By Paula Bernstein

It’s been a couple of weeks since I decided to host my first-ever dinner-party and already, I’m behind schedule.

All I have managed to do so far is set a date — Saturday, March 6. I don’t have a guest list and I certainly haven’t gotten around to planning a menu.

Granted, I have been soliciting advice about the menu from none other than Martha Stewart, author Giulia Melucci, and Porchetta chef Sara Jenkins. Not to mention my friends and family. It seems everyone has an opinion about what I should serve, but I still can’t decide.

The truth is that I can always come up with something to serve — even if I take Martha Stewart’s advice and order in. But the one thing I can’t do without is guests.

Aside from Giulia Melucci and her new beau, nobody has agreed to come.

Then again, I haven’t formally invited anyone. I made the mistake of e-mailing the date to a few folks asking if they might theoretically be available for the night of the 6th.

The response was lukewarm at best. People seemed downright disinterested. I thought friends would be vying for a spot at the table, not fabricating excuses.

“I’m a freelancer, so it’s hard to commit,” said my friend Ken.

“I’ve got co-op duty that night,” said Dori.

“Who is going to babysit?” asked Kathryn.

And now another friend just rescheduled her Chinese New Year’s party for the same night, so it’s inevitable that I’ll lose some potential guests to that.

“I feel dissed,” I told my husband Avo last night.

“It’s easy to diss someone in an e-mail invitation,” he said. “You’ve got to go the whole nine yards and send out snail mail invites. Maybe even hire a calligrapher. Then people know you’re serious about this.”

Not sure I’ll spring for a calligrapher, but he’s right about the handwritten invitations. In the age of evite, nothing gets my attention as quickly as an invitation sent via the good old U.S. mail.

“With a cocktail party, you just invite a bunch of people and see who shows up,” said Avo. “There are no RSVPs. A dinner party is much more problematic.”

I’m beginning to realize that. What if I make a dinner party and nobody comes? Our table only seats eight comfortably, so that’s only six people (plus me and Avo). But, at this rate, I’m not sure we can find six people who are free that night and would be willing to eat my food. I might invite some back-up guests, but then I fear everyone will say “yes” and we won’t have enough places at the table.

Just as I’m really working myself up about this conundrum, Avo throws out another idea.

“Why don’t you invite a last-minute mystery guest who changes the whole equation? And don’t tell me who it is. That will keep things interesting.”

What does he think this is? An Agatha Christie-themed dinner party? I have a feeling there will be enough drama without a “mystery guest.” Especially since at the moment all of the guests are a mystery to me!