Part II: A Legend(ary) Party

"Whatcha working on?" my new friend, Julia asked as she strolled into my classroom. Buried beneath an avalanche of index cards, I gestured to an empty seat at the table while I finished writing. "The horns were three feet in length and, wearing stilts, Darkness stood an impressive ten feet tall," Julia read, flipping through my flurry of fun facts. We haven't known each other very long but apparently long enough for her to suddenly get suspicious. Her eyes narrowed. "What are you up to?"  She picked up another card that included an alternative scenario to the seduction scene where a stunned producer demanded a change. "You can't f*(! the princess," he'd explained. Julia laughed. "Well, you proved that one wrong."

And that's how Julia ended up being added to the reluctant roster of my "Valentine's Day is For Suckers" party. "Who throws a party on a Tuesday night when school is in session?" my husband asked ("Ever heard of Mardi Gras?" I grumbled). "You planned the party but it's not at your house?" Julia asked, confused. "Uh-huh. Plus Geri's making us Butter Beers!" That was the main selling point for my participants who weren't exactly exuberant about a watch party for a non-award-winning movie included on several "Worst" reviews. 

Again, my friends let me down.

"Don't bring ANYTHING," I stressed, already ashamed, embarrassed, and insecure about promoting this
ridiculous event. Why would ANYONE attend this poorly planned, cinematic disaster of an evening (besides Geri who was veritably a hostage in her own home)? But no...once again, my GUESTS graciously brought gourmet goodies...making me feel even more guilty for this colossal waste of their valuable time and resources. 

Julia, new to the group, had to walk a careful line as I kept a tally of what she added, appeal-wise, balanced by appalling social blunders. I may have tipped the scales a bit in one direction as my own position in the group is a bit unstable at the moment. I pounced, with delight, as Julia was unable to accurately name the villainous blonde in "Little House on the Prairie" and mistakenly called Nellie's signature ringlets, "droopy curly things." (Let us pause in supplicative prayer that our "Little House" fanatic, Marissa, doesn't bully us into a "Prairie"-themed Halloween this year.) "Check," I announced, with a flamboyant finger flourish that was further intended to distract everyone from my ridiculous dessert. Yeah. Try out a new recipe with ingredients that you aren't comfortable with. Great idea. 

FLASHBACK

"What's turbinado sugar?" I had asked my husband, storming through the sugars I knew in the baking aisle. White. Brown. Granulated. Confectioner's. Fake. He looked longingly at the shelves FULL of familiar box mixes that I rarely screwed up. Betty Crocker was a welcome guest in our home. Sighing, he turned his back on the sure thing to help me, not saying a word when we paid five Betty Crocker's worth for a box of tornado sugar of which I needed only 1/4 cup and would never use again. "Puff pastry?" he asked, as though I was removing an explosive from the freezer section. He disappeared later when I wrestled together my Blackberry Puff Pastry Tarts. I was in the middle of a culinary melt-down with Sydney on the phone when the timer went off. I needed a sampler. Imagine that beginning scene in "Taken" when the traffickers pulled Liam Neeson's daughter from under the bed. After a bit of a struggle, I had my sampler. He took a cautious bite as Syd and I held our breath. "It tastes like a Toaster Strudel," he said gently. Sydney and I cheered. Higher praise could not be bestowed. 

FLASHBACK FADES

My confidence plummeted the next day. The review had been given under duress. There was the one day sitting time. My window for optimal freshness was closing. Fortunately, the other snacks were so outrageously delicious and Geri's Butter Beer was so creamy and yummy, that my gourmet goof was overlooked. To make sure, I also pointed out how Julia didn't bring ANYTHING. Check.

I couldn't put it off anymore. It was time to watch the movie. My friends were never going to forgive me. 

I flavored the film with fun facts. I provided back-story. Behind-the-scenes secrets. Prop problems. "His armor was made from crushed bottle caps," I pointed out, before calling their attention to the paraffin wax icicles in the treasure cavern. "The unicorns were both male," I explained, going on to share the reverse-filming technique to capture the stallion's fall following being hit with the poison dark. "Watch his lips," I encouraged, "Honeythorn Gump's voice was later dubbed because his German accent was so heavy." I challenged my viewers to name all the floaty elements that lent a magical flair to the film. "Bubbles," said Allison, pointing. "Feathers," Katriel added. "Bullsh*t," Geri declared when I shared that one of the goblins was modeled after the likeness of Keith Richards." "You're thinking of the Pirates movie." The film was paused as my fun fact needed to be confirmed. Wow. Tough crowd.

I don't believe any one was permanently traumatized by my party. My movie now has a wider audience who can speak with confident authority about this timeless classic. "Legend" is visually captivating and, when accompanied by snacks and facts, is fun to watch.

My only problem now is that Marissa is threatening to host her own watch-party soon. How do I avoid a "Little House on the Prairie" marathon when she was such a good sport about watching my movie? There was only one thing to say when she asked if she should schedule her party. Gopher it.