A party isn’t a party until…

This last weekend, a friend here in Cincinnati threw her semi-annual t-girl get-together.  She invites people from around the country and around the world to spend a few days at her home, having fun: It’s like SCC without the seminars.

She and I live on opposite sides of the city, and despite the 30 minute drive, I decided not to get a nearby motel room, or take up valuable floor space at her place; I’d just commute each day.

That meant deciding what I’d be wearing each day and packing it.  And a party isn’t a party until I’ve forgotten something.  For instance, the first day, I forgot my contact lenses.  (My wife, who was coming later anyway, brought them.)   The second day, I think I remembered everything, but the third day, I left my boobs at home.  And the Mrs. wasn’t there to bail me out.

It wasn’t the first time I’d left something important at home.  The first time we went to one of these parties, we were living in Dayton and did opt for a motel room.  Well, we got halfway to Cincinnati before realizing I’d left my wigs at home.

When we went to Be-All, I forgot my contact lens solution at home.  And didn’t realize it until the end of the first night, when I took my contacts out.  The hotel gift shop was long since closed, and I learned an important lesson: tap water is not an acceptable storage medium for lens.

That’s why I hate to travel for dressing up.  I always forget something.  It’s so much easier to pick a city where there are friends, and places to go, and to stay close to home!

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