Translation: loads to do, not loads of time, need to shake my tail feathers and get things did. I have three recaps to write/edit (Two Jersey Shores and a Big Love, which I haven't watched yet so NO SPOILERS, PLEASE.) as well as make forty-seven million appointments for the family, laundry, make bread, cook 2 whole chickens, and of course, play an hour and a half of solitaire and ignore everything. I mean, get everything done in a timely order. At least I've already gotten my work out in? Gah.
BUT. GUYS. I have to tell you about an ABOMINABLE PARTY I got roped into attending (on a LIE. I was lied to, zomg!!) and it's just... Wow. I have a poll at the end because I want to know how you would deal with some of these things. I pride myself on my social manners. PRIDE. I have cotillion in my blood. My hemoglobin is the FANCIEST.
That's a southern thing, huh? Cotillion? Y'all up north didn't do that, did you? It was a finishing school/private school thing, right? Why are we talking about this?
OK. So my lovely friend Brainpool is usually who has the shindigs and hootenanies in our neighborhood, as they were the ones with the pool and the not caring about people coming over all the time attitude. I've met many people at their parties, don't always hit it off with them, but am polite in social situations, as you are. She kept telling me about this one couple, I'll call them Rock & Bird, that thinks the Mr. and I are great, and we all need to hang out, blah blah. I have NO IDEA who this couple is, but Brainpool insists we've met on many occasions. Um, okay?
So Rock & Bird had a party on Saturday and were gagging for me to come, like they had mentioned me specifically to Brainpool, emailed them a request for my presence, etc. Um, okay? The Mr. and Emily were camping this weekend, so it was going to be just me, and guys, I'm just not into parties where I've never been before, I'm not sure who people are, bah. I'm an old fogey. Also, I kinda have social issues. I would prefer to be home, in my hot tub, with a book and a glass of wine than forcing small talk amongst strangers.
(Don't get me wrong, I can totally be charming and "On" when I need to be, I just don't CHOOSE that for my entertainment, if you dig.)
I stomp and drag my feet and put on some party clothes and makeup and do my damn hair and grumble and drive and get there and make sure I'm in the right place and that my friends are already there (omg) and go in and find the host. She's this tall bird like woman, staggering about, tipsy already, and talking with a group of people. I wait for a break in the conversation and say, "Hi, I'm Brainpool's friend from the Halloween parties. I'm the Geisha." (I was told this was how she remembered me, from my elaborate costumes of the past few years.)
Blank stare.
"The, uh, the geisha? I'm Laura?"
"I'm sorry, I don't know what that means?"
I'm red faced and trying to maintain my cool, everyone around us is looking at us now. "I was the angel statue a year ago? Um... I'm Brainpool's friend. Thank you for the invitation."
"I'm sorry, I'm drawing a blank. But I'm glad Brainpool invited some of her friends."
And she turns back to the others.
OH MY GOD. I storm over to Brainpool and scream-whisper, "She has no idea who I am! I just made a complete ass of myself."
She looked like the cat that caught the lying canary and said, "Oops! I just wanted you to come!"
JESUS EFFING BEE HOLES. No. NO NO NO, that is not how you get someone to come to a party. I was pretty embarrassed and pretty mad and incredibly uncomfortable. Somehow I got into a conversation with Bird Woman Hostess and it turns out that I didn't care that I wasn't really invited, because HOLY MARY MOTHER OF BILL WHO IS A KID I GREW UP WITH, she is the most boring human on earth.
On the whole entire earth. All of it. Maybe even the most boring of all time, I wish I could build a time machine - not to defeat Hitler - but to interview every person EVER and see if indeed Bird Woman is the most boring person that ever lived. That's how I would use that invention. And then I would be vindicated. THEN I COULD REST. (Can we rest now, Buffy? CAN WE REST?!)
Turns out her husband collects minerals. Alrighty. They have curios all over with half-dollar sized nuggets on display. As someone that enjoys the things of the earth, I drifted over and glanced at some of the displays and got cornered by Bird, who proceeded to tell me how they get them. In excruciating (and repetitive) detail.
"We go to shows and there are tables and they have boxes. Not big boxes, but like the lids of boxes. And they're made of wood. The boxes. The boxes that aren't really boxes, but more like lids. You take one of these lid boxes, that are made of wood, and you go to tables where they have lots of these boxes that are really like lids and they're filled with minerals. And you take the ones you want and put them in your lid box and..."
