HEY! It's time for a party! A virtual party, to celebrate my one-year blogoversary AND my birthday. February 11. There is no truth to the rumor that I chose that date so I would always remember it. Nope. I wanted to give myself a gift. So I gave myself permission to seek out writerly things and put my little hobby out there for folks to see. That I had a totally different blog up and running since 2005 did not matter. It's different here at the unbagged cat house. Perhaps I should rephrase that...
The good news about my virtual party is that you're all invited! See? I'm not one of those cool kids who excludes the nose-picker and the mouth-breather and the eyeball-sniffer. Come one, come all. The only thing I ask is that you bring a covered dish for my virtual potluck. Is your imagination too poor to put a cover on your virtual dish? Not to worry. Any snack or beverage will do. Just tell me in the comments what you're bringing.
I must caution you: Don't be THAT guy. The guy who brings a loaf of day-old white bread from the outlet store. A marble rye is acceptable, as long as you don't take it with you when you leave. It matters not to me how you procure it. Chocolate babka, cinnamon babka, all babkas are equal in my eyes. I also enjoy a good nonfat yogurt, lobster bisque, calzones, muffin tops, and big salads. No eclairs off the top of the wastebasket, though.
My party will not be a sit-down, formal affair. No Veal Prince Orloff will be served. I can't pick and choose who amongst you must sit at the tiny table and share a plate. I don't have a maid named Consuela to put out a big spread. And there'll be no mutton, no Gramma Mimma's napkins, no pudding skin singles.
Be ready to be useful. A party does not just throw itself. I might need people to play music, put coats on the bed, sweep up, patrol the fish tank for tappers, keep glasses off my coffee table, and look out for double-dippers. We'll roll back the rug and have a dance contest to see who has the best thumb thing and little kicks.
Because it's my birthday, it might be nice if you whipped up something out of nothing as a homemade gift. A statue of me out of pasta, perhaps. If you're not crafty, I'll gladly accept whatever you re-gifters have to offer. Label Baby Junior? I'm down with that. Cigar Store Indian? Why not, as long as you're not going to be one of those people who gives someone something and then takes it back. I don't expect anything extravagant like a massage chair, or a big-screen TV. A watch your Uncle Leo found in the trash bin will do. A cashmere sweater (without a red dot) would be lovely. But let's get one thing straight. If you give me an astronaut pen, I'm keeping it.
Let's all be on our best behavior. I wouldn't want to saw up my banisters just because somebody got her head caught between them. No peeping in the medicine cabinet. If you smell smoke, do not shove women and children out of your way. No drinking grape juice on the white couch.
See? That's not too many rules. We'll have a fabulous time. Please stop by (with a dish and a gift, of course) and help me celebrate my year of living plagiarously.
I'll start things off. I'm providing my world-famous Chex Mix, and gifting myself with a red Solo cup to use as a pencil-holder.
You?
12 comments:
I'm down. I'll bring salad (washed in the shower), Junior Mints (they're very refreshing), and of course, Snapple. Oh, and I'll dance. I'm a good dancer, right? Happy birthday and blogoversary!
I'll bake my should-be-illegally chocolate brownies (tweaked the recipe and then added an extra bag of chocolate chips to it) with homemade chocolate chip cookie batter baked on top!
The gift - oh yeah. Jelly sticks. Whatever else would I get you? Everyone can nosh on the brownies so they won't want any icky jelly sticks and you can have them all to yourself!
What a shindig. You watch too many Seinfeld reruns, or maybe it is I, who watches the shenanigans of my favorite freaks.
Seriously, Happy Birthday!
Oh my, a to-do!!! What better dish than my insomnia inspired Casserole of Corndogs. I prefer to sit and watch the dancing, lest I should sustain an injury in my efforts to compete with others. Alas, I have no health insurance.
Oh Happy HAPPY Birthday!
I bring a big bowl of Christmas Crack! Bet you can't just eat one!
And your gift? A wonderful leftover 70's floppy hat liberally bedazzled with jewels!
Oh and A bedazzled mouse to continue your blogging! Happy Blogiversary!
I'll bring the Festivus Pole. No party is a blast without the Festivus Feats of Strength.
Tammy,
Dang! I forgot the Junior Mints!
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Carol,
You can't beat brownies and jelly sticks with a...well...with a stick!
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Linda,
Linda, Linda, Linda. Dear, sweet Linda. There is NO SUCH THING as too many Seinfeld reruns. While you are submitting your work daily (or coercing your granddaughter into writing for you, as the rumor mill suggests), I am kicked back in the recliner, happily whiling away my hours with the show about nothing.
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Kathy,
The Pony would gobble that up, forthwith. And yes, I think you're better off as a wallflower than in the thick of that dance contest.
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labbie,
Well, far be it from me to limit myself in the crack department. I am SO down with the floppy hat. Maybe it's one of those crocheted panel deals, with beer can panels to hold the jewels. And a mouse as well? You are far to generous in you bedazzling!
Sioux,
You snuck that comment in there like a sidler without a box of Tic-Tacs in his pocket!
We must be careful with the feats of strength. Kathy is uninsured. We don't want her to end up in the hospital, worried that somebody will pull the plug. Or she could become filled with Junior Mints. Or she might have to share a room with a pigman. And one of us might stop for some Jujyfruits on the way to visit her. So unless we've all worked out for a few weeks with Izzy Mandelbaum, the Festivus Feats of Strength must be curtailed.
I'm surprised Sioux didn't mention about some of doing the Elaine Dance after the Saturday Writers meeting last month!! :D
I just have one comment. I know what the nose-picker and the mouth-breather are....but what the heck is an eyeball-sniffer??!!
Becky,
The eyeball-sniffer is Kathy's dog, Toni Louise, who insists on sniffing her eyeballs. Here's a link to a post when Toni Louise was brand-spankin'-new, before her eyeball habit was discovered:
http://kampgroundkapers.blogspot.com/2011/07/meet-toni-louise.html
I think Sioux is keeping that dance thing a secret. Like, what happens at Saturday Writers meeting STAYS at Saturday Writers meeting. Except for those parts she reveals on her blog all the time. :)
Val....now doesn't that just make you want to attend one of our meetings, all the more?? Come on up, we'd love to have you!
Becky,
I'm not worthy! And I don't like city driving. But it sounds like a rip-roarin' good time. I wouldn't want anything to mar my stellar permanent record. ;)
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