Darin And Diane Throw A Party

Darin had insomnia last night, not falling asleep until 4. Fernando called at 9 and asked us to breakfast. He and Nancy came over and Nancy asked me how much weight I've lost (she hasn't seen me since the start of the diet)--I keep wondering if the change is noticeable; I guess it is. We went to DuPar's on Ventura, and evidently the rest of Greater San Fernando Valley decided not to cook breakfast either and go there as well. We waited a long time. When we finally got breakfast, everyone had French toast or pancakes, along with eggs and bacon.

Well, not me: I had decaf coffee. If I had eaten breakfast, I would have gotten the small order of French toast and then eaten less all day.

After breakfast I went out to do last-minute errands for the party:

• get a giant "market" umbrella for over the grill, so Darin wouldn't be drenched standing there;
• get some lanterns, so that he could see what he was doing in the dark;
• get some last minute food items, like bread and chips and dip;
• get lemon cake, as an alternate dessert and as a treat for Darin, who enjoys Miss Grace's Lemon Cake very, very much--after all, it is Valentine's Day.

I admit to a personal weakness: when I was at Gelson's--an upscale supermarket that employs people to stand around specifically to help you find whatever item you need--a store employee wandered around with a basket filled with foil-covered chocolate hearts and asked me if I wanted one. I was weak; I said yes. It was very, very tasty.

When I came home, Darin had completely tidied up the house. I mean, completely--I was like, did the cleaning lady come? He completely exhausted himself hauling crap out of sight.

The rest of the afternoon was spent setting up said umbrella and then cooking the remaining items: I boiled Yukon Gold potatoes for mashed potatoes with shallots and garlic and made the cream mixture to mash them with. Darin readied the grill and then baked the peach pie (Mrs. Smith's Deep Dish Peach Pie--don't bother with the regular, which is awful: go for the gold).

In the middle of preparing everything, I said to Darin, "Hey look, it isn't raining."

"That's right," he said. "And it's getting lighter out too."

Whoo hoo. Our evening was saved.

Lots of people showed up, though not quite as many as we'd planned (and cooked) for--Paul, his wife Amy, her 9-year-old son Devin, Linda, Angie, James, and James's friend Karen. Devin got to be a bit out of sorts--I'd hate to be the only kid someplace--but the rest of us got on like a house on fire, and we didn't even talk about USC or Film the entire time.

When we did get to talking about scripts, Amy asked all of us what we were working on. She asked Angie first; Angie blushed and said she couldn't. So I came out with the one sentence log-line for her. And everyone looked at me like, Where did that come from? Amy asked me if I wouldn't want to try being an agent instead. I gave everyone else's logline too, and they were all amazed at how well (or at least, how tightly) I encapsulated their stories. Then I gave mine, which meandered all over the damn place. It's so much easier to see someone else's than your own.

Angie and Linda brought me a present from the Bath and Body Shop--Linda as a housewarming gift, Angie as a thank-you for helping her with her computer. Angie kept remarking on how she couldn't believe the willpower I was showing not eating all this delicious food.

I admit that during the course of dinner I had one green bean in the garlic dressing (yum) and a taste of the potatoes I made (which were too garlicky and oniony for my taste, but everyone seemed to like them). I didn't have any chicken or beef, both of which looked marvelous, dammit. Since the grill is so close to our front door, we are grilling a lot when I'm done with this damn diet, that's all I can say.

Afterwards Darin and I cleaned up fairly well--he put all the food away, I loaded the dishwasher and scrubbed the counters.

Now I have insomnia. Sigh.

Lies, Damn Lies, and Statistics

Went to the gym and did weights today.