While I'm here, let me fill y'all in on the St [Somebody] School Centennial that Mr. J and I went to earlier this month. It was a giant dinner function at the [Riverfront] Hotel, and let me just say: Can we get some Junior Leaguers up in here please?
If you are throwing a giant dinner for a Catholic parish, particularly the Catholic parish with our city's largest summer picnic, what is the number one thing you must supply? Booze. This is not rocket science. That first bar right past the check-in table needs to be fully stocked with everything, and then add a couple extra cases to be on the safe side. There is no excuse for that bar to shut down while people are still getting their name tags. And then the next bar shut down too! They made everyone in line go get drinks from the bars in the ballroom. And this was the big ballroom - there were only two bars open during the dinner, and it had to be close to a thousand people in there. A thousand thirsty people - who were paying cash for their drinks.
And there's another thing. If you are charging $50 a head for a dinner -- no band, we are just talking facility rental and meal - you need to throw people a couple of drink tickets. I'm not saying you have to have an open bar: although Lord knows that is preferable, I understand that's not always economically feasible and plus there are liability issues. But come on, who doesn't feel happier at a party with a couple of drink tickets clutched in her hot little hand?
Then there was the food. It was all "stations" which is perfectly fine, but if you are going to make people run all over the damn ballroom for a full meal, you need to make sure that the stations are stocked. Nobody wants to stand in line for ten minutes only to discover that the prime rib is all gone and you've been waiting this whole time for turkey. And here's a tip: nobody in this crowd wanted the turkey. Refer back to paragraph 1 and consider your demographic.
Last but not least, if you have a program to put on, do a dry run to make sure your speakers can keep it in their assigned time frames, and start on time. When your little card says that the program will start at 7:30 and be over at 8:30, people tell the sitter they will be home around 10. When you start the program at closer to 8:00 and you're still rambling on up there at 9:36, people in the audience are texting each other things like "OMG GET THE HOOK." Not the note you meant to end on.
Oh, one more thing. Sing-alongs only work if everyone in the audience knew the song when they came in.
Sigh. With all of that, it was still a good night. The crowd was lots of fun, and I just felt like that crowd deserved better. You know St Somebody must have plenty of JL alums running their PTA. I really wish one of them had taken some time to whip the planning committee into shape.
Thursday, January 30, 2014
Julep: Not again.
I just got a phone call from Mr. J: his Judgy Grandma is planning a family gathering to celebrate his dad's (non-milestone) birthday at their country club, for dinner. We were given date and time -- a full five days before the man's actual birthday -- and told to attend. On one week's notice!
Judgy Grandma has never held a job, and her husband has been retired for eons. But some of us do work for a living. In fact, I had a business development cocktail function scheduled that evening: I was supposed to be mingling with my partners' clients and (the hope is) convincing them that I would do a great job of handling work we don't currently do for those clients.
It pisses me off that this woman is constantly arranging command performances. Never, not once, has she ever called to ask about our schedule before she plans something we must attend at the peril of incurring a whole round of We're Offended -- a favorite game among the Mr.-family womenfolk in which Judgy Grandma the Queen Bee, her daughters the Drama Queens, and their daughters Trashy BabyMama and Tits McGee get themselves all frothed up about how they aren't being paid enough attention. (Most recently, TBM got her knickers in a twist because Mr. J did not call her personally to extend an invitation to our daughter's baptism. Mind you, when he spoke to her mother TBM was on her way over there, and he asked that she be filled in. But that was not good enough. The whole branch of the family skipped the after-party to show how offended they were. What a shame.)
Have some respect! If I need to attend, check my availability before scheduling, or at least give me reasonable notice. Sometimes I have work things to do! Hell, some times I have fun things to do! -- and trust me, "fun things" does not extend to a family function with the extended Mr. clan. I'd a hundred times rather stand around drinking cocktails and talking business with strangers.
Judgy Grandma has never held a job, and her husband has been retired for eons. But some of us do work for a living. In fact, I had a business development cocktail function scheduled that evening: I was supposed to be mingling with my partners' clients and (the hope is) convincing them that I would do a great job of handling work we don't currently do for those clients.
