The Art of the Home Party

My mother-in-law remembers Tupperware parties fondly. Back then they were an acceptable way for housewives to get the hell out of the house, drink sickeningly sweet punch, eat pinwheel sandwiches, and gossip about their husband's many short comings. She bought so much of the stuff that her storage room in the basement is like some kind of Tupperware museum. I imagine a bevy of women crowded into a shag carpeted living room wearing lovely 70's style pantsuits with hair heavily sprayed with French Formula hairspray.

Home parties have definitely gone downhill since those glory days.

Home parties now require the attendee to have a huge disposable income. Tupperware is now for the rich and famous. Who else can afford a $40 burger press? This confuses me because I don't think the rich and famous want to own this stuff. I don't think Bill Gates has a Tupperware cupboard in his sprawling mansion. I can't see Oprah bringing in muffins for the crew in her new snack storage container. As a side note, I like to rig my own Rubbermaid storage cupboard so it comes raining down on my husband's head when he opens it. This is a real skill and takes time and patience and is always guaranteed to piss him off.

My sister is no longer asked to attend Tupperware parties after she made the comment that the pickle storage containers seemed a little ridiculous. She couldn't understand why anybody would buy a $20 container to store pickles in when the pickles came in their own handy container when you bought the damn things.

The company that frosts my pickle the most is Partylite. I've been roped into a couple of these parties and I'm always stunned at the way women ohh and ahh over candle holders priced in the hundreds. Haven't these women heard of the dollar store? Perfectly acceptable candle holders for all seasons and a bag of 50 votive candles for a buck can be found in the sacred isles of your local dollar store.

I suppose my hostility towards Partylite can be traced back to a surreal experience I had with my daughter's guidance counsellor. My daughter was experiencing some pretty serious bullying at her school and I made an appointment with the counsellor to discuss solutions. My daughter and I were sitting in the guidance office discussing the problem when she asked me if I would like to look at her Partylite catalogue. For a moment I was stunned. If I look will she help? If I don't look will she slip my daughter's file to the bottom of her pile of things to do? I decided to buy something in the hopes this sad excuse for a counsellor would get off her fat ass and help my daughter. I ended up buying a Christmas type candle thinger for about $60. My husband was furious and all these years later, when I put it out at Christmas, he STILL complains. Ended up that the Partylite pushing counsellor did jackshit and my daughter had to leave the school.

Now housewives can go to Passion Parties. That's exactly what I want to experience. Stuck in a room full of women I'm either related to or work with watching them buy vibrators and second-rate itchy lingerie. I'd never be able to look at any of them in the eye again. And what the hell does one serve at these parties? Pinwheel sandwiches just won't cut it. I say no thank you to the Passion Party. There are some things that should be kept private and away from the prying eyes of relatives or co-workers.

I'll buy Rubbermaid storage containers, dollar store candles, and my lingerie on my own thank you very much. I WILL make a plate of pinwheel sandwiches and eat them on my own though and think back to the glory days of Tupperware.

Trailer Park Trifle

*Warning, your trifle will not look like this!

Quick and easy trifle that won't win you any prizes at the local fair. You will need the following:

• Mini yellow jelly rolls. Buy about 4 packs of jelly rolls. They come in packages of 6. The local 7/11 carries these things 24/7. You can class this up by using the more exotic chocolate variety.
• About 4 packs of snack size yellow instant pudding cups. As mention above you can pick a flavour more daring.
• Large package of strawberries cut in slices.
• Jar of strawberry jam. Get the cheap kind that contains no real strawberries.
• Large tub of Cool Whip. I have to admit that I try to use homemade whip cream in this. Even I have my limits.
• Whatever liqueur you have on hand.
• Skor Bits or chocolate chips.

Once you have the ingredients you can assemble your masterpiece.

• Pick out a really pretty trifle bowl. It will help class up this dish.
• Cut the jelly rolls in order to make attractive pinwheels. You should be able to get about 5 per roll.
• Layer the bottom of your trifle bowl with the cut jelly rolls.
• Sprinkle about 2 teaspoons of liqueur on the rolls. Try not to resort to Creme de Menthe.
• Put a layer of pudding about an inch thick on top of the rolls.
• Now a layer of melted and slightly cooled strawberry jam.
• Now for the sliced strawberries. Remember to save some for following layers!
• About an inch thick layer of Cool Whip or whip cream.
• Start all over again and repeat until you are just below the lip of your trifle bowl.
• Sprinkle Skor Bits or chocolate chips on top.
• Chill for a couple of hours and serve to your delighted guests.

It is handy to know that you can pretty much buy all of the ingredients at 7/11 anytime you need a dessert in a hurry.

Here We Go!

Before I begin to rant about all the things that enrage me I should introduce myself and explain how I came to be the petty woman I am. I started off as a very happy homemaker. I voluntarily became a stay at home mom and I took pride in what I did. I cleaned, cooked, volunteered at my kid's school, baked treats for their school parties, and put on some pretty respectable birthday parties. When my son was about 3 I decided to go back to school. After about 6 years I finished my 2 degrees and started to work.

It was when I started university that I realized that the whole "you can have it all" thing was a big crock. It was impossible to do the things I once did and do well at school. Something had to give. So things slowly began to slip at home. Dinners from scratch were replaced by casseroles that started with Campbell's soup. Floors were washed when the kids started to stick to the linoleum. I stopped being embarrassed when my husband went to work with a wrinkled shirt because he knew where the damn iron was. Dust bunnies became enchanted creatures that inhabited our home. Stuffing things underneath the bed became a perfectly acceptable method of housecleaning.

When I had some free time in the evenings I would flip channels and I became addicted to cooking, home improvement, and make-over shows. I started to do a slow burn as I watched perfect women fix fabulous meals in fantastic homes while dressed in immaculate outfits. Something wasn't adding up. I started to look at the women I knew who had families. A good hunk of them were buying in to this stuff. They marched off to work every morning. They came home and made great meals. After the kids were put to bed they spent their evening cleaning. One of my friends was existing on about 2 hours of sleep a night as she struggled to present a flawless image to the world. I started to see a common thread. Women who felt they needed to live like this worshipped at the altar of Martha, Oprah, and Nigella.

I refuse to buy that crap. The women who are hosting these shows have huge bank accounts and a pack of minions to do their bidding. I had none of those things. I decided to just say NO and embrace my mediocrity. It actually cost me some friendships. Former friends didn't feel comfortable sitting next to me in my slightly rumpled outfits as I sipped boxed wine. Frankly, I don't miss them. My kids eat Kraft Dinner, drink Kool Aid, sleep on mismatched sheets, watch questionable movies and I think their turning out pretty good.

So there ya go. Now that the introductions are over I can begin to rant about all things that frost my pickle. The list is long and varied. I hope you enjoy.