How The Party Began…
Some people feel the rain. Others just get wet. – Bob Marley
That night in Venice…
I was at a party in Venice, California. It was one of those parties – you know – cool looking people, delicious food, trendy music – and maybe, just maybe the love of my life would be there too. He’d notice me, smile, walk over and say something so charming I’d fall for him and that would be that – the beginning of true love.
Instead, I was sitting on a couch with three other women, all thinking that very same thought. How did I know we were thinking that very same thought? Because that’s what you thought if you were at a party in Venice, or any other place, for that matter. It’s basically why we went to parties, or clubs or even concerts. We were interested in the actual event we were attending, of course, but we were also secretly hoping the Angel of Romance would be there too, looking out for us.
Love is what everyone wants. What everyone deserves, right? Right!
So, there we were, maybe thirty of us – twenty women and ten men – talking mostly to the friends we came with, just like in high school. I believe we basically see love with the same eyes we looked through when we were teenagers. And it doesn’t matter what decade you were a teenager. What does matter is how you felt about yourself as you experienced those impressionable, impactful, life-altering events that were the “firsts”– first kiss, first crush, first passion, first sex, first relationship, first heartbreak and first recovery. Because like it or not, that’s what you still carry with you.
And then some of us experience more “firsts” years later. That evening, I was on my own for the first time after a ten-year marriage. I had a four-year-old son. My ex and I had a civil marriage and, therefore, an equally civil divorce. He was already on his way to his next wife. Meanwhile, I was working as an actress and photographer in Los Angeles, co-raising our son, and looking for someone I could love and who could love us. And so, there I was, at this party in Venice.
On my second wine spritzer, I separated myself from the party goers and scanned the room. I observed intelligent, attractive women and men – late 20s to early 40s – in small groups, three to four people per pod. They were talking and moving to the rhythm of the music – but no one was acting on the real reason they were there.
If only someone like Dr. Ruth (Westheimer) or Oprah – either a love/sex therapist or a motivational celebrity, was here too, I thought. Either one would have the insight and courage to say out loud, “Hey there! I know why you’re at this party. You want to meet new people. You want to find that special someone who was made for you, who really appreciates you, and who even falls in love with you. That’s why you’re here, right?” And in my fantasy, I heard everyone at the party shout back, “Right!”
The other element that was missing from this very cool soirée was fun. We were too busy hiding how nervous and self-conscious we felt. But this was pretty much how I felt at most parties. Getting ready for the party was more fun than being at the party itself.
So, when I left, I vowed to throw a party that would be different. One that would include fun, laughter and play coupled with the empowering intentionality of Dr. Ruth and Oprah.
And that’s what I did.
Fast forward to the present. A few months ago, I was at my friend, Celeste’s, 40th birthday party. I sat beside her friend, Francine, who was complaining that it was impossible to “meet guys in LA,” especially since Covid. She had tried online dating and apps but found the experiences nerve-wracking and ultimately disappointing.
“Throw your own singles party,” I suggested.
She said she wouldn’t know where to begin. So, I told her about the ones I had thrown with some friends.
“Please throw another one,” she said. “I promise I’ll come.”
Then I said, “You know, I’ll do something better. I’ll write a book about it – a guidebook on how to do it – so you can throw one yourself.”
This is that book.
So, if you’re twenty-one and just out of college or thirty-two and ready to meet someone or forty-three and fresh out of a marriage or fifty-four and tired of being on your own or sixty-five and coming out of a gray divorce or seventy-six and a widow, The Party is for everyone who wants to find true love and have fun while doing it.
FYI, I’ve changed names to protect people’s privacy because everything I write about really happened.