The question makes me think of a talk show. But Daryl’s answer makes me think of a cocktail party. If the former, host — so I’m not in the hot seat. If the latter, guest! I like to blend in.
Host. It gives me a chance to bully people into liking me. Also, I can seem gracious when I take up an activity that I enjoy, like cooking, when I become unable to provide adequate conversation. Craps. I’m a terrible host.
I like being the guest. I kind of worry that that makes me the person who likes to receive more than give, but c’est la vie. I get too neurotic to enjoy a party of my own hosting. I’ve thrown dinner parties where I can’t even taste the food because I’ve flown over into hypercritical and I can’t even see what’s what anymore. That said, anyone want to come over for a cocktail party?
Host. I like to cook yummy things for other people, and I also I like having creative control over an event. Like under-salted food, the screwed up details of other people’s events can bug me so much that I can’t enjoy myself. I just sit there re-designing the event in my mind which I’m sure makes me a complete bore to be around.
By virtue of Danny, hosting. I’m a pretty good guest, though in a circumstance or two, I’ve been known to fall asleep in the middle of a story that I was telling. (Danny apoligized, then woke me up, took me home.) Hosting, is good for me. I make things pretty, Danny cooks. We have a great time. Once in the middle of one of our parties, I went upstairs to use the bathroom, passed the bed and thought, “That looks really good!” Took my clothes off and went to sleep. Hours later, someone noticed, “Where’s Rick?” Danny looked, found me.
Jesus Christ, folks. We’ve got a lot of hosts here and a paltry number of guests. What kind of party is this? Look, I’ll just be a guest, even things out.
I’ll come for cocktails if it doesn’t make you jittery, Mary, and I’m in the borough.
I’m gonna have to go with guest. I always feel terribly inadequate when left to provide for the entertainment and culinary needs of my peers.
My mother and all of her sisters have a strange host/guest relationship. I’m not entirely sure of the motivation (probably a combination of things) but whoever physically hosts a family gathering (at least six times a year) provides meat and does little else. The other four always assure that everything else is provided for, including cleaning up afterwards. I’m not entirely sure how this might be perceived in other situations, but family’s family.
Ultimately, the conscientious guest’s job is at least as difficult as that of the host. If the conversation lulls or things somehow fall apart, it is incumbent upon the guest to make pleasant conversation about the napkin rings or this unseasonable weather. That’s just common courtesy.
I wish I could say host, but it is definitely guest.
Host. That’s about the only time we get the house cleaned up real well.
The question makes me think of a talk show. But Daryl’s answer makes me think of a cocktail party. If the former, host — so I’m not in the hot seat. If the latter, guest! I like to blend in.
Host. People always burn the garlic and under-salt the soup.
I read that too fast and thought my only choice was being a ghost.
Host. It gives me a chance to bully people into liking me. Also, I can seem gracious when I take up an activity that I enjoy, like cooking, when I become unable to provide adequate conversation. Craps. I’m a terrible host.
Host! Host! Hostess with the mostest! The opportunity to indulge in my autocratic leanings under the guise of being nice.
Mike. Mike. Be my guest. The soup I made last night was perfect. Neither under- nor over-salted.
i am a great host…to the 17 tapeworms that live inside of me.
I like being the guest. I kind of worry that that makes me the person who likes to receive more than give, but c’est la vie. I get too neurotic to enjoy a party of my own hosting. I’ve thrown dinner parties where I can’t even taste the food because I’ve flown over into hypercritical and I can’t even see what’s what anymore. That said, anyone want to come over for a cocktail party?
Host. I like to cook yummy things for other people, and I also I like having creative control over an event. Like under-salted food, the screwed up details of other people’s events can bug me so much that I can’t enjoy myself. I just sit there re-designing the event in my mind which I’m sure makes me a complete bore to be around.
Mary, I’d love to come by for cocktails. I’m sure it would be fabulous if you are the host, and we’ll get you drunk enough where you won’t care.
That’s it – I’m clearly not drinking enough!
By virtue of Danny, hosting. I’m a pretty good guest, though in a circumstance or two, I’ve been known to fall asleep in the middle of a story that I was telling. (Danny apoligized, then woke me up, took me home.) Hosting, is good for me. I make things pretty, Danny cooks. We have a great time. Once in the middle of one of our parties, I went upstairs to use the bathroom, passed the bed and thought, “That looks really good!” Took my clothes off and went to sleep. Hours later, someone noticed, “Where’s Rick?” Danny looked, found me.
I cleaned up the next morning. Perfect!
Jesus Christ, folks. We’ve got a lot of hosts here and a paltry number of guests. What kind of party is this? Look, I’ll just be a guest, even things out.
I’ll come for cocktails if it doesn’t make you jittery, Mary, and I’m in the borough.
Yes.
And, re That said, anyone want to come over for a cocktail party?, also yes.
I think I’m a better guest than host.
I enjoy it when there is a degree of complicity between hosts and guests.
Host…wait…no…guest…ahhhhhh!
I’m gonna have to go with guest. I always feel terribly inadequate when left to provide for the entertainment and culinary needs of my peers.
My mother and all of her sisters have a strange host/guest relationship. I’m not entirely sure of the motivation (probably a combination of things) but whoever physically hosts a family gathering (at least six times a year) provides meat and does little else. The other four always assure that everything else is provided for, including cleaning up afterwards. I’m not entirely sure how this might be perceived in other situations, but family’s family.
Ultimately, the conscientious guest’s job is at least as difficult as that of the host. If the conversation lulls or things somehow fall apart, it is incumbent upon the guest to make pleasant conversation about the napkin rings or this unseasonable weather. That’s just common courtesy.
I’m not a good host because I need too much alone time. I think I’m a passable guest.
I always prefer being the guest. I’m a shitty host. Plus I like being in other people’s homes and looking at their stuff.