Friday, 14 September 2012

40th Birthday Preparations

One more day to the party!  Today is probably going to be one of the busiest (mum in law shopping, dress fitting, dessert buying….), not including tomorrow but seen as I am writing this in advance I may well be wrong.

When my mum turned 40 she didn’t want a party, not even a fuss.  Of course, we ignored her.  When she arrived home that night after work, on her moped, she saw the white bed sheet hanging on the front of the house saying “Happy 40th Birthday” and continued riding past the house.  Where she thought she was going to go to is unknown – she would have had to come home eventually.

We held a huge garden party for her and she, her family and friends drank themselves into oblivion.  I spent most of it in the garage with my boyfriend sat on beanbags and snogging.  At the time I obviously thought a perm would look good; 10 years later the photograph of us in the garage was destroyed because that hideous perm should never been seen again in the light of day.

Anyhoo, unlike my mum I am relishing in my age.  I refuse to grown old “gracefully” and grow my grey hair out as my mum frequently tells me to do.  Thanks to my mum’s genes it is completely grey - 40 is too young for such a drastic measure.

I am happier now than I have ever been, both in myself as an individual and with my life.  Yes, I have body hang-ups but then most women do and I would wish to have less debt but again so do most people. 

I consider the happiness I have with Hubby and Beautiful B and my mum and dad the most important thing and that couldn’t be better.  I am surrounded by beautiful family and close friends and that is all I need.

I have long said I wanted a 40th birthday party with a novelty birthday cake I can look at and say “Yes, that is my personality; it describes me to a T.”  I had no intention of organising the cake as I want it to be a surprise.  Hubby looked like a rabbit staring at 2 headlights at the thought of such responsibility, Beautiful B was no fazed by it at all and Angel has been rubbing her hands with glee since I first requested it.

Having ordered the wedding cake from someone Angel recommended I already knew the myriad of flavours available (10 which does not compare to the US – sometimes I think I live in the wrong country) and requested that at least some of the cake was lemon and lime flavour.  Beautiful B and Angel have been sending texts back and forth for the last few weeks and I have been ordered to deliver a parcel (that I must not peek at) from Beautiful B to Angel.  This cake is going to be FABULOUS.

Not so fabulous is the board of photographs that Angel has decided must go up.  The one that will depict my life from me being a cute baby, blonde toddler, uncomfortable teenager with BAD hair, fat years and now (less fat but not thin…). I’ve decided to roll with it, there is no point arguing and if there are cringe worthy photographs up there then they can be compared to how I look now; or that is the theory.

The DJ was booked; I have spoken to him 3 times to confirm his attendance, not that I am stressing (liar, liar, pants on fire), he has a list of requested songs and of course the music has to be from the 80’s and include some American tunes from that time.  Oh and don’t forget the Time Warp!

I have been buying decorations periodically as I see them which seems to have stressed me out all the more for some strange reason.  Beautiful B is now in charge of getting balloons.

I booked a buffet; there is no way I am spending Saturday making food all day!  The price for a standard buffet of sandwiches, sausage rolls, pork pies and the like was astronomical and I refused to pay it.  So warm food it is.  The emails back and forth between Hubby and me about whether we went with a selection of hot food or just one type was ridiculous:

Me:                  “How about we order 20 servings each of the following: hot pot, lasagne and garlic bread, minted lamb casserole with crusty bread and a few portions of vegetable curry for any vegetarians?”

Hubby:            “Maybe we should just go with one type.”

Me:                  “Why, pray tell?”

Hubby:            “What if someone wants lasagne and there is none left?  It may cause problems.”

Me:                  “Ridiculous.  Alternatively, what if we go for only hot pot and someone doesn’t like hot pot?”  Either way there might be problems.  You are stressing too much (do as I say, not as I do).”

Hubby:            “Up to you then honey.”

…and it was.  I should never have asked him and just done what I wanted in the first place but at least he felt included ;-)  He lets me do whatever I want; I should know that by now.

So the buffet is simple, right?  Pay someone else to make it and better still pay an extra £20 for someone to come and serve it for an hour.  So there is nothing for me to do with the buffet, right?

Erm, no….

Now I have decided I want a bit of a candy buffet but the price of those is ridiculous and I refuse to pay someone the mark up they are requesting.  Cue ordering glass vases and containers and buying pink and red sweets – price; I dare not say and stress through the roof.  Should have booked one after all!

Oh and the table cannot be bare can it….so cue buying crisps, pretzels and because peanuts are banned because someone has a severe nut allergy; popcorn.  Oh, and of course as people like my cupcakes I am making 2 different flavours of those.  In fact, I am probably making them on Saturday morning!

Friday night or Saturday morning is a visit to the cash and carry for catering size cakes and desserts because I refuse to pay £1.99 a head for a slice of apple pie and cream when I can buy a whole apple pie for that and feed 8 people.

So no, no stress with the buffet of course, as you can see.  Oh and now, I am wondering if it will look strange as people arrive – a table full of just sweets, snacks, cup cakes and desserts.  Maybe I should make a few sandwiches or buy a few pork pies and make a couple of tossed salads…..

I am fantastic to live with at the moment.  I spend the waking hours worrying about heart palpitations and a heavy feeling in my chest, my head is all over the place and concentration is shot and Hubby has started paying more attention as a passenger in the car as I tend to be on autopilot and lose the inability to drive anywhere but home and work without gentle reminders.

At least I am sleeping better at night, the only problem is that my brain is that exhausted I am incapable of sitting down after 8.30pm without falling asleep even if I am watching a film I find totally hilarious.

At least the dress is sorted.  Hubby told me which one looked better and I trust him completely.  Now I just need to decide which of my 60 pairs of shoes goes best with it because surely I don’t need to buy another pair of shoes….

My hair appointment is sorted so at least I will be made to sit down for an hour and a half and do nothing while that is done; though admittedly someone may need to hold my head up if I fall asleep on her.

All this is going on around preparations for the wedding.  Within the above timescales I have a dress fitting and a make-up trial because now I have decided that I cannot be bothered with stressing about doing my make up on my wedding day.

I wonder if the doctor can prescribe some Valium……

It will be worth it, I am now at least aware that as well as that medicine ball sat on my chest, excitement is welling.  The alcohol will be flowing though the plan is to alternate an alcoholic drink with a soft drink as I have to drive Hubby and I to a wedding further down the country the following morning.  It remains to be seen if that plan stays in place as the alcohol starts to take effect on Saturday night.

Spending a night with family, best friends, close friends and work colleagues who like me enough to celebrate with me?  Priceless and worth all the stress - every last minute of it. 

I look forward to the photographs, regardless of whether some of them will be cringe worthy or not.

Now that reminds me, I wonder if Beautiful B would like her hair done by the hairdresser too…

No comments:

Post a Comment