The Fabulous Farewell!

A party run by the Marays, is never a subdued affair. A party run by the Marays always gives birth to colourful stories. A party run by the Marays is creative, crazy and complete with fabulous costumes.

For those of you who have experienced a Maray party, you’ll know exactly what I mean. For those who haven’t...well I can only try and help you visualise.

My parents decided many months ago that my farewell was not merely to be a party, but an event. As the time to my departure drew closer the local underground bar and disco room was booked, DJ was hired and food platters were painstakingly chosen. Most people would have stopped there. But oh no, not the Maray parents!

The party was christened with a U.S.A theme and from there Mumma Maray went wild! Trawling through hundreds of websites and two dollar shops to find the ULTIMATE party decorations, she plotted gleefully. Hanging Hollywood director’s boards, OSCAR statues, American flag banners, mini hot dog and hamburger lollies, goodbye and congratulations banners, American flag toothpicks, tablecloths and giant American dollar notes filled the room! The bartab? To be ticketed with fake American bills.

Then the games started coming out! Shoot the mini basketball, make an Ass of a particular past political leader (aka pin the tail on the donkey) and Dad’s wooden creation, throw the quoits onto the Texan bull’s horns, were all added to the night’s agenda.

Throw the quoits on the Texan Bull!

Now, it wouldn’t be a Maray party without a compulsory costume theme. I had ordered a Glee Cheerleader’s outfit two weeks in advance but it just didn’t make the cut. Dad was to be Uncle Sam, and Mum a cowgirl but what about me? Time was ticking and I just couldn’t find anything I loved until Mum came to me with a vision. Swathed in verdigris coloured fabric, a crown upon my head and a eternal flame in my hand...I was to be the Statue of Liberty!

Great idea in theory: Uncle Sam, Cowgirl, Statue of Liberty. Except our "express post", wasn’t so express. We were feverishly tracking our shipment which arrived in the dying hours of Friday afternoon.  

Come Saturday Dad was in the kitchen crafting éclair "hot dogs", macaron "hamburgers" and a succulent red velvet cake decorated as the American flag (accompanying Mum's pumpkin pie!).

Sweetly American

Night fell: Mum grabbed her pistol, Dad stuck on his beard and I lit my torch. 

We were ready.

Despite my entry (tripping on my gown and falling into the room) - the party was a hit!

 Everyone went to an effort with their costume, and American Indians, Superheros, Hot Dogs, Cheerleaders and Baseball players mingled throughout the night. I’m embarrassed to say we thew ourselves with country gusto into “Cotton-eyed Joe" not once... but three times. My parents both gave beautiful speeches and I did my best too (though emotions were running a little high at this point). After cutting the American flag cake and pumpkin pie, the night raged on.

As the last notes of “Party in the U.S.A” died down, I thought about all the wonderful people who had come to celebrate and wish me well as I prepare to leave the “Land Down-Under”. Whilst America is to be my new adventure and my new life I know I’ll always still call Australia home.