Dear Diary - the Smitten Kitten Blog

13th April, 09

When I was 17, I was invited to a surprise birthday party for my friend Angie.  The invite wrote “Please RSVP by calling Sarah. Let her know if you’re able to come to Angie’s party.  It’ll be a surprise!”.  Simple enough I thought.  I’ll call Sarah to let her know I’ll be able to make it.

Ring… Ring…
“Hello may I speak with Sarah please.”
“I’m sorry Sarah can’t come to the phone right now.  Can I take a message?”
“Yes it’s Amy calling.  Can you tell Sarah that I’ll be able to make it to Angie’s surprise birthday party next week?”
“Yeah sure.  I’ll pass the message along.”

Awesome.  Done and done.  A week later, the surprise party went off without a hitch.  We all hid behind couches and tables and when Angie walked in her front door, we cheerfully yelled “Surprise!”.  Angie looked amused.  She was happy to see all of us.  We opened presents, had birthday cake.  It was nice.

Later that evening Angie pulled me aside and said “I knew that there was going to be a surprise party today.”  “How??” I asked.  She replied, “The person you left the message with last week was me…”

And thus, from the tender age of 17, I have been petrified of surprise birthday parties.  So scared was I that I would ruin another person’s birthday, I never trusted myself to participate in, be a part of, let alone organize any kind of a surprise party… never EVER again.

Fast forward to 2009.  My BFF (gay husband #1) has been studying in Germany the past year and a half.  I haven’t seen him since our tearful goodbye over a year ago.  Lucky for me his school’s job placement has relocated him in NYC this semester.  3 weeks ago, on a brief layover in Toronto, he called to see if I could meet him at the airport.  What a pleasant surprise!  I hadn’t seen him in so long and was so excited that I jumped in the car with the cordless home phone still in my hand, drove like a mad woman in rush hour traffic to see him for a brief 20 minutes before his connecting flight.

During our super sonic catch session up at the airport, he thought it might be fun to throw a surprise get together with all of our friends.  Since I’m the only person he’s contacted and knows of his internship in NYC, he wanted me to throw a party (under the guise of another reason to have this party), and he would fly in from New York and surprise everyone.

Throw a surprise party?  Really?!?  You could imagine my horror.  Images of Angie’s birthday played slow motion in my head.  “The person you left the message with last week was me.. me… me…”  Like a bad flashback in an episode of Kung Fu The Legend Continues, “me… me… me…”.  I froze like a deer in headlights.  But I couldn’t say no to Devon, so I agreed it would be “fun”.

Forget about the party itself, I couldn’t even tell peeps I saw him at the airport.  Lying is a problem ‘cos I’m a bad liar.  I suck at poker, or talking my way out of speeding tickets, or trying to sneak firearms across the border.  It’s written all over my face when I even THINK about lying.  I might as well be wearing a scarlet “L” on my shirt.

So I decided the best thing to do is to send off the invitations and then fall off the face of the earth.  Gay husband #2 and #3 would call, I’d make excuses to not see them.  I’m busy busy with the show I’d say.  I’ll see you at the party.  Come to the party!  They’d ask “Hey have you heard from Devon?”  I’d say “err.. um… dunno a Devon.  Devon who?  Oh look my cat’s on fire, gotta go!” and hang up the phone.  Well O.K. I’m not that bad but it’s pretty close.

I picked Devon up from the airport Friday night.  Had a low key evening at a restaurant waaaaay across town (in case we run into anyone) and went back to our house and hid under blankets and sheets (in case anyone was looking through the windows).  Saturday night we went to the surprise party and walked into a roomful of unsuspecting guests.  It was fantastic!  No one suspected a thing!  There were tearful hellos and hugs. Followed by an evening of good food, chit chat and too much drinking.

Just dropped Devon off again at the airport this morning.  He had to fly back to NYC and go straight into work so it was a very quick visit.  Good thing though ‘cos I’m totally pooped.  Lying can be so exhausting!  But I feel great that I didn’t screw things up this time.   like an evil mastermind who’s plan of world domination executed perfectly (Woooom-haahaahaa!) I will never be haunted again by Angie’s ghost of birthdays past.

Categories: Random.
Tags: surprise birthday party.
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