Birthday Party

"You always find things you didn't know you were going to say, and that is the adventure of writing." (John Updike)

Just when I think I don't have another blog to post, my brain goes into overload with gazoodles of ideas that wink at me like fireflies floating on an evening breeze.

I was invited to a birthday party this evening - and, I went. Wouldn't have, though, if the person hosting the party would have conveniently lost my phone number and hadn't dialed me up this afternoon to remind me! Without giving it much prior thought, I agreed to show up at the appropriate time and place.

It's probably gauche of me to interpose I wasn't thrilled to be there. One of the Son of a Blogitches was there! The gods of the blog world must have been busy today plotting against me because of my previous post. How much fun did I have? Enjoyed myself about as much as I would if I were strapped onto the infamous and torturous rack and had to listen to you run your fingernails over a chalk board.

Please don't think of me as a snob - never have been accused of being so. I have no idea why I was invited to this party. I mean, I fit in about as well as a Democratic Presidential Nominee at the Republican Convention! Knew very few of the people there and the Son of Blogitch made a point of sitting beside me while I attempted to choke down barbeque, baked beans, and potato salad. I don't mean that the food was bad - it's difficult to eat ANYTHING with a Son of Blogitch making others believe I was even paying attention to him!

After what I hoped was a polite length of time to remain present, I made a hasty retreat out the side door. Lo and behold, the Son of a Blogitch yelled at me "You aren't going home already, are you?" But, I continued on at a dead run, punching my "open the car door now" remote frantically, literally jumped into my car and very nearly cut off my left foot in my haste to shut the door - all the while pretending I hadn't heard him and therefore I could say I didn't if asked about it later! I know, I know. It would be a lie. Who's to know? Are you going to tell the Son of a Blogitch?