how to host a mystery party, presented by sassy little punkin, angel bunny and l.q.t.
sigh.
my life can never be drama-free, despite the fact that i want no more drama than i can handle.
i feel like i'm up to my neck in undesirable and un-poetic intrigue, thanks to some strange post-party happenings that came to light yesterday.
it seems that three friends of mine experienced a non-drinking kind of high, though none was intentionally provided to them.
in fact, none was even unintentionally provided for them, because no one laced or spiked anything.
the problem is, as hostess and half-birthday diva, i feel the burden of responsibility. no one should have to experience a traumatic and unexpected high, and most especially not from anything i have at a party of mine! and i trust that my friends sincerely experienced something out of the ordinary. i trust the baker of the infamous 'banana bread' and know that they would not ever slice and put on a table for our guests any sort of 'enhanced' dessert item. and i was there when it was being made, and i know nothing 'funny' went in. and i ate some of the second loaf from the batch last night and was fine.
now, i've eaten some laced goodies in my life, and have always known that this was no ordinary bite of brownie or what have you. there's usually a yucky aftertaste, and the texture is rarely yummy and moist. but then again, i don't even know how to bake psychedelic goodies, so i'm just talking out my ass, quite possibly.
i woke up this morning from actual nightmares about this. it's weighing on my conscience like a ton of bricks. the bread baker was offended that it would even be suggested they would do such a thing. one of the unsuspecting eaters suggested that perhaps someone is lying to me. emails have been sent back and forth, some more eloquent than others. instant message conversations with the eaters and also folks being sounding boards for me have consumed just about the entirety of my one, free day off.
at one point i had to tell someone: "i'm sick of talking about this."
i keep telling myself: "this is not your fault, sassy!"
but i feel responsible. i am sad that it happened, and to folks who are not at all inclined to indulge in tainted treats. and with the blog culture being what it is, well, folks who weren't there are suggesting all sorts of possibilities, like that maybe someone put a tab of acid on someone, or that there were shrooms in the cake batter.
"no no no no no no no!" i screamed at my computer screen when i read these things.
i mean, for crying out loud, my parents were at this party! it was a room full of predominantly unemployed improvisers who at best will have one cocktail too many. any one who was a drug user kept their habits to themselves, and even kept their habits outside our apartment doors, because that just wasn't the kind of party it was. one of the first guests was an 18 month old kid. did he do it?
i just want everything to be okay. my first concern is with the health of the folks who got, for lack of a better word, sick. they're rattled, but okay. i am loyal to and trusting of all my friends, and believe that everyone is telling me the truth.
as i said to the lovely housemates last night, as we nibbled on left over goodies (including the scandalous banana bread), and as we relaxed in our tropical tiki hut living room: "i'm on nobody's side but my own."
well, over on this side i'm just sad that i can't explain what happened. sad that it happened at all. and sad that now i won't throw anymore parties, because i feel like i'm getting some sort of bad rap for all this, like my credibility is on trial.
is anyone a chef? are there any ingredients in regular old banana bread that could cause this reaction?
and how do i make this better? how do i solve the mystery of the half-birthday party?