Party Tricks. Or the Lack Thereof.

by Allison Pang

I'll be perfectly honest - I'm not much of a party goer.

Part of this is because I don't really drink. (Mostly for medical reasons.) Makes it a little hard to get into the scene sometimes.

Also, I'm really a bit of an introvert overall. Parties just aren't my thing.  (Or maybe I'm just going to the wrong sorts of parties. The last few were work related and...I just can't get into those at all.)

However, this picture is fairly apt. If I'm at your party and you have animals, then I become the god damned cat and dog whisperer.  I have a gravitational pull for the furry and the small like a small collapsing star.

Now, in my younger days (before all the funky back stuff), I could have probably entertained you with my odd double jointed jenga back and the sort of flexibility that allowed me to stand on two full sized yellow page books and still flat palm the floor when I bent over.  (Not too bad for someone who was not a gymnast.)

Or wiggle my ears so that my entire scalp moves back and forth.

Or fit my entire body through one 1/4 panel of a window. (Did that once when I got locked in a bathroom - the doorknob fell off the other side and I couldn't get out. Window was painted shut, but there was one pane out and I managed to get through that and onto the roof.)

And yes, I can still put my legs behind my head. (Back in the day I could walk on my hands at the same time...but that was probably like 20 years and 20 lbs ago? Yeah. >_<)

Alas, these days, if you're wandering around said party, you'll probably find me in the quietest, darkest corner alone with my crippled back. And the cat.

Party Shifter

by KAK  

Useless talent I have that is fun at parties...

Dudes, I'm a total shapeshifter.

Nope, wasn't caused by an arachnid run amok in chem lab or by a raucous night in the deep dark woods. My specialness isn't hereditary. There's no magical ring. No illumination of any celestial body is required. My useless party talent?

Jackass on Demand. 

No, no booze is required. I can shift in record time. Nanoseconds, really. Whatever insanity possessed the host or hostess to invite me to the fête will be rewarded with my glorious instantaneous transformation. It doesn't take much to transform. Glowing examples of my party prowess:

• Valet parking: Sorry, Speed-Racer, I don't have anything smaller than a $20. No tip for you. 
• Hostess gifts: Twin bottles of Twisted Titty Merlot? Shattered in the entryway as I tripped over a spec of dust. They did leave a darling Rorschach test on the back of Mrs. Drownwhenitrains, so we'll have a game to play should there be a lull. 
• Black-tie affair: Everyone knows stilettos shatter ceramic floor tiles. Why else would I have thought the husband had agreed to a kitchen redesign? 
• BBQ cookout: Little monsters will be encouraged to deposit gooey fingerprints on random passersby. Games of Tag are always better with evidence.
• Singles Soiree: I'm happy to teach every gal to belch the alphabet. It's much better than the gas blasting out the other end. 
• Wine tasting: A lady never spits. She swallows...and then she falls asleep at the table and drools.

I could go on, but I see you've already shredded my invite. It's quite all right.  I tend to leave before anyone tries to pin a tail on this donkey.

How about you, lovely reader? Do you have any reoccurring fête foibles?

Stupid People Tricks

Happy New Year! May 2012 bring health, happiness and the best life has to offer. This is the moon grandly setting at midnight in Santa Fe. It was eerily gorgeous, so I take that as a promising omen.

Because KAK, our Calendar Whore, is didactic about not doing the usual thing, our theme this week is all about Useless Talents that Are Fun at Parties. Not a resolution post in site on THIS blog.

Frankly, I'm delighted.

Otherwise I'd have to post about why I think resolutions, like charity, should be private and anonymous or they mean nothing. And I'm sure I've ranted about that before.

None of you wants to hear that again. You want to hear about my personal Stupid People Tricks.

Remember that bit? It was on, like, Late Night with David Letterman or some such. (Those shows tend to blur together for me.) People would come on the show and demonstrate something they could do. It was hilarious.

Yes, I thought about doing it.

Not to demonstrate that I can tie a cherry stem with my tongue, which I totally can - if the stem is long enough - and, if I've had a drink or two, I'm sure you could get me to show you. Especially if you buy me said drink. I'm cheap like that.

And it's not that I can lace my toes together like most people lace their fingers together at rest. Though that feeds into it. In fact, that's when I discovered people like my Stupid People Trick.

I was at a sorority rush workshop (now they call it "recruitment," which sounds so... sanitized to me). If you never did the sorority thing, then you don't know how long and excruciating the preparation for rush could be. Days long for days on end, a full week before classes started. Plus this was St. Louis in late August, so it was hot, hot, hot. I sat on the floor of the soror suite in my sundress and bare feet, listening to something, with my legs stretched out, crossed at the ankle and my toes laced together.

One of my sorority sisters noticed and was amazed. I told her how, back at home, my stereo cassette deck (dating myself) was about a leg's reach from my bed. I'd perfected the knack of kicking my leg out from under the covers, hitting the eject button with my toe, grabbing the cassette between my toes, flipping it over, closing the door and hitting play.

I tell you: laziness is absolutely the first mother of invention. Screw necessity.

She wanted to know if I could tie shoelaces with my toes. I'd never tried, but she offered her own sneakers for practice.

So, we sat there, listened to our workshop (really!) and I learned to tie shoelaces with my toes.

Yes, I can do this at your party. But it has to be before the drinks.

After that, I'm only good for cherry stems.