Events

C-Day - Brought to you by James Wormald -

I can still remember the first moment Claire broke the news to me. The news that she was going travelling. I was selfishly disappointed. Of course I was, who wouldn’t be? Obviously I was also happy for her. This is something she wanted, and has wanted to do for a long time, and I naturally shared her excitement in fulfilling it. But it would be a lie to say I was not aware of more selfish feelings.


The next time I saw her a few days later and found out she’d be away, not for the general ‘travelling’ time you would expect 4-6 months… but 18 months! Don’t Worry she said I’ll definitely be back in the summer 2009 because I have to go to a wedding. 2009! I thought. We’ll all be driving flying cars and booking holidays to Mars by then!


I could hardly fathom just how long 18 months was. I soon set up (Whether it helped, or only served as a masochistic cause of more misery) an imaginary calendar from the point of departure, up until the expected point of return. Along with various statistics and time percentages.


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Around 4-6 weeks ago, it suddenly occurred to me, just how close C-Day was. The past 17 months had seemed like the first 10 years of Post-War Britain. I knew that the 60’s and 70’s era of colour and free-love was right around the corner. I made the decision that I could not let the historic occasion pass without some sort of grand celebration. They strap 80 tonnes of fireworks to the London Eye EVERY year, and that’s just to celebrate the change of date. This was SO much more important. A surprise party really seemed like the only way to show to Claire, just how much she is loved in this part of the world.


The last party I attempted to plan was one for my 23rd Birthday. Pretty much everyone I had ever at any point come into contact with was invited months in advance. To cut a long story… into a slightly shorter long story, I managed to drag out the people I lived with (They were home when I left, how could they refuse?) and 2 other people. Disaster. That night I retired from organising parties.


But this was different. This wasn’t just any old birthday party…. This was IMPORTANT. Besides, Claire pretty much becomes your FAVOURITE person the moment you meet her. Even with the curse of my planning, it was for a good and noble cause. Couldn’t fail right. RIGHT?


I shortlisted the names. Claire and I only have a few mutual friends, so to get a proper party going, I had to invite people I didn’t know. What research could be done into her other friends and how to get in contact? This is surely the exact thing Facebook was invented for (putting aside the obvious advantages to your work-a-day amateur stalker for a second). But who was a real friend, and who was that weird guy/girl at that party who found you through a mutual friend? It’s tough to tell.


I needed help.


It soon became apparent that this would be the least of my problems. This would be my first surprise party (either planned or in attendance), just how do you guarantee you can get the guest of honour to the ‘SURPRISE!’ stage without giving it away?


Claire had already suggested to me that we do something, the first weekend she was back. This was IT! This was my IN! She expected to meet me and Gazz Saturday night, but instead she would meet all of her friends. Brilliant.


This slightly shorter long story is already looking a strong enough length for a write-up. But am I going to wrap it up here? Of course I’m not. I only wish I could…


Not an un-short time later, Claire suggested we change our celebration to the Sunday as she was planning on being out with other friends the Saturday night. Disaster! The bar had been booked, the guests had RSVP’d! What to do!?


Quick as a rat in a tramp’s hat, I jumped on the Facebook and made an interception. I set out to contact the two girls with whom Claire was planning to spend Saturday. I would convince them the surprise party was a good idea, and get them to bring Claire to the right bar at the correct time. – Not too much a problem.


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1 week later, the news was not good. Neither of the girls Claire was expecting to go out with knew about it either, and both had made plans. Her decision to mark her return on Easter Weekend made throwing a surprise party a lot harder than it had to be.


With 1 week until C-Day, I’d still not managed to hold down Claire’s presence on the day I’d booked and advertised the party. Disaster was looming. It was looking like the curse would have it’s way after all. Fuck that I thought. It’s MY curse. It may mean I won’t ever be able to arrange a successful gathering for myself. But I can’t let my shortfalls effect Claire. She’s been away for 18 months godammit, and she deserves a bloody good knees up to come back to!


I called her again. If she was expecting to go out with friends whom I knew were not available, she would surely know that by now. And I would be able to secure her presence. I asked if she was still busy Saturday night, using the excuse of a celebration of my recent contract extension… The reply? She was busy.


Busy?


What can I do with that? I don’t know where, I don’t know who, I don’t know anything!


The whole thing was falling down around my ankles like a wet pair of pants. Curiously leaving me stood, cold, wet, and pantless, shivering with clasped hands covering what little remaining dignity left.


Luckily Claire is too lovely to simply pass up a celebration for something someone she knows apparently holds important (my contract extension) and managed to find a few spare hours in her rock star schedule.


This was enough for me to play with. The booking was changed to Friday night, reduced to less people, the guests were contacted and arranged again. I managed to even get in a days reconnaissance. Walking through the evening from the meet, to dinner, to stumbling out and wandering into the nearest ‘all right’ looking bar, straight into the open arms and cheering faces of enough people for her not to feel embarrassed about the attendance.


In the end, it worked surprisingly well. People came, and she didn’t have a CLUE! And what did I get for a months worth of planning, of stressful emailing and calling? A hug? A kiss maybe? Nope. I received a lovely swift, firm slap in the face.


Brilliant.