Wednesday, April 20, 2011

You And Me Baby Ain’t Nothing But Mammals

(not my photo... it is likley that there was in fact, a bridal keg stand earlier in the evening)

A few things:

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!)

3. Where I’m going with this post: I am too old for house parties.

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.

Last weekend, after I got stood up... the second time... (Please note: I waited 2 freakin’ hours for this girl, who then cast me as the bee-ach when I asked if she wanted to hang out or just cancel. Real cool, but whateves) Vagina Girl invited me out to a house party to cheer me up.

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.


  1. Mr. BFG's best friend from high school had a party like that after their wedding. It was lame. At that point, I already had four kids and was looking down the barrel at 30 years old. Not for me. At all.

  2. I like to throw house parties. Of course, mine are classy. I call them cocktail parties. We dress smartly, play some swanky music on low in the background, and just chat. Of course, I do this because I have a few male friends who are cross dressers. And some of them do not feel comfortable to dress up in public. So their only opportunity to get all dolled up is when I have a party.

    Once, we did a cocktail party like those holiday cookie parties, where you bring a batch of cookies, and everyone gets to try all different kinds. Except instead of cookies, we all brought the ingredients for our favorite cocktail. We all got to try different mixed drinks and mingle. It was super fun!

    The last true house party I went to was in college. Where we weren't old enough. But those were fun, too, because it was full of marching band nerds. All my buddies. And I didn't drink back then so I was always DD.


Do I need to be liked? Absolutely not. I like to be liked. I enjoy being liked. I have to be liked. But it's not like this, compulsive, need, to be liked. Like my need to be praised. - Michael Scott, "The Office"

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