1. I’ve been stood up for girl-dates twice in one week. Which basically sucks.
2. I’ve also been asked to dance twice, at the only 2 bars I’ve been to. Which hasn’t happened, erm, ever. (Flattering though!)
I suppose I’d never actually been to a “house party”. I guess when I thought of the term, it brought to mind situations where very few in the group were actually old enough to buy alcohol, thus bought lots of cheap canned beer and invited all of their under-age friends over to listen to music and drink crappy booze.
Things wrong with this scenario:
1. My friend is blog-named Vagina Girl. And she earned this tittle.
2. Vagina Girl and I have both been able to purchase alcohol for some time, thus should never have to find ourselves in a situation where there is canned beer and mixed drinks in slurpee cups.
3. Vagina Girl and I both wore hooded sweaters…. (erm… “hoodies”. Sorry. LT Fromage and mom have been trying to teach me the proper term for some time now. Hoodies. Not hooded sweaters. Anyway….) We were very under dressed because there was a girl there in, I kid you not, her Wedding Gown.
Apparently, The Bride had just come from, surprise!, her wedding. The groom was there too, along with some of the attendants. (Note: This was NOT a reception. It was, in fact, a mere house party) Want to know where they got married just hours before? A bar. Yes. So I guess going from the reception to a house party wasn’t too weird for them. It was weird for me though. I’m not sure I’ll ever forget the image of a done-up, brand new bride chugging a can of Bud Light in a koozy while we danced to favorites like “Ain’t Nothing But Mammals” (You know the song… “So let’s do it like they do on the discovery channel”) in someone’s crappy living room plastered with posters of varieties of Shots and sex positions.
Vagina Girl and I sat in folding chairs at the beer pong table in the kitchen, made that face, you know, the one that says “What the F#(K are we doing here?” and said our goodbys to the guests, including the now-quite-drunk-on-cheap-beer happy couple. We thought about watching a movie after we left, but as it was close to midnight, it was far past both of our bedtimes.
26 years old is less than 8 weeks away, no more house parties for me. I think I’ll stick to my knitting and Game Show Network from now on. Let’s admit though, that it makes for much better fodder than my latest Angry Birds high score.