A few weekends ago I had a rare night out on the town by myself. I mean, I didn't go out to a bar all alone, but I went out to meet friends without Lance in tow (he was abroad frolicking in Germany…more on that later). First stop – a bachelorette party for my friend Rebecca. I haven't been to a bachelorette party in ages, but I was prepared for this one to be tame. Bec has lots of friends, and a mixed bag of them at that. You've got your church-going stay at home Mom's, and at the other end of the spectrum, there's me (read: complete OPPOSITE of church-going or stay-at-home Mom). I say all this as a lead-in to the gift-giving portion of the party. We were supposed to bring a lovely lingerie gift for Rebecca. Before I hit the mall that day, I knew who the audience was going to be when she opened these gifts. Did that stop me from heading straight towards the rack of crotchless body socks at Frederick's? Oh no. Did it stop me from purchasing the 'must-have' blingy body jewelry to accessorize with the crotchless body sock? Oh no. Did I want to run from the room when she opened my gift and all the Baptist's silently stared (in horror I'm sure)? Oh yes.
After surviving that embarrassment, I headed downtown to meet up with my sister and her friends for her birthday bash. For the past three years, she has picked the same bar to celebrate her birthday. I've dubbed it The DB Bar (where DB = douche bag). When did guys start wearing bedazzled shirts and jeans?? It's not right, nor is it attractive. Thankfully, I wasn't there to pick up a man. I was having a great time drinking and dancing, when BOOM, out of nowhere, my ego got killed. I was asked (for the one millionth time) if I was the older sister (aaugh! NO! I'm 3 years younger!!) and was accused of dancing like I hadn't been out in awhile (what does that even mean!? I wasn't doing the running man for pete's sake!). Whatever. It is what it is. Maybe I need to pay a visit to the hair salon for a color fix. Maybe I need to start dressing more like a hooker like the other girls out. Or maybe I just need to reinstate the robot. If leg-warmers and slouchy boots can make a comeback, so can the robot!
