Partay

Lately I've taken to looking at people and saying to myself, 'that's someone's baby girl or boy.' Someone looks at them and sees an apple cheek, gap toothed kid even if they now have studs through their nose and a back piece. My mom tells a story about me during their time in Vegas; it's over a hundred degrees out and she is trying her darndest to get out of the hot sun with a basket of laundry and me trailing behind. I have turned pink with the heat and she is imploring me to keep up but I am poo-pooing along, picking dandelions. I think that's me in a nutshell, ambling along, obliviously picking pretty weeds.

Speaking of weed, I went to a party tonight. When I spend my Friday and Saturday nights indoors, I sometimes feel like I'm missing something, that there is this fun 'out there' I'm not having. Then I go out and can't wait to get back in again. I know part of it is the people. We just aren't into the same things. There was a girl at the party who was/is bat shit crazy. Certifiable, honest to god. She's single white female crazy. I'm not sure if she was drunk but I do know she was talking really, really fast and was either manic or high. She didn't arrive at the party that way so I'm trying to remember when she might have snuck away and ingested generous amounts of amphetamines. She is one of those people whose only purpose in talking with other people is to convey information about herself and her accomplishments. She's a neurology nurse but it takes her a while to get to the nurse part. She describes herself first a someone who works in neurosurgery. Then she went on and on about her running club and how much she loved running, which if I took a lot of mind altering stimulants, I'd probably be into as well. She insisted I put my number in her phone so she could text me and rather than risk doing combat with her, I entered my work phone and only part of my first name. Now I'm thinking I could have just gotten away with giving her phone back to her without putting my number in. She didn't check. She was just talking so fast and so intently and I was a little scared. I couldn't get in an argument or confrontation with this girl over my phone number. You can't win arguments with crazy people and even less so when they are intoxicated or high.

Single white female was just the icing on the 'I need to get the hell out of here' cake. In what felt like an after school special moment, I wandered out back during the party to find a group of people expertly making a joint out of a hollowed out cigarette thingy. The guy had a bag of weed and when he saw me said, 'oh, did you want to...?' and I, saucer eyed, said no thanks and went back inside. I'm almost halfway to 40 and that is the very first time I've ever seen weed at a party. When I wasn't nodding and trying to keep up with single white female, or just saying no to drugs, I was floating in and out of various conversations about hookups and hangovers. That is just not me. I want to be somewhere I actually have something to add to the conversation. It's not that I'm highbrow and want to go to parties where people discuss Iran's nuclear ambitions or Khadafi's latest rant. It was the highlight of my evening out last weekend having a giggly conversation about poop.

But alas these nights are never a waste as I could not wait to get home to blog about it. I may just start being the weird girl who shows up with a notebook at parties. Not only are the people there interesting but I have thoughts about fitting in and the Mutual of Omaha show that is the cutest guy there vs all of the single women vs eachother that I just can't recapture when I get home. I probably won't have many parties to write about if I start doing that...