The Perfect Way to Ring In 2014

As I write this I'm sitting outside on my patio, soaking in the Southern California sunshine with a mimosa, trying to recover from last night's party. If there's a stereotype about how people are supposed to observe New Year's Day in LA this has got to be it (all I'm missing is a pool and a drug addiction).

And I really couldn't be happier. When I decided to invite some people over for a New Year's Eve "Spirited Potluck" (everyone was asked to bring an alcohol themed dish...bourbon balls, salad with champagne vinaigrette, I made pasta with vodka sauce and chicken with a white wine sauce, you get the idea)  I figured that most of my friends would have big plans on New Years or be out of town and that if I invited thirty of them ten might show up.

I was totally wrong. I ended up inviting 35 people and thirty showed up. But although I had a brief moment of concern when the last-minute "Yes"-RSVPs starting rolling in (do we have enough plates? Glasses? Chairs?) I am so glad so many were able to come. For me, their presence made my party everything I hoped it could be: the best party of the year.

That's not to say I haven't been to some great parties this year. My engagement party was probably the best party of my life (but that was such an "event" that I sort of rank it in its own stratosphere). Aside from that, it's not uncommon for Rod (my fiancé) to take me to parties that surround movie openings and or award ceremonies and I always really enjoy them but there is a tiny part of me that feels like I'm playing dress up. I play the part of the sophisticated fiancée of the movie director and I'm cognizant of the fact that for Rod, these are in fact "office parties." Fun, but not the place to let it all hang out. So, as I'm introduced to the movers and shakers of Hollywood I am always polite and I demure when Rod tells them of my accomplishments and I try to ask the right questions and compliment rather than fawn (by the way, what is the "right" thing to say when you shake Mick Jagger's hand. I'd love to know because I completely missed the boat on that one...I think I said "gah"). Anyway, those parties are a trip and like I said, they're fun...but my New Year's party? Not an office party.

My guests were all people who I don't need to charm, people who know all my weaknesses and flaws and love me anyway. These people are, in one way or another, family. I don't demure when I talk to them about my accomplishments because they know how hard I worked for them. They know the dues I paid. These are people whom I can serve good wine to in plastic cups and it won't be a problem at all! "It proves that we are in a pretension-free-zone," one friend proclaimed as I handed her a glass of Duckhorn Vinyards Merlot in a red party cup.

My friends appreciate that I can get all ghetto-fabulous like that.

And my son and his teenage friends had  a great time too, gathered around our fire pit in the backyard, making smores, catching up and laughing about things they'll certainly never share with me. It was pretty close to perfect. There are others who I wish could have come (people who live out of town or were vacationing out of town and whatnot), but in one way or another they'll be part of my 2014 too. I'll make sure of it.

When I first hit the New York Times list this last March...well, I can't tell you how many of these same friends jokingly asked something along the lines of "You won't forget us little people when you're rich and famous, will you?"

I'm still a far cry from being rich or famous but there's one thing I know. These people, the people who complimented my red cups and showed up with their homemade pecan-bourbon-pie (OMG, THANK YOU FOR THAT, SHOSHANNA, YOUR PIE CHANGED MY LIFE!) these people will never be "little people." In my book they will always be bigger than Mick Jagger.


PS: If there are typos/ errors in here, forgive me. I am, after all, still recovering from the party of the year.