The Party Line

My friends Bek and Chris are having a party in August, and to my horror, I've been invited. Partly I'm horrified that they would invite someone like me to a party. Why am I friends with people who would do something like that?

Besides their general awesomeness, of course.

Mostly, though, I'm horrified at the thought of going to to this party. There will be people I know there, and there will be people I don't know there. And honestly, both groups are equally terrifying to me. My social awkwardness does not discriminate.

But Chris is bugging me to accept their invitation. He's gone so far as to separately invite Precocious Daughter, and of course she wants to go, because she has a party personality. So that's just dirty pool.

This is my party personality.

The thing is, I have a very legitimate reason to skip this party. Loads of legitimate reasons, in fact. Cromulent reasons, even.

You want to hear them?

• I have an appointment to have my earlobes waxed that day; my lobe stylist is booked months in advance, and I cannot miss my spot.
• It's a religious holiday, for a religion I plan to start between now and August.
• The Farmer's Almanac emphatically states that short blue-eyed southpaws born under Aries should not make public appearances that day. You do not need to look this up.
• There's a feral cat adoptathon happening, and I've volunteered to be an ear-clipper.
• I'm testifying before a Senate hearing on Dork-American issues.
• Someone has to stay home that day and wait for the fish installer to show up.
• Nickelback wants me to play acoustic theremin on their next album, and that's our only rehearsal day before we hit the studio.
• I'm pretty sure I'll be under a gypsy drooling curse by then.
• It might rain frogs. That's a total non-starter. Gross.
• The Squirrel Mafia has put a hit out on me, and I hear it's going down on the same day.

I could go on.

I am fabulous at making lists.

Ball's in your court, ChrisS. You got anything to go up against a gypsy drooling curse, huh?