Monday, June 21, 2010

Bring out your good hair, it's club night!

Age doesn’t scare me. I didn’t have a breakdown at 30, nor did I go into a depression when I discovered my hairdresser mixing ‘gray out’ into my hair color, however one thing is for certain; this dancing queen no longer dances all night.   
Still a bit tired from Kathy Griffin night, prep for the luncheon did not begin until 7:30 am the day of.  With coffee in hand and a little top 40 on the radio, I began mixing and baking with a few prayers thrown in for good measure.  Luckily, Ina Garten never lets me down.  This menu was easily prepared, quickly plated, and made a wonderful presentation.... well, almost, but I’ll get to that.  As the ladies greeted each other, few went for wine at the noon hour, making the fresh lemonade the drink of choice.  
At the table, which was beautifully set by Food Intolerance, I began picking through my salad and discovered the most disgusting faux pas: one of my very own gray-out ‘dark chocolate’ dyed hairs mixed with the beautifully roasted chicken, fresh grapes, and fantastic tarragon dressing.   As I thanked God that I received the given plate, I began scouring other plates for similar culprits but just as my energy level ain’t what it used to be, my eyes aren’t either. Gladly moving on to dessert, the refreshing sorbet with berries and cream were placed in antique glasses and presented hair-free to our guests.  As we caught up on all things baby, weddings, and the like it seemed a wonderful way to spend the afternoon.  As our guests began to clear out to deal with real life, I secretly wondered if this would be the last Food Intolerance luncheon.  If so, best make it one to remember. 
I love to cook and I love this blog, however I’ve discovered I can love it even more when the day ends with champagne, foot massages, mini facials, spray tans, aroma therapy massage, hot rocks, and a polish change. Joined at Trellis with my ladies who lunch poolside, (party #34) we indulged in a quick makeup application and decided to keep the night rolling at the Houstonian Club Party.   Truth be known, I have not been to a club in quite a while, however at the Houstonian, it feels like yesterday; the music is the same, the curfew is the same, and the company is more likely to kick up their heels than keep up appearances.  So, with flats on my feet and fully relaxed shoulders, I partied the night away... well, until 10:30 at least. 
As I made my way home to a husband, two sleeping kiddos, and a leftover slice of homemade pizza, I called the party and evening a success.   Life may not have turned out exactly as I envisioned it the first time I danced to Prince 1999, but it’s fantastic in its own rite. 
The Party in Numbers:
Parties Completed: 43
Weeks Before Deadline: 12
Bottles consumed: 1 (we moved to gratis and a cash bar at location #2)
Justified Purchases: zero! 

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