For some of us single folks, we can have drastically different groups of friends and within each set we can take on very different roles. This can make separate nights bizarrely different from one another.
Last week I had two nights so drastically different from one another it’s comical.On Wednesday night my roommate and I hit the local bars for a bonding night and on Saturday night I attended my married friends barbeque.
Wednesday, when my roomie (yes, the stripper) and I sat down at the bar we had shots within the minute and before I could even pay for my beer there was a second provided to me. My roomie and I learned within the first few minutes there that she loves fireball and I love tequila and how throwing limes can become a fun game.
Saturday at the barbeque I made my best efforts not to open up the wine immediately. The game of pretending that you’re not impatiently waiting for that bottle to get uncorked is long and tiresome. Going through the motions of small talk and making kindly remarks about new pieces of furniture in the house, it’s almost like you have to earn that first glass of wine.
Back at the bar, older men sitting down a ways are buying my roommate more shots, while the bartender is pouring her more drinks, while I start to wonder where the hip hop music is because they advertise Wednesday nights as Hip Hop Night. Are they playing Jewel? This will not do, bring Drake out.
Back at the barbeque we are all talking about different car accidents we’ve recently been in. Different insurance policies cover different things, and your deductible sounds high! Who is your provider?
At the bar I have now become the DJ. I’m now playing all the hip hop music you could ever dream of because the bartender who was supposed to DJ is too busy hitting on and pouring drinks for my roommate, and has decided to let me do whatever I want because I’m her roommate. It’s all about who you know right?
Still on the subject of cars back at the home of the married folks, the wife is explaining to us how the husband got a red car, but red was not on her list of approved colors. The colors she would accept were black, white, grey, or blue. However the wife explained to us that the color is growing on her and we all did our best to compliment what a nice red it is.
The people at the bar are really responding to my song choices. Or maybe I’m just assuming they do since I’m having such a good time dropping it low while holding onto my bar stool for support. I’m trying to ask my roommate what my DJ name should be but she is too busy confessing to the girls sitting near us, that yes she works at a strip club.
We’ve begun eating back at the house and we all rant and rave about how the beef is cooked to perfection. Not too much pink, but just enough.Very juicy! Added just the right amount of sauce. The grilled veggies are also just delightful and it’s apparently a favorite side of theirs to make and there are not too many ingredients involved.
Cut to me now twerking on the bar.
The wife is now getting rather tipsy off her two glasses of wine and we’ve spent far too much time discussing how screwed up the school district is.
It is now nearing midnight back at the bar and I definitely have work in the morning. My roomie is just obliterated with free drinks while I have finally sobered up.
Several glasses deep back at the barbeque and it’s just getting good because my friend and I are doing some mild story telling for the entertainment of the married folks. Unfortunately the tipsy wife is beginning to look really sleepy.
At the bar I try to get my roommate to leave with me. We had said we’d just go out for an hour and now it’s two and a half hours later, but she doesn’t see my logic. She grabs the bartender and gives him a big hug while informing me that this is who she is getting a ride home with. I look at the bartender knowing that he is pretty proud/surprised that he managed to pull this off.
At the house I’m coming up with excuses to leave so wifey doesn’t pass out while were still there. As I’m departing, the married couple chats with us for a bit about getting a dog. What are the advantages of a big dog compared to a small one? Aren’t labs the best?
I had left the bar and was cozily sleeping at 2am when my roommate came home. When I heard her come in I thought about what a fun night we had bonding over drinks and dancing to 2Chainz, and that was when I heard the sure and not so subtle sounds of my roomie bonding with the bartender on our couch.
I mean how different are these nights? One ending in debate over Labradors and Retrievers and the other in debate over whether to do it on the counter next.
When you’re telling one party about the night you end up tweaking it just a tad. Telling my married friends on Saturday about going out with my roomie that wednesday, I mentioned nothing about shots, or DJing, or bartenders coming back to our place, but I did mention how I thought it was cool that the bar had Newcastle on tap.
