Today is my housekeeper's birthday. I wanted to have a small surprise get-together last night. "Wanted" is a curious word, really, because while I felt like it would be a good idea and a very well-received one, I'd been dreading it since the moment the idea came into my mind. I secretly hoped I would stay sick and not be able to do it. No luck.

Yesterday morning I went around town to invite people (since many/most don't have phones or email). As I talked it up, I realized how different my idea of the night was from theirs. They seemed to think that the only way to do a birthday gathering was to have a meal and stay for 3 hours.

Darn. I was thinking cake for one hour. Small-talk and parties in general have always been my down point. What am I going to say to a roomful of 40+yr-old Peruvian women for 3 hours?

As it turned out, the cake didn't rise. Now what? This party is already so far out of my comfort zone and probably theirs that to have it revolve around a bottle of soda seemed just too much to ask. I was on the verge of tears about something else already anyway.

So I canceled it. This was not all that easy since again it involved a town tour. As it turned out, I was only able to find one of the 9 women I had invited. I had 8 women to turn away from my house in the next hour. Oh dear.

Why did I plan this in the first place? I was trying to make myself do what I thought was the right thing, even though I didn't like it. There's some definite value in that pursuit. Where is the line between pushing yourself and pushing yourself too far?

PS- I wrote this post last night but was interrupted by the door bell. For the sake of the "whole story" I'm going to post it anyway and finish the story in another post.

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