invitations gone awry

Yours truly made a bit of a fool of herself the other morning.

I've decided, after surviving a rather emotionally tumultuous year and a half, to throw myself a big ol' birthday bash this year. I think I might even bake myself a cake. With icing. And possibly even candles. (Though probably not thirty-two of them.)

So I collected all of my NY friends' email addresses bright and early the other morning and sent out an invitation. I remembered to include all the requisite information. Date. Time. Location. Occasion. You know. All the basics.

It wasn't until I started getting responses that I realized my mistake. Apparently I'd invited everyone over at an ungodly hour of the morning, at least for most people after a Friday night.

Now for those of you who know me well, you'll also know that 8am might actually be preferable to 8pm for me, given my propensity for waking at the crack of dawn (this morning, for example, I was lugging a certain ex-boyfriend's extremely dusty and now-dysfunctional stereo down to the basement of my building well before seven o'clock). But for some reason I imagine an 8am party just wouldn't fly for most of my nearest and dearest.

Luckily for me, despite my embarrassment at this ever so itsy bitsy typo and the necessity for a correctional follow-up email, people either didn't seem to notice it, were too polite to mention it, or sent teasingly loving replies a la Michael's *returning the huge slab of bacon I just bought* or Chiung-Yin's suggestion that everyone come over early, spend the day, and cook me breakfast.

Thank god for good friends.