see on a weekly basis these days (don’t ask who it was, I won’t incriminate myself). At the time of the inquiry, I was due to have a last-minute party at my house in just a few days. I was dumbfounded by the question. For our recent anniversary? Not really. To ditch my mom-duties for a few hours? Sure. To get drunk? Maybe a little bit. To enjoy the company of my longtime friends without our children interrupting every other sentence? Yes. But there was a bigger reason pushing me to throw this inexplicable bash that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. “I don’t know… I just thought it’d be fun since summer’s almost over,” I replied. “Hm,” the inquisitor responded. I could tell she wasn’t satisfied with my response (and seemed really confused about it too). Whatever. I liked parties. Sue me. Maybe I did want to tip back a few and dance on the tables. Not to mention I have a strange obsession for rearranging and decorating my backyard.
But deep down I knew my last minute, panicked attempt to extend summer went beyond a longtime hankering to set up a make-your-own Bloody Mary bar with striped straws and pink and red salts.
Yes, that’s my empty glass (and toes).
Summer was almost over. Another summer was ending.
The last few months have been fabulous, but also semi-bipolar. How else can you explain a heavy, jam-packed rotation of fun girl time with Grandma, Auntie and Cute-Little-Niece at the beach, stupid fights with your spouse, laughing family staycations, a medical thing I had to get double-checked (which thankfully turned out ok) and two funerals of much-loved family friends? Yes, I said TWO funerals… within a two-week period. I should mention that these were close family friends. Like, REALLY close family friends… people that were central fixtures in my memories as a kid… family vacations, church life, weddings, baptisms, New Years Eve celebrations at my mom’s house. People who were PART of my life. One passing was tragic, the other was old age. Both lives well-lived, both funerals very sad. Time and life pass very quickly, and we forget that they do until funerals remind us that they do. That’s when the sadness turns into facing our own mortality, which then turns into a sense of urgency to ‘complete’ our own lives as much as we possibly can before they end without our consent.
Not to get doom and gloom or anything, but it’s an unavoidable part of life. Following a stream of cars behind a hearst (in a motorcade) two weeks in a row gets a girl thinking. The day after my backyard bash, I finally reconciled a deeper answer to that big “Why are you doing this party” question I encountered days earlier: Even though I’m young (well hey, I am sorta… right?) I could be gone tomorrow. So could you (sorry, but you know I’m right). We all know how fragile life is, get freaked out (should the thought strike us at a particularly vulnerable moment), and then just like that we forget it all and go back to rushing around and usual ruts because we can’t spend all our time fearing what we can’t control anyways (not to mention, there are things to get DONE, bills to pay, children to raise). Inevitably, we then find ourselves glancing at our calendars, questioning: How is it already December?!? Summer was ending just as I was getting into the swing of it. So I infused mini-tomatoes with vodka (thanks Lilyshop).
Like a shot on a toothpick. Dipped in salt.
Parties are my ANSWER. Figuratively, spiritually and physically. Whenever I find myself slumping, I throw a party. (Now you know my secret.) Remember that thing about lighting your own firework? If I didn’t set something on fire – FAST – summer would be o-v-e-r. And then: Blip! Poof! One more season GONE that none of us ain’t ever gonna get back. In my looming middle-age (gasp!), I’m starting to think: Life is pretty much about making memories. The more memories you make in your small universe, the happier you will be in this looney-tunes and confusing world. The catch with my theory-based-on-nothing is that YOU must MAKE the memory. I know: NONE OF US HAVE TIME (myself included). But all worthwhile things require effort. Sometimes things happen effortlessly, but sometimes it takes serious initiative, energy, creativity and sweat. I slaved, toiled and carefully rolled my mom’s incomparable recipe for my most favorite Armenian appetizer.
Yalanchi (Armenian appetizer). Not that difficult, but takes TIME.
All good things come to those who hustle… that includes hustling for FUN. And if you don’t hustle during the summer of your life, when can you? FUN is important. FUN is renewing. FUN is a required weapon to combat all the crap that we experience on the news, online and in our own lives that brings us down. These last few years, I’ve made it a point to ‘enlist and accomplish’ 2-3 party-type situations (per year) at my home for the sheer sake of celebrating nothing. FIGHT FOR FUN.
Ready for guest arrival!
So to answer the Why-did-I-do-it question at the top of this post? Answer: To give power to love, happiness and making a kick-a$$ memory with people I care about in a life that’s been whizzing by at warp-speed. That’s the best reason I can think of.
WHEN’S YOUR NEXT PARTY?
Really love this. Party on.