Same deal when I came home from the barbeque. I can’t tell my wild stripper roommate that we sat around and talked about insurance policies, so I lead her to believe that we went through certainly more than two bottles of wine at this barbeque and that the conversations about car accidents were way more interesting.
I prefer to think of this not as lying but protecting others from truths they cant handle. You’re welcome?
Real talk: I don’t know how to keep this blog up with my lack of life. Luckily I had a bridal shower and two parties to attend all in one day, so there actually is something to share! Miracle.
We will start with the parties. Both of them were goodbye parties for either friends or coworkers and at both of them I came to realize that hey I don’t know these people.
And when you don’t know people in a group very well, not only will your beer not save you from forced small talk but it also won’t save you from the hardcore clinging to the two people that you do know.
At party Numero Uno, I assumed it would be wildly fun, but my two people became occupied and things got awkward quick.
Tried asking a coworkers boyfriend about the bar that he runs and when that went south I appealed to the vanity of a woman and complimented the girls hair next to me, which did go somewhere, but it left me without words to use because she had taken all of them and left me with nodding. Hey bro, lets go back to those one word answers about your bar that I’ll never take a step inside of.
Party Numero Duce..(?)… (spanish class was a long time ago), this party had the potential to have a lot of drunken people and a lot of laughs and it did amuse me on both of those counts for quite awhile.
One of my two people at this one was hammered. I mean like singing out loud in the middle of a bar, occasionally lying down on the table, and every so often telling someone FUCK YOU, with no rationale. Brilliant drunk.
Unfortunately, early in the night I had gotten very hung up on my crush being there and his not making eye contact with me. He was glued to his phone or the tv most of the night, and somewhere in that behavior I decided he loathed me.
At one point I was smushed between two different couples and almost got up to stand next to him, despite the general dislike I assumed he had for me, just to have someone to stand there with, and we could both be glued to our phones, at least together? Instead I decided to stay planted in between the couples, trying to be as small as a Chinese gymnast, and text whoever was willing.
It was when it got so bad that people in the group sitting around me had pointedly started a conversation that clearly did not need my input, is when I begged a friend to call me so I could have a reason to go outside and take this ever so important call, and this is when I realized I had lost our drunk friend.
I found him outside minutes later, standing on a curb, and looking out into the parking lot. I wanted nothing more then to plop down on that same curb and stare at whatever he was staring at, and not have to make one any more unsuccessful efforts to converse with others.
The funniest thing about yesterday was that I had thought that those two parties would be the best part of the day and that the bridal shower that afternoon would be that part of the day I’d be praying for to be over as quickly as possible.
The bridal shower, being at a church, and also being a bridal shower, I didn’t have my hopes set high, but was in fact a wonderful three hours.
Sitting at a table with my mother, aunt, mother of that aunt, and a cousins girlfriend, our dry wit and overall immaturity gave each of us away to inappropriate fits of laughter from beginning to end. Also the maid of honor who is my cousin, was running the show and quite hilariously I may add. She obviously had the upcoming Bachlorette party on her brain because she never ceased to make jokes about how she’d be hammered later and to quiet us down would say “ladies, ladies, off the tables. were in a church.”
The games she planned were even fun and our table even got bizarrely competitive and began cheating early on. When we weren’t cracking jokes, the maid of honor was acting as our own stand up comedian and had the whole room going.
I shake my head even now at how odd or maybe even stupid it was for me to be so sure that I would have gobs of fun at these random parties with random people, but yet not be as entertained with the amazing women of my own family!!
The women of my family are intelligent and fun loving and deeply sarcastic, from aunts to cousins to grandmothers, and I don’t know how I ever came to doubt having a good time at this shower.
I guess at some point in your life you need to take a step back from the bars (hooold on what is she talking about) and the strangers (omg is she saying this) and look at who has been around your whole life, and who is ready to jump up and be your friend when you’re own are scarce.
Shit just got deep. Hope everyone enjoyed the Grammys!
I need a lover, like yesterday.
Not because I want one, because I need one. Because basically I see some reeeaaaalllllyyy stupid things coming up in my future, and somehow a boyfriend will stop all that.
