We all love a good party. We admire those that throw fabulous parties and often aspire to be like them. I'm not a very good party planner/thrower and I will be the first to admit it. I do like to have them but I don't do it very often.
My good friend Polly Anna (not really her name) is a fantastic party planner. In fact, I have made her "Head Party Planner" of The Cool Chick Club. If the Cool Chick Club members ever need to have a national convention we are so hiring her to plan it! I have never been to a bad party hosted by Polly Anna. She always has great themes, includes everyone and makes you feel welcome...even if you did crash it with your kids and animals. It's always stress free to go to her parties...all you have to do is show up to have a good time. AND....................she always sends you home with some little gift for attending. LOVE THAT! I think that's why I never miss a party she's having. Invited or not...In my mind, even a bad party should be like this because............. WE ARE OVER 40! We don't have to have keggers anymore and even if we do, they should still be done with a little class and etiquette.
Just my opinion.
So this morning, Polly Anna and I are chatting, and she starts telling me about a party she has been invited to. In true gossip fashion, we start picking apart why IT'S ALL WRONG!! And, how it's doomed from the beginning with the number of Emily Post violations just in the invitation. This got us on the subject of parties that we have attended that have not been thoroughly thought out, seen as rude to others, made you say "what the hell?" or flat out tacky. So I started telling her my stories of the two tackiest and weirdest parties that I have ever been to.
The first one was a wedding reception that I attended in the late 80's. It was held on the parking pad between two duplex apartments. Urban Cowboy was the theme, and there were two big ole gals, with big ole hair, with big ole earrings, big ole cowboy hats and Virgina slim cigarettes hanging out of their mouths... servin up cake. Did I mention the ladies had big ole long painted acrylic nails that were huge! (I refer to them as chicken claws..) They were smoking, slicing cake, chatting about how tacky this reception was, and pushing the cake off of the knife, on to the plates with their chicken claws. Then.........SUCKING (no, I'm not kiddin') the frosting out of their nails and going to serve the next piece of cake. It was at that point I decided I needed to say "Congrats" to the couple and be on my way.
Bad party #2........A small wedding that was both, the bride and groom's second marriage. A nice little outdoor wedding in the yard of a community hall. The neighbor kids' dog had got loose and ran through the wedding ceremony with kids in tow screaming Scooter's name trying to catch him. A small interruption, but they got married anyway. Then it was off to the reception where immediately, everyone started going to their cars for coolers and crockpots. I asked another friend fetching her cooler what was up. She said the bride had called everyone last night and asked them to bring a dish so they didn't have to pay a caterer. Uhmmmm I didn't get that call! So there I was.... Empty handed again. Entering the reception I thought to myself......."right about now, a nice stiff drink would be in order." To my surprise, my choices were water from the tap in the kitchen (nice wedding cups sitting next to the sink) or beer out of the keg. "I'll have a beer!" I say to myself.......oh wait........I FORGOT MY MONEY FOR THE KEG DONATION! Yup, there it was...a basket with a handwritten note asking for donations. WTF??? Again, I had to say my congrats to the bride and groom and exit hastily. I would like to say on a happy note.......They split up and divorced 2 months later.
I also attended a wedding where the official of the wedding was drunk and couldn't remember the bride or grooms name during the ceremony. Not a pretty scene after the ceremony.
So later on today I was having lunch with some long time girlfriends and I brought up this subject of bad parties. Well they all jumped in telling their stories. A favorite.............the friend who always invites everyone over for a BBQ but wants them to bring their own wine and meat. Like Hip Girl said..........."If I have to take everything there why the hell don't I just stay home and have her over to my house?" Well said.
So this has prompted me to have a contest. This contest will run May 17th -27th
Please send me your stories of the worst or tackiest party get together whatever, you have ever been too. Not one that was meant to be horrible (Ugly Christmas Sweater Party), one that just ended up that way. Funny, sad, why you hate your mother-in-law... I don't care. Let's hear em! All stories will be judged by myself and Polly Anna... and we will be using Emily Post as our guide. The more violations the better.
You can e-mail your stories to me and I will post them on my blog, or you can post them in the comments area. The top two will be awarded prizes. It will be a fantastic prize too! Nothing Tacky! You already had to endure the horrible party, you should finally be compensated for the huge waste of time you will never get back. Prize pictures soon to be posted. Git to Writin'!!!
The prizes are....
Your choice of Lolita glass.
Glamour Girl Martini
Leopard Print Wine
Mommy's Pacifier...This is very cute
P.S Ladies, I'm putting together for more of these. If there is a special one you would like I'll be happy to order it for you. They make great gifts!
