Tag Archives: married couples

being tacky and poor at dinner parties

Abruptly invited to one of our married couple friends new-house-dinner.
…or is it dinner for their new house?
well.. you have dinner to celebrate the new house that you have. There, nailed it.

I don’t know all the terms.

Basically I was told about the dinner about an hour before it started and as I’m hurriedly getting ready I realize…. what do I even wear to this?

I’ve been so out of sync lately with the married/engaged friends that I’m forgetting proper etiquette and what I normally do, say, wear, at such events.

As I’m putting on makeup in front of the mirror I’m realizing that it has been over three months since I got my eyebrows waxed. Not only that but I haven’t gotten my hair colored since April.

Now I know you may be confused, you might be thinking “doesn’t she blog about going out all the time? How could she not have known that she’s not put together?” Well honestly sometimes when I get ready to go out I’m already pregaming by that point, also I figure sometimes like oh it will be dark in that bar or club, and my brows don’t look that bad do they? Or I just put on so much makeup and style my hair decently and just figure that must make up for it all.

So anyways I’m inspecting my bangs which are long and noticing my split ends which are obvious, and I can’t find nice earrings. Like holy fuck didn’t I used to look nice and wear nice things? Why can’t I find the remnants of that, a.k.a. nice earrings?

It takes centuries ( I never ever ever exaggerate, ever) to find a nice little dangly pair and then I started in on the outfit.

I was strapping on a pair of low heels and a semi short skirt in front of my mirror, when I looked up and was like damn, how is this hooker going to be allowed into this dinner party?

Taking my hoochie mama outfit off and replacing with jeans and a nice top, and then I throw on the only sandals I have, the ones I’ve worn every single day this whole summer. Now I’ve just went too casual and possibly even a tad bohemian. Switch out the top for a tank top and a sweater and I swear I’m breaking a sweat knowing that my ride will be there any second.

My unemployment and lack of self care has led me to panic upon being invited to social engagements that are for civilized and responsible (and also employed) 20-something year olds.

Did I mention that I didn’t even bring anything to their house for dinner? Not a sliver of cheese to grate on the huge salad or bread to go along with the large platter of chicken or even cheap wine to get myself drunk off of.

I brought nothing to what is probably considered actually a housewarming party. I suppose that’s me not treating the hosts very warmly (see what I did there?) in fact I probably added a chill to the house (did it again, oh man killin this) upon my entrance.

In the car I’m wondering what I’m even going to do, pretend that I haven’t been a broke hot mess for months now? Explain that I’ve been buying beer every weekend but couldn’t bother to purchase myself a haircut?

Already I was dreading the conversations that you’re bound to have during the chit chat rounds of a dinner party. Me: “Oh so your marketing job is going well? That’s great! Yeah I almost got hired at this pizza place the other day…”

I mean really.

I made a plan that I would just tell them a good long list of all the places I’ve applied to, so as to allow them to pick one out of the bunch they would like to focus on, and then we can squeal about how great it would be if I worked there. For example: “That linen store off of Clayton Street? What great deals they have! We got our love seat cushions there. What kind of discount would they give you? It’s nice because it’s so close”…, etc.

P.S. I actually applied to David’s Bridal the other day to be a wedding consultant. Mostly just to say I did it and give myself a good laugh. The joke is really on me though, if they decide they actually want to hire me.

Prayed and prayed that the issue of boys wouldn’t cross anyone’s lips this evening. No one wants to admit that the douchey guys from the bars are actually dumping YOU and not the other way around. Better to run with the “I’m just so busy, you know, job hunting”.

Which is such bullshit I’d probably laugh if I ever actually said it. Job hunting is like a sprint. You are pumped and excited for maybe an hour, but soon after the second or third online questionnaire you want to find a peaceful grassy area to lay your sleepy head on, and then have soft wistful dreams where no one asks you to describe what makes you an ideal candidate for a position at Petco.

Really job hunting is like a three hour a day type of stint. When you go over five hours I would really stop filling out the applications online all together. Your answers on the assessments start to become more negative and pessimistic. You’ll end up clicking that button for “Strongly Agree” when it states: people are generally bad.

And that’s not what they want they want you to say.

Or wait, is it? Is this why I get no call backs? Christ.

But in all reality the dinner was fine. Good food, wine was provided, and football was entertaining as well as a excellent distraction.

One thing I will say that I did not enjoy about the evening was not that my ex was there, even though he is not my favorite, but how he and I were the only ones to sit on the couch for about 45 min.

I know right, what’s the big deal it’s a fucking couch. I guess I was perplexed because our friend sat between my ex and I on the couch, got up for food and then found a chair to sit on. Our other friends also sat in chairs around this couch.

Picture if you will a medium sized couch, with two people sitting at opposite ends, trying to pretend like it’s not weird that they are sitting at opposite ends of a medium sized couch.

Now I don’t think it was purposeful on our friends part or anything, but weird none the less.

Well anyways cheers to the next event hosted by a married couple, and lets just wish on all our fingers and toes that I have a job by then. These eyebrows ain’t gonna wax themselves.

how red solo cups symbolize youth

As I pick up the remaining forgotten red solo cups in the nooks and crannies of my parents house I’m so clearly reminded of the fact that I’m just way cooler than my married friends.
The married friends who didn’t come to my party.

Petty and trivial perhaps this may make me sound, my married friends did NOT come to my party and I’m rather irritated about it.

My friend M, she had originally told me over a week and a half ago that she had no plans and that she and her husband, P, would try to make it.

Three hours before the awesomeness that is my party began, M and P inform me that they have “previous arrangements” and with a little bit of prying I come to learn that those arrangements are in fact playing board games in their home.

Board games.

I assumed that they had invited several people over to play these board games and these several people would be devastated because they went and bought the latest version of scattegories and the earth will fall off its axis at the near mention of not getting to play their new game and forever our world will be lopsided because board games night was canceled.

Now upon learning M and P had not actually invited anyone over but were playing these very important board games with their roommates, whose role is to provide rent money to pay off M and P’s mortgage, I think I lost my mind temporarily. Luckily we had supplied our house with enough booze to heavily spike the punch bowl for three high school dances so only temporarily was my mind lost before it was all boozed up. A cute boy arrived on the scene soon after, hardly knowing a soul and so my attention became even further diverted from the married couple stabbing me in the back with board game tokens, and focused on flipping my hair seductively.

At four in the morning when I was crawling sleepily (tipsily?) into bed I was not thinking of my married friends and their beloved boardgames, but instead of how awesome it feels sometimes to not be attempting to be a grown up.

No mortgages or board game nights, no married people errands to do early in the morning. Just twenty four years old, talking to the cute boy at the party, and picking up red solo cups the next morning.