You Can’t Have a Party
©2020 Meg Bashwiner
It’s Saturday April 18th 2020 and we are in Los Angeles, California. It’s a perfect LA spring day. The bougainvillea in my driveway are popping off, really going for it, putting everything they have into be being just a delight for pollinators and soon for my party guests. I didn’t have to spend much on decorations because the flowers and plants in my yard are lush and perfect this time of year. But I did buy a few stands of string lights and some gold mylar letters that I taped the garage door that spell out “Fuck a Bitch!”
You can’t have a party without decorations.
I’m in my backyard, I’m still my pajamas and I’m setting up folding chairs and tables that I picked up from the party rental the night before. I stop paying attention to the podcast I was listening to because I catch a glimpse of my new favorite thing gleaming in the sun.
I bought myself a charcoal grill for the party and stare at it with both fear and pride as I unfold the last chair. I had avoided an outdoor grill for years but now it finally feels right. This will be the summer I get good at grilling. I’ve been planning this party for awhile and always imagined charred meats playing a key role. There’s 10lbs of pork marinating in my fridge waiting patiently for its moment on the grill for the combination build your own bo sam/ taco bar.
You can’t have a party without tons of food.
I head back inside and quickly wash the dust of my hands with cold water and start assembling the cake that I made the day before. We will also have ice cream sandwiches and a root beer float bar because why the fuck not.
You can’t have a party without cake.
My fridge is slam packed and I struggle to jenga puzzle the cake back in amongst the pounds of meat and guacamole and jello shots that have firmed up overnight.
You can’t have a party without shots.
I spend the rest of the morning completing my prep and set up. There have been shopping lists, prep lists and guest lists for weeks now. I must have taken 5 trips to various grocery stores all over the east side just to get everything we need. I’ve made so much dip. God I love dip.
You can’t have a party without dip.
I send Joseph to the store for ice and I hop in the shower. I went the Americana last week and spent the morning browsing racks and trying on dresses until I found the right one for today. To commemorate a successful shopping trip to the Americana, I waited in line for a table at Din Tai Fun for bao buns. The dress I got is great- it has three crucial qualities- it is stretchy, leopard print and It was on sale.
You can’t have a party without a party dress.
I blow dry my hair which I had cut and colored at the salon up the block a few days ago. The color is super fresh, so fresh that i’m still dripping pink water all over my bathroom when I get out of the shower. I put make up on and marvel at how my eyebrows are- carved out to perfection by a boss ass Armenian lady in Glendale who charges $30 for threading but goddamn are they a truly Michelangelo level of sculpture, one that cannot be achieved by the hand of a common person.
Joseph meets the delivery guy from Frogtown Brewery in the driveway on his way back from getting ice. Perfect timing! They roll the the keg to the backyard and set it in its tub with lots of ice. I tip the delivery guy cash and offer him an ice cream sandwich, he accepts both in his hands and tells us to have fun before getting back into his truck.
You can’t have a party without a keg.
My Mom just texted and her and my Dad are on their way over after they stop at the dispensary to grab a handful of pre-rolls. They flew in from Jersey to visit this week and are staying around the corner at an air bnb.
Joseph and I run into each other in the living room and he looks so great in his fun party dress shirt with ice cream cones printed on it. He’s been working a special birthday cocktail the party with lots of bourbon and ginger. He pulls me in close, we share a kiss and take a minute to enjoy the calm of being together alone in our house before tons of people turn it into a circus for the next ten hours.
My parents arrive and I give them both a big hug and then put them to work setting out the plates and cups. My dad gets the keg tapped and starts pouring out the cups of foam off the top.
I get my charcoal chimney started and we put out all of the snacks and food and drinks. I’ve made too much food. It’s apparent when its all laid out in front of me. Joseph says “Babe you’ve made way too much food” and I say “I know” while grinning and knowing that even though I have made tons of food I will still call in a pick up order from Hail Mary Pizza when the party starts to get real late and rowdy.
You can’t have a party without a little pizza.
I never really make a big deal about my birthday. I’m usually working and I don't mind it. We just have a drink or two after the show and go on with business as usual and that’s enough to feel good about another trip around the sun. But this year I have off and I thought we could have a big ass house party for all of our friends. Why not right?
I am so ready to let loose, eat and drink too much. It’s been a busy time. I spent all of March on tour and it was a hard one. They always are, so many cities, great crowds and lots of driving. It was a big success and although it was pretty grueling, i’m really proud of our work. I’m almost recovered from it and this party will help before I have to strap in for our 2020 Europe tour in two weeks.
You can’t have a party without something to celebrate.
I’m looking forward to seeing everyone, people I haven't seen in years and people I see all the time. I’m looking forward to catching up with them, hearing all about their new gigs and meeting their new boyfriends, finding out about what vacations they are planning and recent plays they have seen, as I fix them drinks and introduce them around. I can’t wait to see the looks on their faces when I make them take jello shots. I love all of these people and I can’t wait to squeeze them as they walk through my front door.
You can’t have a party without people.
The doorbell rings and I am back on earth. It’s Saturday April 18th 2020 and I am alone in my bedroom in New York, there’s 3 inches of freshly fallen snow melting into my daffodils, and I am alive. My two year old nephew takes a break from watching the Wizard of Oz to sing happy birthday to me over FaceTime. He does a very good job. It turns out you can have a party after all.
Featured on the Our Plague Year Podcast