Let me know and I can quote you some prices.
Here are some of the stories sent to me by e-mail
This story was sent in by Lisa Rae. Ooooooooh it's good! Yet another case of .........bad circumstances make bad parties.
Well here it is. This is probably my worst party experience mostly because, we don't get invited to many parties, (we're lots of fun, we just have no friends) not because I have been to so many and this is the worst of the worst...but it ain't good.
It was back when I was a very sophisticated 19 year old. My girlfriend who had lived across the street from me when we were kids was getting married to the father of her baby. This was his 2nd, it was a great start. I was the lucky Maid of Honor. Mostly, I think I was her only friend she could rely on to show up sober.
She had no money, no family and was marrying an idiot and to tell you the truth, much as I loved her, I didn't want to be there.
First there was the dress she wanted me to wear. Now mind you it was the 80's, but being a MOH in a Gunny Sax dress wasn't my idea of cool, when I knew I could dress more like Madonna (I had so much great underwear and cross necklaces) and bring some true class to this wedding. Much as I tried to talk her out of it, I was wearing the calico Gunny Sax, and hating every minute of it.
So my boyfriend and I get to the church and I help her get dressed as we are waiting for the rest of the wedding party. ie: the drunken groom and best man. Well she has this beautiful white dress that buttons all down the back, that she got a great price on, and I'm thinking-"Wow something is how it should be here". Until I start buttoning her in, and realize there are way more loops than buttons. Great sale this must have been..I try and tuck in the extra loops the best I can when I look down and see that she hasn't changed her shoes. "Hey" I say, "You'd better go get your shoes on" I get a blank stare. I realize I stuck my foot in my mouth. Except my feet aren't wearing black pumps with a white wedding gown like hers are. Oh well, maybe no one will be looking at her feet. Especially since she will be trying to hold up her Rum and Coked up groom!
All ready to go down the aisle now-oops-where are the groom and best man? Frantically looking out the sacred church window (swearing) we wait...Oh-here they come-lets go-but wait-the black pump is stuck in the heat vent on the floor. Now I'm thinking, barefoot is better anyway, but she doesn't agree. Finally we rip her shoe from the vent. Damaged heel aside everything is okay.
In walks Groom and Best-Man. (By the way-they are a 1/2 hour late-there was drinkin' to be done!) Okay-let's get this overwith-but oops! Where is the ring? Best Man supposed to have ring-Best Man lost ring-Best Man sacrifices his own ring to put on brides finger, (I swear it was a skull and cross bones), can ya feel the love? So off we all go, most of the party stumbling down the aisle. The wedding was wonderful, the minister kept having to ask their names, the groom could hardly stand, the skull and crossbones fell off her finger, and I kept trying to be Madonna while feeling like Lily Tomlin.
Whew! Wedding over-on to the reception. I can't wait to get into my jeans and celebrate this sacred event! So we drive to the reception hall...oh..I mean TRAILER PARK! Yes, it was great. (I think I heard banjos playin). We pull up to the central trailer where all the Pall Mall smokin family members of the groom are gettin out the fixins, get out of the car and I hear the groom yelling "Party-Where's the KEG?!!!" By now he is in his plaid shirt and Levi's (Sorry Mr. Strauss) and I think she is in the Gunny Sax I took off. Who knows, they all really looked alike.
Well now she starts crying because he's drunk, she doesn't have a ring and - oh yeah- she MARRIED HIM! I'd be crying too. That was it for me-even the free beer didn't make me wanna stay.
6 years later when I got married, I invited her to my wedding. She called and told me she just couldn't come because she was getting a divorce and it was to hard to go to a wedding now. 6 years and 4 more kids later!!!! I wasn't shocked that she was getting a divorce-I was shocked she had slept with him 4 more times!
Story From Shawn in Seattle.........
The year was 1986- a summer of partying after graduating from highschool. A friend was dating a slightly older guy who shared a house with a friend and we headed to an evening party expecting the usual mix of young people drinking and flirting, enjoying a warm summer night.
But someone brought a recently paroled convict who was renting a room from his mom... the guy squirted lotion in the palm of his hand and walked around showing everyone how much it looked like semen and kept simulating jacking off. We were all getting increasingly creeped out and avoiding him when someone made the mistake of suggesting he was over compensating for insecurities about his penis size. I was sitting down when he appeared next to me and dropped his pants, angrily announcing to the world that he was perfectly well endowed. Nothing like a felon's ball sac in your 18-year-old face to make you want to head home.
Not the best story but one that has always stayed in my head.
5 days ago