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A Jewel of an Evening

"Another first," my mom often says. And we all roll our eyes.

So last night was the first party at our place in London. A flat warming, if you will. I think it was a success ... though, of course, my inner Virgo was in high form for the first hour or so, questioning everythying. Are there enough people? Is everyone having an okay time? Did we get the right food? Oh no, people brought fizz, and we don't have proper champagne glasses. Well, we do have some fancy flutes, but you can't put them down, and they scared people away. Should we have planned better?

I'll chalk it up to a good starter party here at 53. And now the people I've been hanging out with know where we live. Which may or may not be a good thing.

We ended up throwing some awfully good soirees in New York (if I do say so myself), and here we have more than twice the space, and had little less than half the normal attendance, so there was a different energy. But I must say, it was fun. Lots of laughs, lots of conversations, lots of mingling, and two very entertaining rounds of Pretty Pretty Princess, which was a royal smash.

Nothing got broken. Nobody left in a huff ... although I did see a few pouty lower lips when certain princesses-to-be got the dreaded black ring (from PPP for those of you out of the know) All the food got eaten (oh no, we didn't have enough?!?). So yes, I so suppose we achieved success.

Off to womble around Notting Hill today with Matthew, who, as I predicted, just might be staying. As much as he's hating it here (Jude is not returning his calls), it seems the weather gods are conspiring against him and a nasty noreaster is brewing across the pond, which might make for trecherous travel. Pity. Heaven forbid he should have to stay an extra month day or so, settle in from the touristy stuff and make some mac and cheese.

Maybe I'll send him out to buy champagne glasses.