Ugly Meditations

I may need an intervention before "ugly sweater day". I have found myself seeing my house through entirely different eyes recently. No longer as a slap-happy, easy-going, come-on-in daycare provider... but more like a grown up adult entertainer. Well, then again no. Obviously, I'm not an adult entertainer. I think I meant to say "hostess", although I think people would be entertained by the nasty pink horizontal blinds. They came with the house and I've not taken them down because they proved helpful at dinner when the blaring sun was setting in our eyes. I think guests may be entertained by the bannister I primed three years ago. That's all. Just primed. Additionally the "window treatment" in the bathroom may choose an inoppurtune time to fall under the weight of three solid years of settling dust.

Will my guests be so dazzled by the array of bad-ass sweaters and jello molds that they can overlook the lack of baseboards in my kitchen? My swelling melonime cupboards? The back door that sticks? Will I find the time to get to the store to stock up on enough cans of tuna to replace the corny couch legs?

After a summer of watching my brother evaporate, I vowed to entertain more often. I promised myself I would invite people in to share my space, my food, my life. I became more convinced than ever that it would be faulty to wait. Wrong to worry whether or not people would have a good time. Foolish to fret over whether there would be enough food and drink. Irrelevant to wonder whether I ought to be a different type of hostess than the person who I am.

So, come. Let's live our lives together then, and celebrate.
(But, I'm up now, and on my way to do something with that filthy bathroom curtain....)