Love, Hate

Everyone has had a love, hate relationship at some point in their lives. That person that gives them passion and drives them crazy at the same time. That you are inspired by and then later exhausted by. That, when it's all over you ask yourself, "Why on earth did I do that?"


It seems I have a love-hate relationship with hosting.


The stress of the preparing, the manic of the moment, the exhaustion of the clean-up. Why oh why do I do it? Or want to do it?


I've hosted some decent parties in my day. Themed, decorated, organized and grand (at least for our little cliques). Poker parties. Sushi making nights, with our own customized menu created by our guests. Halloween parties with themes, props, radio dramas, contests. Even my wedding party was the talk of the extended family for a long time. Sometimes I look back and feel they were worth it. Other times....

First step in planning a party or dinner is to assume the Mr. Hyde of organizers. To evolve into this prickly (to use someone else's word), focused, stressed woman that has no softness to her at all. And don't forget resentful. I assume all tasks, all responsibility, and quietly curse those oblivious to my overwhelming situation. Bearing a self-imposed cross out of spite.

Then of course there is the day of, where I have to be "on" the entire duration of the party. Sensitive to everyone's needs. Cursing myself if I didn't anticipate something. Struggling to make conversation - an unnatural sport for me. And watching for responses to determine if I was successful or not. Did anyone eat that weird dip? Did so-and-so like her gift? Did people leave early?

When the dust settles, drained, I return to clean up the mess. I am either one of two persons at this stage: 1) Resentful, disappointed and depressed or 2) elated, full of ego and proud. In the latter, my worth and effort are validated. In the former, I curse myself for creating an event that didn't need to exist in the first place. I dwell on the help I didn't get. I cringe at all the food I spent too much money on that will inevitably be thrown out. Then I watch the short-lived cleanness of the house melt away as if it never happened. As if no one cared I just busted my ass to put it in that state.

So...I like to think I have matured somewhat in this area. I've learned to let go of things I run out of time to do. I've learned to be less ambitious. And I'm less bitter about things, though still guilty of it. And for better or worse, I still tie myself strongly to the outcome. What host doesn't? What host doesn't feel good, or bad, at how their party went? At how many times someone asked for a recipe, or at how another Hors d'oeuvre was silently rejected?

New house, new family, new messes, new challenges. I do not have this figured out, darn it. Hard not to be discouraged, which is the state I'm in now. I guess it could be worse...