Oh and sure, love and all. If necessary.
So anyways here are my 4 REASONS:
Reason #1 On Friday morning I learned that Silverfox has a girlfriend.
For those of you not familiar with Silverfox, he is an older guy I was incoherently obsessed with for over a year. We had finally started talking around the time I was moving back here, and on our first date he ended it, and I cried while walking home and then cried in my parents driveway and then cried at a bar. I would like to take this moment to shout out to my friends; thank you for still going out in public with me.
How Having A Boyfriend Will Help – Hopefully distract me from wondering if his girlfriend is funnier than me. I hope he laughs half halfheartedly at her jokes but at the same time I don’t want him to suffer, so I hope she’s hilarious? I’m thinking daily now about the possibility of finding out that he’s engaged or something in a couple months time. When I think about that, then I wish ugliness and a terrible sense of humor upon her.
Reason #2 On Saturday morning I learned that my Ex is moving in with my close friends
After months of avoiding my Ex so I would not be given opportunity to drunkenly hit on him, profess my love to him, or God forbid wanting to spend more time with him, I’m now getting him paid back to me in full. I would like a refund, and I think this financial analogy is confusing me.
How Having A Boyfriend Will Help – My Ex and I will no longer be two people in our group of friends that are always the single ones, and our chemistry and similar sense of humor will no longer mean jack squat to me. My boyfriend will be the whip cream on my apple pie and I’ll eat it right in front of my ex. I’m not sure whether I’m confused again with my analogy, or just disgusted, but regardless I want to win goddamnit!
Reason #3 The guy I have a crush on comes to nothing
The night after learning about Silverfox’s gf, our friends had a big club night for a friends birthday.I hoped and prayed and wished on stars that my crush would be there. I didn’t even care if he came and ignored me the whole time, at least I could torment myself with questions like “Is he in a bad mood?” or “Am I not a good enough dancer?” or tell myself things like “He’s tired” or “I heard he had a cold last week”. All these thoughts I would take over the ones currently residing in my head, in which I picture Silverfox and some delicate beauty with “She said YES!” as the caption. Lord please, let her not be blonde.
How Having A Boyfriend Will Help – I will no longer anxiously look around for when my crush arrives because I’ll be looking at my boyfriend who I came with. I will no longer have to pretend to be completely nonchalant upon hearing that my crush isn’t coming out. I also will hopefully not drunkenly ask where my crush is so my friends will not have to tell me for the sixth time that he’s at a different bar.
Reason #4 I really didn’t have a fourth reason, I just thought four sounded better than three. Three is so 2013.
Actually my #4 would be so I could tell one of my male coworkers that my boyfriend doesn’t let me talk to other men so you can stop liking all my Instagram photos, thanks.
I suppose these reasons are not typically the motives you see in wanting to procure a boyfriend. Normally you like the guy and you want to be like, dating him. In my situation I like all 3 guys: Silverfox, the Ex, and the crush, but the feelings are not returned by any, and my love only remains unhealthily everlasting. I need a boyfriend, to trick me into thinking that I no longer care about the 3 at all.
Would renting a boyfriend be expensive do you think? How much extra would I have to pay for feelings?
When receiving text messages at midnight with “Happy new Years!” I felt tempted to respond in the way I felt at the moment, in which case my text message response would look like this: “Yup.”
Now of course you can’t do that. You cant actually write yup.
It breaks all new years etiquette. It’s worse then ignoring the text message. In ignoring a text, you can blame your drunkenness and how you were so plastered you didn’t even have the ability to read a text, let alone write one out in return.
I would have just written a sweet and simple “Yup.” but that would incur the curiosity of every friend, and would have gotten me back text messages asking about the worst of possible scenarios. “Are you not drunk?” “Did you see someone from high school?” “What’s wrong?” or the more amusing “wzHatt Wringgiircll,566?” which could have made it all worth it, but I digress.
I’m sorry but this is just not my holiday and I’m tired of trying to make it be.
I know I know, you’d think New Years Eve would be my time to shine. “Doesn’t that blogger chick go out all the time? Isn’t she like always drunk?”
