Cougar Party

I think that "cougar" may be a term from the plains. I've spent more time on google than I'll ever admit to, looking for images that would fall under the heading of "cougar" and mostly came up with large, frightening looking animals who live in Africa. That's really not what I have in mind for my fortieth birthday party. If you are from Manitoba, you may be familiar with the other meaning of the word "cougar". Its the word I remember my brother-in-law using to describe certain ladies who were past their "prime" but still dressed, and presented themselves as though they were "all that". I tend to think of nylons with print, really high stillettoes, hair that's been teased way beyond the point of being amusing, tight skirts like the sort we were fond of in the eighties.... but that's only my limited perspective. Here's what I need from you. Tell me, via comments, what "cougar" means to you. Then come to my fortieth birthday party dressed in such a manner. I don't care how old you are, how young you are, whether you know me, or whether I know you. I just want a house full of women and I want it to be about me turning forty. I want people to come who have never come before. I want people who have come before to come again.

There are few rules or guidelines. Simply, bring something to share. Come in character. Introduce yourself at the door if I don't know you. (thats one of my favourite parts!)

Beyond those very few, very unimportant details, everyone knows that once you've entered the gates, the time begins to fly. Sometimes hems come up. Sometimes secrets slip out. Sometimes Dr Ruth shows up, uninvited. (ahem, ede). Sometimes the guests are blog readers. Sometimes they have no idea what a blog is. Tattoes can be revealed, curves may be uncovered. There is always, always great food. (that you bring, of course.) There is always heaps of hysterical laughter. There are always new relationships formed, fresh perspectives gleaned. People always go home too early for my taste, and I'd really like to see that change this year. Believe me, if I get tired, I'll see myself to bed, but there's no reason for anyone to be polite, or to think of their children and husbands at home. Isn't that what the rest of the year is for?

Grrrrrr.....

Can't wait until November the tenth.