If I throw a part in San Francisco I may have to eat the chicken bones

This upcoming summer promises to be a time of great change in my life. I will supposedly make the final move from New York to San Francisco. I will complete my fifth cross-country road trip and in making such a trip I will then just have one remaining state before I can say I have spent significant time in all 50 states in the US. Furthermore, my son will be turning 7 years old. Growing up, the age of 7 was always deemed a major milestone. To me, it means that slowly he is becoming my little man and will at one point very quickly turn around and leave me to start his own life.   To see his development and growth these past years has been a wondrous event in my life.

With all this that is going on in my life this summer, I should throw a party.  I should throw a housewarming party. I should throw a bucket list party. I should throw a birthday party.  Indeed, it is time for a party. Or not!

I have only thrown three parties in my life and I have never had my own birthday party.  I threw a birthday party for my son last summer that nearly drove me to the edge of my sanity.   Fellow mothers are crazy when it comes to children’s parties and I never want to go through that again. My son noted that we would be moving cross country right around his birthday and that perhaps it would not be possible to throw him a party. How very adult of him to think through. I was impressed. I thus might get a reprieve this year.  I am hoping that maybe we can just take a cruise to Alaska fro his birthday. And then I would have hit all 50 states. Some colleagues have offered to throw me a “debutante” party of sorts announcing my arrival to the California/ East Bay scene and perhaps turning it into a fundraiser. That would be an awesome gesture but also has me worried for then I really will have to work the crowd.

Someone noted recently that I have great social skills. Yet, deep inside I don’t feel like I do. I am one of those odd “shy extroverts”.   For me, I am just acting a part of a social person. I do not feel it inside, however.  Thus, parties in my honor will just cause me further heartburn. However, if a party is in my honor I hope that means I can make sure that there are plenty of Mojitos for me to enjoy.

Now, as for a housewarming party. What a nightmare of an idea. And it is made even worse by being in San Francisco. Let me explain. You invite people over to your new abode. You have to clean and scrub mightily beforehand so that people can then traipse all about your newly cleaned place.  That seems like a lot of work to me. Then, you have to be charming and extoll the virtues of your new location even if I may not be feeling it. Then, the worse part of it all, you then have to compost after everyone leaves. In San Francisco, you are mandated to compost and I have seen some people go way over board in their composting. So much so that I have been tempted to eat the chicken bones so that everyone can relax afterwards. What drives me even more crazy is that one has to pay for garbage and compost pickup and there is a dissertation-length set of rules. I just want to drink my Mojitos and not worry about where the remaining mint is going to go. Is that too much to ask for?

I do not want to throw a party at my scrubbed-down house and have to then mop, sweep and sort throw the garbage. What kind of housewarming is that truly?

I suppose I sound like a party pooper.  I can’t even imagine what the garbage pails will look like for Christmas.

I think I will forgo a party this summer and just go on a trip somewhere that i can just lie on the beach and get some sun. Did I mention how foggy and windy it is in San Francisco in the summer?