OH MY GOD SHUT UP SHUT UP HOW DO YOU TURN IT OFF?! And she's shit-faced by now. I mean swaying on her feet blasted. And I take a step back, because I really think she's going to fall on me, but she just shambles closer, like some kind of pre-zombie brain eater, except she wants to eat my TIME AND PATIENCE, not my sweet, sweet brain meat. Oh, and she's also an "Interior Artist" because she paints faux finishes (hey-o, 1988 called, they'd like their new decorative ideas back) and she wants to tell me all about how long it took her to learn how to paint a faux brick patch on her wall (are you some horrible strip-mall Sbarro?) and all of the glazes, and all of the OH MY GOD I DON'T CARE.
I managed to escape the retelling of the materials that make up the faux marble on the cabinet fronts she's working on, and drift into the dining room which has a picture of The Narrows, a pretty well known hike in Zion National Park. I point it out to Brainpool and mention that it's where
dovil and I are going. Not that particular hike, but the park, and for newbies, I used to live there. I hiked Zion EVERY. WEEKEND. I know that place like the back of my hand.
So Bird drifts over and tells me that I'm wrong, because they bought that picture in the Grand Canyon and it's a place northwest of Freedonia, Arizona (omg, that is ZION NATIONAL PARK, YOU HALF-WIT, LOOK AT A MAP) and they paid some Indian, she thinks they were CHEROKEE (omfg) and they have this amazing red rock that's like sand, what's it called?
AND I AM BITING MY FIST OFF. My left hand is now slowly being digested in my guts, because I couldn't take it. 1) that is the NARROWS, that's a world famous picture, 2) Freedonia is south-west of Zion making the place you went...? And 3) those are NAVA-freaking-JO INDIANS, not Cherokee, and it's NAVAJO SANDSTONE. Which is why you think it's sandy. Because it is made of compressed SAND. And it's named after the Indians that live there. In the NAVAJO RESERVATION that is almost half of the damn state. Gah!!
She starts getting choked up, talking about how much the Cherokee love American Democracy, because so many of the rock formations are named after Presidents and I just excused myself and left. Are you kidding me with this!? Wow.
Horrible, horrible evening. I believe Emily Post is very clear on your need to politely extricate yourself from a social setting when you want to brain someone with a piece of their vacation memorabilia. But if you find yourself braining your hostess, for pity's sake, PINKIES OUT.
And last night I got a friend request on Facebook from her. I do NOT know how she found me, and she left me a message saying how great it was to meet me, blah blah blah.
[Poll #1669352]
Guys, I am still traumatized. TRAUMA. LOL, I like made up white people/First World problems. Wah, wah, my Birkin bag doesn't go with these Louboutins, whatever shall I do? Hahaha, I'm kidding. There's no such thing as a Birkin bag that doesn't match any of the Louboutins, that's crazy talk.
Side note, I took my teens to dinner on Friday night and my son held my chair for me, and the hostess stopped, clutched her chest, claimed it was the most adorable thing ever, and made the manager give us an appetizer for free. SEE? MANNERS ARE AWESOME. ;) (And seriously, my boy is pretty great.)
BUT. GUYS. I have to tell you about an ABOMINABLE PARTY I got roped into attending (on a LIE. I was lied to, zomg!!) and it's just... Wow. I have a poll at the end because I want to know how you would deal with some of these things. I pride myself on my social manners. PRIDE. I have cotillion in my blood. My hemoglobin is the FANCIEST.
That's a southern thing, huh? Cotillion? Y'all up north didn't do that, did you? It was a finishing school/private school thing, right? Why are we talking about this?
OK. So my lovely friend Brainpool is usually who has the shindigs and hootenanies in our neighborhood, as they were the ones with the pool and the not caring about people coming over all the time attitude. I've met many people at their parties, don't always hit it off with them, but am polite in social situations, as you are. She kept telling me about this one couple, I'll call them Rock & Bird, that thinks the Mr. and I are great, and we all need to hang out, blah blah. I have NO IDEA who this couple is, but Brainpool insists we've met on many occasions. Um, okay?
So Rock & Bird had a party on Saturday and were gagging for me to come, like they had mentioned me specifically to Brainpool, emailed them a request for my presence, etc. Um, okay? The Mr. and Emily were camping this weekend, so it was going to be just me, and guys, I'm just not into parties where I've never been before, I'm not sure who people are, bah. I'm an old fogey. Also, I kinda have social issues. I would prefer to be home, in my hot tub, with a book and a glass of wine than forcing small talk amongst strangers.
(Don't get me wrong, I can totally be charming and "On" when I need to be, I just don't CHOOSE that for my entertainment, if you dig.)
