Quote:
Originally Posted by whatever2013
@Soupe du jour and all:
Yes, we're online at the same time despite the six-hour time difference as i get up with the birds in the Spring. But i feel all that good energy slipping away now, i'm so hurt by my friend's rejection.
Oh well, i had a great time, the high-light of which was the party i threw -- very uncharacteristic for me and only the fourth party i've thrown in my life and i'm 54. I imagine YOU'VE thrown lots of parties, with your elite cooking and baking skills, serving exquisite hors d'oeuvres and meals.
My mom baked from scratch too, many types of quiche tarts, pigs-in-a-blanket, etc. She had this no-fail pastry recipe that's been lost over the years. I did a bit of baking as a teen to please my dad, but mostly i was too busy doing push-ups for gymnastics.
Once i made a Father's Day brunch and i made everything from scratch, right down to the tablecloth and napkin rings, this really cheerful green gingham. (I sewed as a teen too.) My dad got tears in his eyes and all choked up when he told my uncle about it.
But he didn't say a word to me.
Jane.
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The Father's Day brunch you described sounds wonderful! I'm sorry your dad didn't tell you directly, but at least you know (indirectly) how much it meant to him. It's clear you know what the heck you're doing as a party hostess. I sure wish I could come over some time.
I've actually not hosted many big parties. Strangely, despite having 100% confidence and pride in my cooking abilities, hosting caused me a great deal of anxiety and stress. Even with close family, in the beginning. But over the course of my life I've grown less anxious, but still prefer to only host four people max. Part of my problem is that I set too high of expectations for myself. I'm often my own worst enemy. You can't imagine how many times in the past I had to excuse myself to wipe anxiety-induced sweat off my forehead. Even change. [It can pour, causing a Catch 22.] Or excuse myself to the bathroom to compose myself. This is no exaggeration! Luckily, I've never had that anxiety when only cooking for my husband. My husband never judges me, or at least not in any major way. In fact, he's more generous to me than he is to anyone else in his life, including himself. It goes both ways.
I've encountered a strange contradiction in my life, partly related to my bipolar disorder. At times, fearless "Star of the Show". Or Teflon. Other times, social/performance anxiety with terror about public speaking or public performance. How I could be an ambitious dancer, at some times, and one that hides in the wings, another. I don't know. You know, some of my more traumatic moments in life related to public displays -- mostly when in a mania, or worse, a mixed state. Sometimes not even during, but after-the-fact, when what I did fully hit me. It was hard to even talk about them. Then at times, the stories would come out "matter-of-fact". And then be painful spots again. I've got some doozies when it comes to stories.