It pisses me off that this woman is constantly arranging command performances. Never, not once, has she ever called to ask about our schedule before she plans something we must attend at the peril of incurring a whole round of We're Offended -- a favorite game among the Mr.-family womenfolk in which Judgy Grandma the Queen Bee, her daughters the Drama Queens, and their daughters Trashy BabyMama and Tits McGee get themselves all frothed up about how they aren't being paid enough attention. (Most recently, TBM got her knickers in a twist because Mr. J did not call her personally to extend an invitation to our daughter's baptism. Mind you, when he spoke to her mother TBM was on her way over there, and he asked that she be filled in. But that was not good enough. The whole branch of the family skipped the after-party to show how offended they were. What a shame.)
Have some respect! If I need to attend, check my availability before scheduling, or at least give me reasonable notice. Sometimes I have work things to do! Hell, some times I have fun things to do! -- and trust me, "fun things" does not extend to a family function with the extended Mr. clan. I'd a hundred times rather stand around drinking cocktails and talking business with strangers.
Thursday, January 16, 2014
It's a Social Contract: Deal With It: Dibbs
Oh, the BC. I'm dubbing it MW Munchausen Coalition. They wear their designer Kohl's outfits, perhaps with a breast cancer ribbon, carry their 31 bags, talk about their above-ground swimming pools, and consider themselves high-rollers. One of them had the temerity to tell me she considered a Master's Degree, but she couldn't give up Mary Kay.
Their latest trend is designer disabilities: Non-Verbal Learning Disability, Ocular-Motor Dysfunction, blah, blah. They come my office and cry for an hour because they fear their straight "A" student children can't read. I don't even need an evaluation for that. Also? There is cancer in this world. Shut it.
So, one of them is worried for my health and wants to sell me in-home vitamins, etc. Melaleuca. I took some. They're fine. Whatevs. I will not be "scheduling my in-home party." She cannot understand the domino effect that comes from said parties. Schedule one vitamin party and you wake up broke with Partylites and Ahni and Zoey scrapbooks all over the floor. It's sad, wrong, and not of the Lord. I will not.
She's farmischt. The coalition lives for this shit. Probably so they can talk about how I hate their kids.
Oh, well. More fodder.
Their latest trend is designer disabilities: Non-Verbal Learning Disability, Ocular-Motor Dysfunction, blah, blah. They come my office and cry for an hour because they fear their straight "A" student children can't read. I don't even need an evaluation for that. Also? There is cancer in this world. Shut it.
So, one of them is worried for my health and wants to sell me in-home vitamins, etc. Melaleuca. I took some. They're fine. Whatevs. I will not be "scheduling my in-home party." She cannot understand the domino effect that comes from said parties. Schedule one vitamin party and you wake up broke with Partylites and Ahni and Zoey scrapbooks all over the floor. It's sad, wrong, and not of the Lord. I will not.
She's farmischt. The coalition lives for this shit. Probably so they can talk about how I hate their kids.
Oh, well. More fodder.
Monday, January 13, 2014
40 Is the New 16?: Dibbs
Girls! Get me back on my diet; order up the Botox. What the hell is going on?!
I think I told you at the last classic about hearing from my friend who had gotten a divorce a few years ago. Just got off the phone with him again. Reminiscing about dancing with a "little person." I believe he spanked said little person. It was a decade and some bourbon ago.
Anyway, last week I got a message from another old friend. He was going to Lexington to stay with a friend. Did I want to meet up with him? Y'all know me--Prudy Prudewell--this friend has a wife who I do not know. So...I said, "That would be fun, but I'm in Louisville." He meant Louisville. He's getting a divorce, too. Blessedly, the plan fell through. He's nice as ever and a raging alcoholic who can't afford his divorce. Needs to work on how he looks on paper. Since then he likes every one of my fb posts, so you can see him if you want.
So, HCG. Botox. Latisse. I ain't the girl I was at 22.
I think I told you at the last classic about hearing from my friend who had gotten a divorce a few years ago. Just got off the phone with him again. Reminiscing about dancing with a "little person." I believe he spanked said little person. It was a decade and some bourbon ago.
Anyway, last week I got a message from another old friend. He was going to Lexington to stay with a friend. Did I want to meet up with him? Y'all know me--Prudy Prudewell--this friend has a wife who I do not know. So...I said, "That would be fun, but I'm in Louisville." He meant Louisville. He's getting a divorce, too. Blessedly, the plan fell through. He's nice as ever and a raging alcoholic who can't afford his divorce. Needs to work on how he looks on paper. Since then he likes every one of my fb posts, so you can see him if you want.
So, HCG. Botox. Latisse. I ain't the girl I was at 22.
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