Why I don't plan parties II

I've always had a fear that if I tried to plan a party, no one would come.

Deep-rooted insecurity issues, I suppose. I also have fears about losing my teeth, and, when I was a child, I had an overwhelming fear of puppets.

I would consider my fear of parties an irrational fear. Perhaps I watched too many coming-of-age movies where the girl, in braces, bad hair and a puffy-sleeved dress, sat at home surrounded by balloons, waiting for the popular kids, who were at someone else's house partying the night away.

I hate puffy sleeves, and I never understood why AnnWithAn'e' of Green Gables wanted them so. And I only ever had eight braces on my teeth -- four top and four bottom. Maybe I had bad hair, then. I don't know; I just know that I believe no one will come if I'm the central driving force behind a party.

Except, Saturday's party went quite well. We had a great turnout, and it seems as though everyone had fun. I almost didn't make it-- the train I was waiting for had a 'medical emergency,' and firefighters, cops and paramedics swarmed the station before everything calmed down and the train started running again. That all only took about 10 minutes, and I even saw a friend, who chatted with me until we had to transfer trains. Despite that mishap, and the inability to figure how to get the bride-to-be to her own shower without ruining the surprise, things went quite well.

Until the next day.

The next day I learned that the bride-to-be had hated it, and the bridesmaids were never, ever to surprise her again. *Gulp!*

Perhaps I wasn’t so far off with my assumptions in the first place. But whether or not everyone enjoyed it, it WAS a fabulous party-—with no lonely, puffy-sleeved girls in sight.