Friday, November 16, 2007

It's a rite of passage, I suppose.

Tomorrow night, G's boss and his boss' wife are coming over for dinner and I'm completely freaking out, people. I'm not sure why--it's not like I've never thrown a dinner party before. But for whatever reason, I'm having the kind of anxiety usually reserved for first-time skydiving and OB/GYN appointments. I should be in the kitchen making the sauce for my baked ziti, but instead I'm sketching elaborate plans to develop an appendicitis in the late afternoon. A properly timed emergency surgery is sure to necessitate a reschedule, don't you think? The only flaw I can see is my lack of appendix. Plan B, anyone?

3 Comments:

At 11:26 AM , Blogger knitty-nay said...

I can stage a fake emergency "HELP ME LUCY!" phone call at a predetermined time if you like...then you can run out and save the day in their eyes...

but I imagine it will go flawlessly, you are a wonderful hostess and they will have a lovely time- wish I was coming too, I love ziti!

 
At 7:39 PM , Blogger Jessica M said...

I hope you remembered to wear your pearls while you vacuumed. Might help you channel June Cleaver. :-)

 
At 9:50 AM , Blogger ljlkc said...

Who do I channel if I'm wearing an old t-shirt and boxer shorts?

 

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