I stomp and drag my feet and put on some party clothes and makeup and do my damn hair and grumble and drive and get there and make sure I'm in the right place and that my friends are already there (omg) and go in and find the host. She's this tall bird like woman, staggering about, tipsy already, and talking with a group of people. I wait for a break in the conversation and say, "Hi, I'm Brainpool's friend from the Halloween parties. I'm the Geisha." (I was told this was how she remembered me, from my elaborate costumes of the past few years.)
Blank stare.
"The, uh, the geisha? I'm Laura?"
"I'm sorry, I don't know what that means?"
I'm red faced and trying to maintain my cool, everyone around us is looking at us now. "I was the angel statue a year ago? Um... I'm Brainpool's friend. Thank you for the invitation."
"I'm sorry, I'm drawing a blank. But I'm glad Brainpool invited some of her friends."
And she turns back to the others.
OH MY GOD. I storm over to Brainpool and scream-whisper, "She has no idea who I am! I just made a complete ass of myself."
She looked like the cat that caught the lying canary and said, "Oops! I just wanted you to come!"
JESUS EFFING BEE HOLES. No. NO NO NO, that is not how you get someone to come to a party. I was pretty embarrassed and pretty mad and incredibly uncomfortable. Somehow I got into a conversation with Bird Woman Hostess and it turns out that I didn't care that I wasn't really invited, because HOLY MARY MOTHER OF BILL WHO IS A KID I GREW UP WITH, she is the most boring human on earth.
On the whole entire earth. All of it. Maybe even the most boring of all time, I wish I could build a time machine - not to defeat Hitler - but to interview every person EVER and see if indeed Bird Woman is the most boring person that ever lived. That's how I would use that invention. And then I would be vindicated. THEN I COULD REST. (Can we rest now, Buffy? CAN WE REST?!)
Turns out her husband collects minerals. Alrighty. They have curios all over with half-dollar sized nuggets on display. As someone that enjoys the things of the earth, I drifted over and glanced at some of the displays and got cornered by Bird, who proceeded to tell me how they get them. In excruciating (and repetitive) detail.
"We go to shows and there are tables and they have boxes. Not big boxes, but like the lids of boxes. And they're made of wood. The boxes. The boxes that aren't really boxes, but more like lids. You take one of these lid boxes, that are made of wood, and you go to tables where they have lots of these boxes that are really like lids and they're filled with minerals. And you take the ones you want and put them in your lid box and..."
OH MY GOD SHUT UP SHUT UP HOW DO YOU TURN IT OFF?! And she's shit-faced by now. I mean swaying on her feet blasted. And I take a step back, because I really think she's going to fall on me, but she just shambles closer, like some kind of pre-zombie brain eater, except she wants to eat my TIME AND PATIENCE, not my sweet, sweet brain meat. Oh, and she's also an "Interior Artist" because she paints faux finishes (hey-o, 1988 called, they'd like their new decorative ideas back) and she wants to tell me all about how long it took her to learn how to paint a faux brick patch on her wall (are you some horrible strip-mall Sbarro?) and all of the glazes, and all of the OH MY GOD I DON'T CARE.
I managed to escape the retelling of the materials that make up the faux marble on the cabinet fronts she's working on, and drift into the dining room which has a picture of The Narrows, a pretty well known hike in Zion National Park. I point it out to Brainpool and mention that it's where
So Bird drifts over and tells me that I'm wrong, because they bought that picture in the Grand Canyon and it's a place northwest of Freedonia, Arizona (omg, that is ZION NATIONAL PARK, YOU HALF-WIT, LOOK AT A MAP) and they paid some Indian, she thinks they were CHEROKEE (omfg) and they have this amazing red rock that's like sand, what's it called?
AND I AM BITING MY FIST OFF. My left hand is now slowly being digested in my guts, because I couldn't take it. 1) that is the NARROWS, that's a world famous picture, 2) Freedonia is south-west of Zion making the place you went...? And 3) those are NAVA-freaking-JO INDIANS, not Cherokee, and it's NAVAJO SANDSTONE. Which is why you think it's sandy. Because it is made of compressed SAND. And it's named after the Indians that live there. In the NAVAJO RESERVATION that is almost half of the damn state. Gah!!
She starts getting choked up, talking about how much the Cherokee love American Democracy, because so many of the rock formations are named after Presidents and I just excused myself and left. Are you kidding me with this!? Wow.
Horrible, horrible evening. I believe Emily Post is very clear on your need to politely extricate yourself from a social setting when you want to brain someone with a piece of their vacation memorabilia. But if you find yourself braining your hostess, for pity's sake, PINKIES OUT.
And last night I got a friend request on Facebook from her. I do NOT know how she found me, and she left me a message saying how great it was to meet me, blah blah blah.
