Eric got a little depressed when we were out shopping for her gift. "I wish you would have been able to have a bridal shower," he said when I pressed him. As it happened, there was simply no way it could have happened; both of our families were hours away, and the few friends that had not moved away in the months before the wedding were all wrapped up with school - as was I, for that matter. I didn't even get my own bachelorette party, though I think that I much preferred what I did end up having. Since Eric and I shared so many friends, we decided to have a huge group pre-wedding/good-bye party two nights before the ceremony. It was one of the happiest nights of both of our lives, seeing all of our closest friends together again.

Bridal shower? I figure I didn't really need one, anyway. It's certainly not something that haunts me. I prefer being a part of the well-wishers than the object of celebration. The anticipation of seeing Amy's glowing face, surrounded by those who love her, is foremost in my mind at the moment. I can hardly wait for Saturday.

One year, though I don't remember it, I insisted on taking ten of my closest friends to see Annie in the theater. I was going through a phase, apparently, and one that involved a full costume and frequent impromptu singing and dancing. Happily, at least for my mother, it did not involve a large, shaggy dog.

I had the obligatory slumber parties, as well during which I myself was relegated to the floor with most of the other girls and the friend with the dust allergy was given my bed. It wasn't long after that, if I remember correctly, that I decided that I desperately needed a second bed in my room. It was also at one of these slumber parties that a very young Amy gifted me with a Strawberry Shortcake Lime Chiffon doll, and then snuck it back into her own bags the next morning, to hide under her bed until her mother found it. (For some reason, my husband finds this story almost as hysterical as the one in which Amy "broke up" with me in the second grade, saying, "I love horses, and you don't love horses, so we can't be friends.")

The party that I remember the most was one that I hosted in high school. It was one of those pre-packaged "Murder Mystery" parties, set in the 1920's, and was supposed to take place in a speak-easy. The mothers nixed the idea of fake alcohol, which disappointed us greatly, but otherwise the evening went pretty well...except for the fact that the boyfriend was obviously "too cool" for the whole event and alternated between falling asleep and blurting out facts that were meant to be kept secret, before finally passing out completely. By the end of the evening, at least half the guests were trying to pull me aside to ask me what on earth I saw in him.

I've never had a surprise party. I've only attended two, one of which I planned. As I mentioned, I think the planning was probably more fun than being surprised by one would be; the guest of honor at that particular party seemed so happy that my own happiness and satisfaction increased tenfold. Someday, perhaps, I'll be able to derive that same satisfaction from planning my children's birthday parties.