Things that are exhausting: hosting a party in a house that is not your own.
Tomorrow is Joel's birthday, but it's also a Monday, and that sucks. So to fix the problem, and also because Sunday = football, we celebrated today. I wanted to throw him a little football-watching party, but we don't have cable and our living space is tiny, so I borrowed our friends Steve and Amber's place, because they live just up the way and because they have several couches and a huge TV. And a deep fryer.
When you're hosting a party at your own house, all you have to do is make sure that the things you need, food-wise, are IN YOUR HOUSE!! You don't have to pack a cooler full of perishables (cheese and sour cream for the nachos, ice cream for the pie, ranch for the wings, etc.), chips, beverages, a giang bag of potatoes, et al, into your car and haul them somewhere, hoping that you haven't forgotten something basic, like the beer. You don't have to think of a clever way around not having a vegetable peeler, because you either have one in the second drawer down, or you aren't a peeler. You don't have to cut potatoes on a nasty glass cutting board that squeeks, because you'd have your own Le Cutty plastic one shaped like a yellow fish. Oh yes, and you don't have to learn how to use a deep-fryer, because you don't have one, because they make your house smell like ass.
All that being said, Joel had a happy birthday and I must have lost three pounds what with all the sweating over fryer and oven and cutting board, and there were wings and fries and yam-fries (is there a trick to cutting yams that I don't know about? Because it is hella hard) and nachos and chips and cookies and juice and beers and at the end, an apple pie with ice cream and caramel sauce. And I'm not the one with the smelly-house, for which I am eternally grateful (thanks, Stamber), and now I don't have to think of anything nice to do for Joel for a whole n'other year, and we have half a jar of caramel sauce in the fridge, and I am still in my mid-twenties (Joel has now entered his mid-late twenties, the geezer).
I need to go wash my face.