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Monday evening our downstairs neighbor, Heather, rang the doorbell to invite us to a Chanukah party the following evening (that's last night). I said that I'd be there, and would have to see about ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cattitude: I like her more than he does, am generally happier about parties, and was expecting to be more energetic.
We rang her bell around 8 last night, and found a very flustered Heather apologizing for being behind with the preparations, and one other guest. This meant--as is normal in my social circles--that we pitched in. The other guest was--literally--pushy about trying to get me to do things she didn't want to, but I mostly ignored her and talked to Heather. Cattitude hung decorations, I cut up vegetables, and then we went back upstairs because Andy wasn't feeling well.
As Heather had suggested, I went back a while later, but Cattitude stayed home. I hung out in the kitchen again, in large part because that was where Heather was: she was the only person there I knew, and the others all knew each other. (She'd been unable to find the other neighbor she wanted to invite.) She was pleased by my suggestion of adding nutmeg to the soup, and I was pleased that she didn't mind my reaching for her spice rack and grabbing the jar of nutmeg while she was the one cooking.
There were ridiculous amounts of food: latkes, of course, the pumpkin soup, crudites, smoked fish, two breads, an assortment of wine and soda. We convinced her that she didn't need to make falafel, given the amount of food relative to the size of the party.
Heather told someone that she had been "surprised Vicki isn't Jewish", so I explained that actually I am, but not observant; I managed to remember about half of the Hebrew for the blessing over the Chanukah candles; there was a discussion of whether multiple menorahs are required, or allowed, which ended in my pointing out that "it's not a mitzvah to set the building on fire" after the candles in the second menorah started falling over. The food was good, but I didn't feel any connection with any of Heather's friends; these things happen. And I was encouraged to bring things upstairs for Cattitude to eat, especially soup--because he was sick--and latkes, because they're symbolic holiday food. So that all worked out well.
cattitude: I like her more than he does, am generally happier about parties, and was expecting to be more energetic.We rang her bell around 8 last night, and found a very flustered Heather apologizing for being behind with the preparations, and one other guest. This meant--as is normal in my social circles--that we pitched in. The other guest was--literally--pushy about trying to get me to do things she didn't want to, but I mostly ignored her and talked to Heather. Cattitude hung decorations, I cut up vegetables, and then we went back upstairs because Andy wasn't feeling well.
As Heather had suggested, I went back a while later, but Cattitude stayed home. I hung out in the kitchen again, in large part because that was where Heather was: she was the only person there I knew, and the others all knew each other. (She'd been unable to find the other neighbor she wanted to invite.) She was pleased by my suggestion of adding nutmeg to the soup, and I was pleased that she didn't mind my reaching for her spice rack and grabbing the jar of nutmeg while she was the one cooking.
There were ridiculous amounts of food: latkes, of course, the pumpkin soup, crudites, smoked fish, two breads, an assortment of wine and soda. We convinced her that she didn't need to make falafel, given the amount of food relative to the size of the party.
Heather told someone that she had been "surprised Vicki isn't Jewish", so I explained that actually I am, but not observant; I managed to remember about half of the Hebrew for the blessing over the Chanukah candles; there was a discussion of whether multiple menorahs are required, or allowed, which ended in my pointing out that "it's not a mitzvah to set the building on fire" after the candles in the second menorah started falling over. The food was good, but I didn't feel any connection with any of Heather's friends; these things happen. And I was encouraged to bring things upstairs for Cattitude to eat, especially soup--because he was sick--and latkes, because they're symbolic holiday food. So that all worked out well.