Why I Throw Parties

I suppose a more appropriate title may be: 'Why Throw Parties?'

What makes a successful party? I know no way to measure it. I just know that, no matter how amazing the party, I always feel something lacking at the end. I always worry other people aren't truly enjoying themselves. I always worry I'm not truly enjoying myself.

Parties are stressful. The set up and clean up time is far longer than any good times the party may or may not produce. It's like one of those dreaded holidays- New Year's, St. Patrick's Day, Valentine's Day, one of those holidays where the pressure to have fun is almost overwhelming- except you yourself have created it and welcomed it into your own home with welcome arms. Why would you do that?

And yet, if you asked me, I would say I quite like throwing parties. Why? Why do this to myself? Is it the masochistic streak? Am I using these parties as a creative outlet (for, surely, my parties are often a work of art)?

I don't know.

They're a toss up. They might be crap, they might be the best thing ever. Maybe it's the thrill of being the possible architecht of so many good times. Maybe it's just showing off: look at my pretty home, taste my excellent food, and (in my case) check out my amazing costume.

Don't know.

On a slightly related note, I'm starting to have a slight Dan Rydell complex, and I don't know where that came from. Don't know from whence that came.