Yeah yeah I know, Bachlorette parties and New Years Eve, those SHOULD be my nights of reign and glory. Unfortunately it is because expectations are set so high for these nights, is perhaps why they fail.
I went out of my way this year to make this year not like last year. Last year where I woke up in a strange apartment with a Scottish guy, having ditched my coupled off friends and gotten plastered by 9:15pm. I don’t remember anywhere near midnight.
The year before had been no less delightful because my friends again were coupled off and not doing anything exciting so I went out with coworkers I don’t normally go out with, and stayed decidedly sober in attempts to escape the awkwardness after the ball dropped.
In my hopes to remember new years this year and be with people I knew, I was perfectly okay with dinner plans and a house party, which of course were canceled.
Myself, my friend and her boyfriend, and our friend and his spur of the moment date, all wound up on a party bus with fifteen strangers.
So much for an evening of familiarity.
I can see everyone’s shaking of their heads at me. Is she complaining about a party bus? Lets be clear,I’m stag on a bus of strangers, we are hitting clubs downtown that have lines that wrap around buildings that wrap around building that wrap around buildings.
Within twenty minutes being on the bus my friends spur of the moment date was already spilling her orange drink on me, and I couldn’t even rock a buzz yet.
Our first stop was at a club we would never get into even if we had all day and night to wait, so we went into a pizza place, and then somehow I’m following strangers to liquor stores to buy cheaper booze, to pour under tables.
When it is finally midnight we drive to a field that is the perfect place to watch the downtown fireworks. Midnight is announced and my friend and his spur of the moment date – lets call her Kathy how about – , who were in conversation with me seconds before, go in for their kiss and as I, being a bit surprised by the abruptness, stood there for several seconds too long.
After stepping back a few feet I looked at the progression and literally I kid you not a line had formed. On the sidewalk near our bus, practically single file, three and more couples were making out in such uniformity it was almost awesome.
Then some guy opened a champagne bottle and sprayed it at me.
Getting back on the bus it was then the shit show. Dear old Kathy had made out with my friend as well as another guy at midnight, such a lucky gal.
Her most recent kissing partner basically dry humped her until death in the back of that party bus. In many attempts to save her, she went back to him, until I’m almost sure he got her pregnant back there.
Awww they could name their baby New Years. Or 2014!
When getting off the bus our dear friend Kathy revealed that her little black dress had basically split all the way up to her bra. Her whole backside revealed changed all of our plans. I hailed a cab.
Her date, our friend, conveniently decided to stay out dancing with everyone, while my friend and her boyfriend, and myself got her into a cab and let her wish us Happy New Year every 2 minutes or just when there was a pause in conversation.
One thing I will say about the cab ride and ride back in my car, was that she was so plastered and it annoyed me, and also that it was sad.
She said once to me “I just didn’t want to remember tonight” and I so felt for her in that moment. Boobs falling out, platinum blonde bleached hair a mess, and a ripped dress, drunk and repeating the same sentence over and over.
It’s like looking at yourself.
Minus the boobs and blonde hair.
We pulled over for her to use a gas station restroom, which I had to guide her to, and I distinctly remember saying out loud to myself “I’m not drunk enough for this.”
Which is hilarious because my whole goal for this New Years was that I wanted to drink less so I could actually remember getting to midnight!
I suppose I learned that there is nothing I can do to make this holiday better. If i get too drunk I miss out on the whole night. If I don’t drink enough then I have to actually put up with the whole night and remember how much I wanted the night to end as well as secretly fear that the girl we brought with us is going to get gang raped in the back of the bus and I didn’t do enough to stop it so I’ll go to jail and probably spend my remaining new Years hoping for new bed springs.
Even when I make deliberate efforts to spend the new years with people that I know, I still wind up helping strange drunk girls find the bathroom to puke.
Acceptance is everything. I accept that this holiday sucks, so next year I deem that Dec 31st shall be terrible once more, and in my low expectations I pray that the evening may rise to slightly tolerable.
