You know those in-home parties where a host provides wine and triscuits and then someone from Tuppergroove International presents an item, like a blue duck home accessory? All the guests are supposed to get excited about this duck-thing and buy one so the hostess can get her own blue duck for free. I went to one of those drink-and-buy events, it was a Cabi party at a friend's house.
Let me explain a Cabi party:
You drink wine and eat non-greazy finger foods while you whoop it up with your gal pals. Then all of a sudden, you are rudely interrupted by a bubbly woman attired in Cabi who rolls a closet full of clothes into the midst of your once-promising party. She then makes you shut up so she can tell you about the "Cabi philosophy." While she's blabbering, you drink more wine, and then you buy a bunch of clothes that your mom would love to see you wearing. I'm not saying these aren't nice clothes, they just aren't YOUR clothes, generally. They are classic and will go with just about everything.
The one and only time I ever attended one of these parties I was asked repeatedly to "Shhhh ..." by one of my neighbors who collects Lingonberry baskets. I was with my sister who cannot shut up for the life of her -- and I gladly follow her down a path of disengagement whenever we're together. So, negative experience at the Cabi party for moi.
Fast forward a couple years ...
I walk in the house and the phone rings. It's my girlfriend Mia and she says "Hey, you want to carpool on Friday?"
"What's going on Friday?"
"Oh, you know, that Cabi party at M's" (M's not her name, I just don't want Mia's chances of being invited to another Cabi party jeopardized.)
"M's having a party?" I ask.
Silence.
"Ohhhhh ... I'm so soooorry. Well, I wasn't really thinking of going anyway unless you were."
What's Mia doing giving me that sympathetic "I'm-so-sorry"? I don't want to go to that party anyway and most of my friends know that about me. Except, apparently, M. After reassuring Mia that my feelings are not hurt, I get off the phone. And that's when I notice I have a couple phone messages.
I hit the play button.
Another friend is asking if I'm going to the party.
I delete the message.
Now I'm wondering "Why didn't M invite me.?" C'mon, I'm good enough for laughs. I must drink too much wine, eat too many non-greazy finger foods ...
I listen to the next message. It's Mary calling from out of town. I realize that I have many friends whose names begin with "m."
"Tracy, I'm on Orcas right now so I won't be able to go to the Cabi party at M's. Would you please let her know when you see her there that I didn't have her phone number and so I couldn't call her myself. Thanks!"
Weird. Everyone I know is being invited -- or at least all friends whose names begin with "m."
So I call my other friend whose name begins with an "m" to find out if she's been invited. I have an "m" hypothesis based on evidentiary evidence.
"Hey Marin, you invited to the Cabi party this Friday?" I ask her.
"No, who's having a Cabi party?"
So I tell her and we have a good laugh, clearly this is not letter racism. I get off the phone.
One day before the event, (which I now refer to as a very snappy "M's Cabi Parhti!") I pick up the phone, because it was ringing, and it's M herself.
"Tracy, my daughter and your daughter want a sleep over tonight, which is fine by me because I'm having a Cabi party. Is that OK with you if she stays over at your house? I really don't want her to be bored here if she could just sleep over at a friend's house instead."
I am grinning ear to ear.
"Why no problem, we'd love to have her. By the way, Mary wanted you to know she can't make it tonight. She's on Orcas."
...
"I told her I'd let you know."
"Oh, thanks. Well, I've got to get ready, I'm sooooo busy with trying to get this house all together before tonight!"
Sure, you betcha.
Later that night Marin decided to throw an impromptu party over at her house with some other friends and Mia. I was invited and it was fun to laugh loudly with all the "m"s and other letters I call my dearest friends.