[Poll #1669352]
Guys, I am still traumatized. TRAUMA. LOL, I like made up white people/First World problems. Wah, wah, my Birkin bag doesn't go with these Louboutins, whatever shall I do? Hahaha, I'm kidding. There's no such thing as a Birkin bag that doesn't match any of the Louboutins, that's crazy talk.
Side note, I took my teens to dinner on Friday night and my son held my chair for me, and the hostess stopped, clutched her chest, claimed it was the most adorable thing ever, and made the manager give us an appetizer for free. SEE? MANNERS ARE AWESOME. ;) (And seriously, my boy is pretty great.)
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 06:10 pm (UTC)Brainpool owes you wine. Yes she does.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 06:11 pm (UTC)Not to mention at least a half-hearted apology.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 06:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 06:13 pm (UTC)HAHAHAHA, maybe not the best introduction, but hey, that's how I was told I was known! :)
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:Hail hail Stoney!!
Date: 2011-01-18 06:12 pm (UTC)Re: Hail hail Stoney!!
Date: 2011-01-18 06:13 pm (UTC)Re: Hail hail Stoney!!
From:Re: Hail hail Stoney!!
From:Re: Hail hail Stoney!!
From:no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 06:14 pm (UTC)Yes, manners are awesome. I like that restaurants now give prizes to boys that have some!
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 06:34 pm (UTC)Um, I think Brainpool and her husband like them. I REALLY DON'T GET IT. Then again, they're the kind that find the good in everyone, wussies. ;)
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 06:19 pm (UTC)But I have a thing about showing up at parties uninvited/not knowing the hosts. Which made me the worst friend ever to drag along to dorm parties in college. ;)
I would either ignore her friend request, or if I felt a bit evil, accept it and then post 'helpful' links of articles about the Narrows and the Navajo on her wall...
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 06:35 pm (UTC)Ahahaha, I love your suggestion re: links on her wall. DEVIOUS and DELIGHTFUL.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 06:37 pm (UTC)NICE - I WILL DO THAT, TOO. (I do like to point out to parents when they're children have lovely manners. I hate that it's becoming so RARE.)
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 06:28 pm (UTC)I BLAME YOUR FRIEND, NOT THIS BORING PERSON WITH FAUX-INTEREST IN FAUX-INDIANS. Don't friend her, you owe her nothing. It's fucking facebook, who cares? Your friend, however, needs to not lie again because she wants you to attend a party so there is a buffer friend available when boring friend inevitably becomes boring. What's great about girlfriends? We say things like, "OMG this person is so boring, please come to this party with me so we can mock her and leave after we steal some free alcohol."
I UNLIKE THIS SITUATION.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 06:39 pm (UTC)But the thing is, I think Brainpool likes this lady so... I don't know, it's all FUBAR. I don't have to like everyone my friends like, and vice versa.
I unlike the sitch, but I like you. And your FACE.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 06:30 pm (UTC):D
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 06:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 06:41 pm (UTC)Guess who was there when I showed up at 8:45 for an 8:00 invitation? That's right, nobody who knew me, and the reception was about as fucked as you can imagine. I actually left before any of my friends got there, as I had been (shall we say) actively encouraged to do so, being as how neither my friend who invited me nor the other friend whose wife was the most... active... in her encouragement that I decamp had mentioned the fact that I'd been invited and the group was unwilling to be convinced that I had any busness being there.
So, yeah, this is why I mostly throw parties rather than attend them.
Julia, you have been the random recipient of my one long comment of the week, I fear
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 06:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 06:47 pm (UTC)Good lord. If my choice is to sit around in my pajamas with my husband, a cat or four, and a time wasting game or get dressed and go out and find parking blah blah, uh...I'm sitting on my ass.
And two - OMG! First, you need to smack your friend. That behavior is NOT appropriate, lying like that. She knows you have good manners and you'll introduce yourself to the hostess (or she should know, if'n she's a good friend. And second, you do NOT need to accept a friend request from the most boring, lame woman in the world. If you run into her in person and she asks why you didn't friend her (which she won't), just tell her that your Facebook is only for your closest friends, and give her your old MySpace page. ;)
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 06:47 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 06:51 pm (UTC)You obviously have more patience than I do. I wouldn't have been graceful under that kind of pressure.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 07:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 07:02 pm (UTC)More later, baby emergency (eh, they're fightin' over animal crackers, but you get me)
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 07:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 07:14 pm (UTC)I thought the whole point of collecting minerals and rock specimens was the joy you got from yomping over hill and dale and fell, rummaging around the dirt to find things yourself? (I'm from the UK - we yomp over hill and dale - trust me *G*). And you never-ever-ever take a hammer to the landscape because that is just wrong - but scavenging to find things already broken off or just lyang around is OK (or at least that's what my geology teacher always instilled in us).
