Freaky Frantic Friday

I'm in the frantic stage of party preparations for our annual Halloween open house. This morning I made a few phone calls to order stuff for tomorrow: flowers and helium balloons from the florist, pulled pork, potato salad, and cole slaw from Hecky's. Then I went into the kitchen and started cooking. And I feel LIKE I'VE BEEN HERE ALL DAY. All I cooked was a huge pot of chili and a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies, for Pete's sake. But it's been HOURS. I feel like I've been stuck in my kitchen forever.

You know, a cake is actually a better investment of my time. All this dropping by teaspoons onto a baking sheet and baking only one sheet at a time--I'm lucky if I get a cookie for each minute spent cooking. And it's hands-on cooking. A cake can be in the oven for a while, and you get to do something else. You even get to leave the kitchen. But with cookies it's in and out, in and out, IN AND OUT. I hope is that my oven is enjoying this more than I am.

So I have about one hour to make my house appear semi-presentable, then take a shower, blow dry my hair, get dressed, and head downtown for dinner and the ballet with some friends and That Stud Muffin I Married.

Last night I got dressed up and drove downtown for a party at the Field Museum.

TOO MUCH GETTING DRESSED UP.

At least for tomorrow's party no one will expect me to look good. In fact, I could get up tomorrow morning and put on exactly what I'm wearing right now (Mom jeans, an ancient "Northern Exposure" t-shirt, no makeup, bare feet, and limp hair) and tell everyone I'm going out as a zombie. And I'd probably win the prize for Most Realistic Costume because I just caught a glimpse of myself, and I look like I snack on human brains.

--P.