-- I am the queen of suck

I suck at being a guest at a surprise party. I don't mean to, it's just that I always seem to be arriving just as the patron of honor is pulling up.

Yesterday I drove to NJ for a bridal shower and was running late. It's nearly impossible for me to properly gauge traffic delays on 95. It normally takes four hours but snarls of congestion (and associated bad traffic manners) crop up and threaten to activate my road rage gene; for some reason the traffic was more insane than usual. Maybe it was summer vacationers or maybe Neptune was in my 7th house of chaos but whatever it was, it screwed me. Even though I left at 8:30am and didn't leave the car once, I was still a half hour late when I got to town.

I didn't think much of it until I was almost there. Suddenly it dawned on me that there may have been a start time for a reason.

I called my dad (since the party was for his sis). "Is this supposed to be a surprise party?"

Yes, actually, it was. And my aunt was due to arrive any minute.

Enter plan B. Since I couldn't drive up to the house, how about I park at the elementary school behind their yard and sneak in through the back? That way I wouldn't ruin the party by waltzing in with a gift just as she was arriving. Brilliant!Woodmere School, Eatontown, NJ: where I went 3-6th grade.

The only thing was, I'd only been here once before and I forgot what the house looked like from behind. I found myself standing in the woods squinting at three similar houses. Was it the one with the woodpile? Or the deck? I squinted and strained for several minutes before suddenly realizing I'd captured the attention of each household.

Silhouettes formed in the windows of each of the three houses to stare uncomfortably at me, the agitated female (obviously not a schoolgirl) with wild wind-blown hair and a heavy bag pacing about in the woods, gesticulating wildly on a cell phone.

Ravaged by swarms of mosquitoes and dripping with sweat, I suddenly saw the scene unfold in my mind: cops would arrive and arrest my ass.

Yes, what a perfect way to make that discrete entry.

I didn't think the Target gift card would be acceptable as bail so I hightailed it back to the car and sat, annoyed, starving, itchy, and urgent for the next 45 minutes, waiting to hear if the coast was clear.

No one called. Through some kind of dark "Can you hear me now?" cell phone comedy, my dad couldn't reach me. Eventually, my bladder talked me into risking ruining the party and I headed over to the house, unsure and irritated at myself.Turns out my aunt was already there. So I didn't ruin the party. But it was another near miss for my scoresheet.

At least I arrived in time to see the "panty pantry" where gifts of new and exotic undies were passed around for all to see.

Comments were funny:

"Which way does this go?"

"This looks like a curtain tie-back!"

A note about the chocolate pasties. I don't think you need to make your "girls" any more enticing by adding chocolate (especially as most guys I know aren't chocoholics). They probably do alright by themselves!