This weekend Alex and I threw a housewarming party to celebrate the good riddance of all moving boxes in our new apartment. If by chance you are reading this and we’re pretty good friends and you didn’t get an invitation, I have no idea why. I’m sorry for being a jerkface.
Obsessing might be a strong word for my method of party planning, but it’s not far off. I started to meticulously consider the menu the second the facebook invitations went out. I knew I wanted a fall-ish theme but nothing too Halloween-y. I knew I wanted to make food that would be easy to eat without any kind of utensil and could fit onto a cocktail napkin.
It started pretty innocently and then escalated into a frenzy of party preparedness. I spotted the perfect cocktail napkins at Target. I made a return trip to actually purchase said napkins when I didn’t see a better alternative anywhere else. I made maple spiced nuts a day ahead of time, Bon Appetit’s Halloween candy bark the morning of, then whipped up Martha’s blue cheese walnut spread and stuffed sweet potato skins just hours until party time. Sounds easy, right?
That said, it all came out relatively okay. I shouted at Alex and the dog a few times during the process and repeatedly banished them both from the kitchen. Everything was in place by party o’clock though, and guests began to file in. My parents were the first to arrive, and they brought a homemade spice cake and a crock pot for a gift – party officially started!
Then things started to unwind into craziness. Maureen brought a moving, flashing skull with a dip that looked like muscle tissue. Laura and David brought macaroons and punch, and when that was gone, another punch was improvised.
Late into the night, we decided to move the party to Lackman. We corralled everyone out the door and, in an effort to keep the dog out of a potential smorgasbord of food on the kitchen counter, we put her upstairs in the bathroom.
Imagine how surprised we were when we came home and the dog greeted us at the front door. Like a little velociraptor, she had figured out how to work the door handle and set herself loose on a buffet of party food. Macaroon wrappers littered the floor. She had pink cheese dip matted in the fur under her chin. The loaves of spice cake were conspicuously missing. Of all our guests that night, she partied the hardest.
We cleaned up as best as a couple of drunk people can at 2AM with help from Meg and Eric. Later, the dog paid for her overindulgence with a night of gastrointestinal distress. So in turn, we paid for it too. But that’s what hosting a party is all about, I guess. I’d like to think that she learned a lesson, but I know that’s not true. She’d steal my lunch just as soon as I turned my back on it. We’re the ones who learned a lesson – jam the door shut with a chair when you leave your dog in the bathroom.
Photos lovingly stolen from Alex. And thanks to everyone who came out to celebrate our new home!
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