God! I've got to have some people over. We owe at least 10 dinners and I've put it off for almost a year. Once they get here, I'm okay, but what goes before kills me.

What can I serve? Everyone's a gourmet cook these days except me. They're so competitive! First it was quiche, then crepes, now homemade pasta as a first course. It makes me sick - with envy, I guess. Last time I was feeling down, so I left it all to Henrietta. Her fried chicken and mashed potatoes are especially good, but when Helene said, "How refreshing," I knew she meant, "How bourgeois." It was embarrassing.

I could make brisket with prunes and apricots and freeze it ahead of time, but it's not very partyish. And my salad never taste like anyone else's.

I'll write a list of the people - the Bakers, the Franks, the Kramers, the Freemans, the Raymonds, Marie Brown, the Silvers, the Taylors. Goodnight, that's 17 counting us. Only room for 12.

Two parties? Double trouble.

Maybe buffet. I'm not crazy about buffets. You usually get sluck with one partner for the whole evening. It would mean a casserole. I'm rotten at that. Lasagana would be gross. I'll look through Julia Child again. A pound of butter! A pint of cream! Nine different spices! Ich!

What will I serve for dessert? Maybe that ad for New York Cheesecake. Marie makes her own and everybody raves. Maybe a caterer. At $12 each! Too much. Frank is getting fed up with my excuses. Soon no one will invite us.

When shall I have it? Sept. 21? No, I'll give myself another week. Sept. 28. I'll call somebody right now and commit myself.

The line is busy?

Thank God!