Production Notes

And it's a wrap. The shower has fallen and cleared (accompanied by actual downpours) and I'm going to call it a success!

When it came down to it, T, C and I were a lean, mean machine of party prep, and T's house looked gorgeous (too bad someone got purple Sharpie all over her white couch--oof! I swear it wasn't me!) She had all these crazy tiered dishes and platters, and I had fun arranging my hot-pink cupcakes and tea sandwiches on them. C placed beautiful flowers everywhere, and did not skimp on the Prosecco. The "Hawaiian Volcano" punch, filled with scoops of rainbow sherbet (why? because there's something to be said for certain cheesy party traditions) looked great and tasted even better. T even had this cool black stone slab where I arranged the cheeses (including one called Drunken Goat), and then wrote in chalk underneath what they were called, surrounding the whole adorableness with red grapes and fig spread.

I am suddenly kicking myself--hard--for not taking photos of the set-up. What is my problem? I should not be allowed to blog.

Lindsey and I were in no mood for egg salad at the actual party, after having been roundly punished with egg fumes at midnight and again at 7:30 a.m. when we had to de-crust bread triangles and stuff them with watercress and gooey stuff. Her entire apartment smelled like egg--we each felt like we'd already eaten a whole bowl.

And I learned that it's not just propaganda that L.A. women scorn carbs--we had over a dozen bagels, and--be still, my heart--about 15 cupcakes--left at the end.

Baby Bingo was strangely popular, and people got really competitive about it, questioning the rules and policies until my head spun. ("If something is both "pink" and "fluffy," do we get two squares? If it's both a toy and a rattle, will you make the official call?") And everyone seemed charmed by the baby-shaped homemade chocolate favors.

("Not chocolate babies," says David. "No cannibalism at the shower." Actually, they were little bottles, duckies, booties, blocks, trains, pacifiers, etc.)

Though I had to hover, I believe everyone wrote their advice and best wishes in the guest book for Lindsey and Thomas (probably skewing towards the best wishes column, since most of the guests did not have children) and Lindsey got some really cute loot (heavy on the blankies) as well as some practical items like a bathtub and Diaper Genie. Everyone exclaimed on how amazing she's looking (she's only gained 16 lbs) and she seemed to be having fun.

T and I ended up sharing a couple of OCD traits: a no-shoe policy (a bit inconvenient on a rainy day--my bare feet felt like they were encased in ice) and a powerful desire to have the kitchen spotless even during the party. I met a lot of nice people and got to catch up with four friends of Lindsey's whom I've known a long time. Lindsey tore through the gifts and people were off shortly after, so we were actually done early.

Nice to have a trunk full of cupcakes and bagels to bring home to David and Jarrah, too. Not to mention extra chocolate babies. When I finally got back to San Diego (after a detour to visit my mom and pop in the OC) I was ready for bed at 8:30.

Couldn't have done it without Lindsey and Thomas--it's a bit cringe-y to think how much they did to help, but I'm thankful. And they took me out to Father's Office (where some people actually gave us their table because Lindsey's pregnant--she was all like "no, that's okay, really" but Thomas and I were like "thank you!" and sat down--the place is wall-to-wall people) and Sweet Lady Jane (I'm fairly certain my slice of Classic Chocolate Cake could win awards for both taste and size) on top of that.

I wish I could say that I could sit around and watch "Gossip Girl" and congratulate myself today, but I have a major project for my new college class, and a play that isn't going to cast itself, so I need to stay focused. I want to thank all of you for your support and suggestions--I really did use a lot of them, and my appreciation is boundless.