Ahem excuse me
Oh, right. YYAAAYYYYYY!!! Whooopppppeee!!! 2014!!!
In the ploy to distract myself from lack of men, I have decided to take up gardening.
Gardening, Laugh Out Loud. Absolutely not.
I have however been watching incredible amounts of television, making tubs of pasta each night, going to bed early, and leaning how to knit.
Yeah that last one was a lie also. Really guys, this is too easy.
My dry spell probably wouldn’t feel as extreme if there was someone else in my position to revel in the boredom. A friend, co-worker, neighbor, anyone that could share in the lack luster go around of each day, where attractive men seem scarce and the only texts you receive are from your sister, talking about the irregularity of her babies sleeping schedule.
Now I’m not trying to make my two very good friends – who I’ve actually allowed to read this blog – feel bad for the fact that they are dating really great guys. Both of my friends have liked these guys for a long time, and are at long last dating them! It’s crazy awesome and exciting!
Meanwhile however, I’m trying to develop attraction for the guy who wears an orange shirt to the gym every day and appears to have no use for any piece of equipment other then the treadmill.
It’s crazy what you’ll settle for. These are dangerous times.
You’ll flirt with a not so cute and even irritating guy at a bar in hopes to exchange numbers, so you can text back and forth the following evening, as you endure commercials and wait impatiently for New Girl to come back on.
Or you’ll scan the aisles at church looking for someone minimally attractive and in your age group, and maybe when the service ends you can walk slowly past him, so he will then become filled with passion for knowing all there is to know about you. He will talk with you all the way to the parking lot, where he will ask if he can see me again tomorrow and then….
I will stop now, because I fear that you’ll believe me to be delusional. Which I am! So you’re right on point, bravo.
You’ll be shocked to know that these small distractions and ridiculous fantasies actually provide a service! They give you alternatives to think about, that do not end in texting your ex. And in this, I am spared much self loathing.
Drinking while alone is a terrible idea, let me just tell you. In this period of time alcohol is not your friend unless you are out and needing liquid courage to talk to a scrumptious man. I have not drank by myself in several weeks because it’s honestly just asking for an embarrassing slurred phone call to Silverfox or a sad plea of attention in the direction of my ex.
There are signs, at least for me, that let myself know when I’m in one of these ruts where not only is there no boy that I’m dating (this is most of the time) but also no boy that I’m interested in (which is rare) and the signs are as follows.
1. Celebrity Obsessions. Oh yes indeed, never has the show Supernatural ever occurred such a devoted fan. Two hunks, who are joined by a third hunk in the fourth season, who all fight bad guys together and then share their feelings? Yes please.
2. TV Show Obsessions. The Voice is a show where singers compete, and it’s episodes air on Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday and are basically the highlight of my week. I race home from work to watch it, then I tweet about it, then I go online to read about it, then I do it all again the following day. Sick people, I’m sick.
3. Food Obsessions. So much thought is placed upon: When will I eat? Will I feel like eating that later on? Everything is dictated by cravings and all cravings have to be met. Gone are the days in which I ate something I didn’t feel like eating for the sake of getting a meal in, because now I have to be satisfied with each intake of food. I was almost late to work the other day, due to driving out to a further deli because I was in the mood for their specific type of bread.
4. Cleaning Obsessions. Beginning to realize that certain aspects of your room are more organized and that you’ve become very reliable about washing dishes.For awhile I was coming home everyday and cleaning the kitchen fairly automatically, but then it became very important suddenly. I stopped changing out of my work clothes before starting the cleaning process and wouldn’t even answer my phone when it rang until the cleaning was done. One night my brother and his friends had made a huge feast for themselves and my dad asked me not to clean it up because my brother needed to. I waited all but two minutes before cleaning it anyway.
There is still room to hope though, last night I went out with some friends and a boy came, a cute boy, who is a friend of my friends. He seems nice and I definitely felt shy around him and I sincerely hope this builds up to a large crush or even just a drunken flirtatious evening or two. Please oh please.
Well time for me to stop pining for male attention, these chocolate chip cookies aren’t going to bake themselves.