Brainpool owes you both an apology and a good meal AND a bottle or wine or three.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 07:55 pm (UTC)YEAH, ME, TOO. And really, my FiL is a geologist, that's how he did it. It's all very strange to me. (I think they'd be the types that went to RenFaires and collected crystals and dragon statues if only they were a scoche nerdier. *g*)
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 07:25 pm (UTC)I'm plenty social - but I know the difference between fun and getting blasted while bragging about how much money you made as a bankruptcy lawyer, or how you managed to screw your first wife out of support. Don't even get me started on clucking mommies bragging about their kids getting into the 'right' preschool (while their kids, age 4, were still in diapers), or the Eyetalian waiter that didn't have mac and cheese for Precious.
And I never, ever want to hear about your golf shot. Really.
I put on the same face I used when my kids were having public meltdowns (kinda resigned and embarrassed, but not too much) and look at my watch. If it doesn't work the first time, lather, rinse and repeat.
I would prolly have a crabby conversation about being manulipated into a party I didn't want to go to. Life really is too short.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 07:57 pm (UTC)OY, the parties where you want to just tell people to pull out their bank statements and have done with it, NO ME GUSTA. That's prevalent here in the land of Hat-n-Cattle.
I just want to do what I want to do and enjoy it while I'm doing it. Is that too much to ask? NOPE.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 07:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 07:58 pm (UTC)Normally I'd be so panic attacked before arrival that I would have turned around. But I was promised that my presence was SPECIFICALLY REQUESTED so... Bah.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 07:43 pm (UTC)Also that last question should have been ticky box because while I voted the final option the 2nd and 3rd are also 100% right.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 07:59 pm (UTC)And AHAHAHAHAHAHA.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 07:50 pm (UTC)I don't get the lie to get you there, it's puzzling, it needs scooby snacks and a mystery van to solve it. You should invite her to a party and say that it's fancy dress and that she needs to run in screaming YEAH BABY! as the secret code to get in: and yet, the address is for some strangers wake. And then you can stand in the car park as she runs out crying and raise your left eyebrow that says 'Yeah, you know what you did know. You know what you did', because apparently the hair folicles on the left side are particularly chatty.
I sometimes get bundled up in corners by boring people at parties but I've normally got a drink in my hand (no kidding) so I just throw it back, look at my glass, pull an apologetic face while screaming out 'Oh, drinkies!' and then stagger off into the night. Me being blotoed isn't really a good indicator as to how good or not a party is really.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 08:01 pm (UTC)OH MY GOD, THAT IS BRILLIANT. I will do that. Or claim it's a Nudist party, very hush hush and chic, meanwhile everyone on the block is there waiting.
I couldn't drink because a) the drinks were shit (I don't drink beer, and that was where the good stuff was, evidently, and please know that I wasn't obvious with my distaste for their "wine selection") and b) I was by myself and had to drive back home, so I just didn't drink anything at all. I had a bottle of wine when I got home, of course.
I will add your method to my list of ways to stay sane at parties.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 07:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 08:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 08:07 pm (UTC)Dude, I've only been to Zion ONCE and even I know that's the Narrows. Jeesh.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 08:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 08:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 08:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 08:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 08:42 pm (UTC)Oh. My. Fucking. God. and what a goddamn know-it-all, too: he kept talking to the hostess about a case from some years ago, when the police killed a teen and kept telling her she was wrong in many of the details DESPITE HER BEING FRIENDS WITH THE VICTIM. It was all kinds of uncomfortable.
Oh, and he said "fuck all translators" to my face when I told him my job and that I am stupid for wanting to move to Spain instead of Germany. Soon enough, everybody started agreeing with what he said just to get him to lay off and stop talking: "Yes, Imperial Rome was awesome.", "Yes, strategy games suck." (every one of us loves these), "Yes, the Bulls are the best b-ball team ever" (it was a nerd party. We do not give a damn.).
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 08:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 09:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 09:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 09:18 pm (UTC)TOTALLY TRAUMATIC.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 09:59 pm (UTC)from boredom. ;)
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 09:39 pm (UTC)And i would make Brainpool buy me a make-up fucking lunch somewhere because, really - that is *faaaaaaail*.
Yeesh.
*i love rocks and minerals and fossils and things. my uncle was a rock hound. pity she had to make it so boring you wanted to die.*
no subject
Date: 2011-01-18 09:58 pm (UTC)