Birthday Party

Late in the afternoon on Friday, the Contessa says that it is her birthday on the fifteenth and do I want to come to a party at her house this weekend for a small party. Am filled with guilt because haven't remembered and say firmly, I assumed you were going to have a party once you got back from Paris. Firmness makes sound less convincing rather then more. Becomes clear through further conversation that though the party will occur at the Contessa's house, Dave and I are expected to be caterers. Guilt and resentment (luckily) cancel each other out. We plan menu. The Contessa wants to have Vodka drinks. Try to convince her that we will feel much better if vodka not introduced to party. The Contessa says she know what I mean but it is her birthday and she wants vodka which she will purchase. All I have to worry about is the food. And will I please email her list of which cheeses I will be bringing. The Contessa, despite living in extremely small apartment invites many, many people, most of whom seem have also been instructed to chain smoke. Am irritated until first vodka drink consumed, after which become extremely accepting. Not to mention charming. Exhange witty banter with several strangers while wending way through apartment. When go to the bathroom, see that am also good looking and that booze has erased lines that Time had drawn. When emerge from bathroom, am cornered by Hilary (casting director from summer) for a long five minutes of terrifying speculation about film career (mine). Am forced to tell quite a few lies, including that haven't been going out for Parts but instead have been writing Script. Hilary asks, quite resonably, What is the script about? Script (hear self saying) is about brother and sister who solve mystery of murder in Peru. See Hilary's eyes glaze over, so add shocking bits about incest and ritual mutilation. This doesn't seem to impress either, so extricate self with excuse that need to check on cake. At end of evening wish the Contessa Bon Voyage. She says it won't be so bad, right? It might be fun, right? Assure her is Will be fun--she and the Vice-Boss might even become friends. Yes, she says, yes! She's much better since she got back from rehab. (Both of us obviously very drunk and not in right minds.) In bed, after spinning unpleasantly, Sleep fitfully. Am woken up at 7 a.m. by sound of door buzzer which causes to jump out of bed, heart pounding. Dave mutters that he signed us up for the monthly exterminator visit. Says so from under pillow. Tell exterminator that services not needed. Jenny ready to go outdoors. Pull on clothes from night before. Everything smells very very smoky. Tell self grimly that might as well have smoked own cigarette. Thought produces panicky moment when am worried that have. Day crisp and Bright. Vow never to have vodka again. While Jenny sniffs every tree, think about what it means to Celebrate and whether or not one ought to live one's life in a way that Celebration the night before causes regret the next day. Philosophical thoughts interrupted by pain behind Eyes.