So, I had the most dramatic weekend ever.
And I mean ever.
It all started out when my awesome cousin came to visit because she had been invited to a semi-formal by a friend from high school. She's kind of dramatic just in conversation, but this was only a preview of the hilarity that was to ensue.
Once she arrived, I gave her the tour of the "apartment," followed by the hall bath. Oh, the adventures of a hall bath.
As she was getting ready, she was telling me about how she wasn't really excited about being here for this function and that she wasn't really friends with her date, but had felt obligated to go with him. We worked out a plan for her to call for rescue if necessary, went over a few self-defense moves, and strategically planned for her to leave her stuff with me so that she would be forced to return to my room that night. I then escorted her to the library (of all places) to meet her date for the evening.
Anna and I then decided it would be a good idea to attend the Vagina Monologues. Hmmm. Personally, I don't like to talk about "down there," nor do I like to scream the c-word aloud with fifty other women and a smattering of "men." Again I say, hmmm.
After re-composing ourselves (and collecting what was left of our dignity), we got ready and headed out to Fraternity Court for the ZTA/ΠΚΦ Beach Party mixer. After standing around while the band finished setting up for 30 minutes, the party commenced. Except that Anna and I had to take turns checking people in the door, as well as checking for signs of general wastyfaceness.
Considering the party a success after only one fight between the boys at our party and some brothers of a different frat, as well as a showdown between two opponents in the race for a seat in student government, we decided to head home for some non-beach wear.
Meanwhile, I haven't heard from Mary in a while, so, naturally, I'm a little concerned. I texted her, and she informed me that her date had professed his undying love for her and cried, making the evening a general success. She informed me that she was, in fact, staying with him and his friends and would text me in the morning.
Anna and I then headed over to visit some guy friends of ours, only to turn around after learning that they were having a "boys' night" and we would look stupid going in there, only to be begged to come back and hang out. Therefore, we walked back to where the party was at. However, Josh apparently desired some other activity that would provide more mental stimulation that they game that Anna described as a "mix between FarmVille and Risk." What the...?! So, Josh and I headed out to Fraternity Court for some fun and frivolity.
Once we reached our destination (the back of Sigma Nu, to be exact), we were informed by a very surly Sigma Nu that we don't know that the party is closed until midnight, so we'd better not be thinking of coming in! It was approximately 12:15. Deciding not to press our luck, we forged ahead to the ΠΚΦ house, which was still full of sand and some strange plant that the band member compared to "the reefer that grew everywhere when I was in 'Nam." Nice.
Meanwhile, I'm trying to figure out where exactly Mary is. I haven't heard from her in a while (other than a consistent stream of texts begging to go to the Chinese buffet the next day), and I can't seem to find her amongst the other revelers. I text her, and she informs me that she is not drunk, only awkward and that she has caused a girl to black out. Again, general success of an evening. Also, she and her date never made it to the function, which explains why I can't find her.
Josh and I proceed to the Pike house, where I meet up with a few friends. After a while, we move on to the Sigma Nu house, dodge the surly brother no one knows, and commence to having a good time.
Until Mary texts me to inform me that I should probably come get her and she should probably come back to my room.
Josh and I set out immediately to rescue Mary from impending doom. She informs us of where she is, and we soon pull up outside. I got out of the car and hovered awkwardly near the porch, listening for signs of disturbance and/or gunfire. When she doesn't come out after a while, I go back to the car where Josh is waiting. As soon as I get back to the car, the front door is thrown open, and this guy asks if he can help us with something. P.S. This guy informed me the other day that he is in fact a Communist. I cautiously ask Mr. Socialist if Mary is inside. He informs me that there aren't any girls inside. Hmmm. Mary is, in fact, a girl. Then, a guy wearing only a bathrobe appears in the doorway asking what's going on. So I ask him if Mary is there. "Oh, you mean Beth?" "No, her name is Mary." "Well, we have a Martha." "I'm looking for Mary." "She's not here."
I apologize and get back into the car, and Josh starts to pull out of the drive. Suddenly, my phone rings, and Mary is shouting, "No! Don't go! I'm here! They're lying! I'm here! Don't leave me! I can't get out!" We immediately race back up to the house, and Mary come streaking out, her bag trailing behind her and her makeup smeared all over her face. She leaps into the car and screams, "You saved me!," and we roar out of the place like the Bolsheviks are coming (pun intended).
Later, over stuffed crust pizza, she tells us the whole story of the evening, including all of the tears, being seen nearly naked by a probable homosexual, a game of never-have-I-ever, and making a girl pass out. The woeful tale is actually pretty funny after the fact, and we laugh, watch some Olympics, and go to bed.
Mary wakes me the next morning with the following text: "Wake upppp! I need food!"
And yes, we went to the Chinese buffet and ate our weight in lo mein and fortune cookies.
Quote of the weekend: "Then I found out he's an Eagle scout. That might be a deal breaker." - Mary
So, I had the most dramatic weekend ever.
When I was a little girl, I couldn't wait to grow up. I thought that once I became a teenager, nothing would hurt me anymore. I looked forward to the days when a scrape on the knee would draw no more tears than a mosquito bite.
Well, I'm officially older. And you know what? Things hurt worse than they did when I was a child. Yes, knee scrapes come along far less often and are far less significant than they once were, but the hurts and disappointments that come with age last longer and leave a far deeper scar. I have to worry about pain from more than just falling off my bike or getting a shot from the doctor. My heart can and has been broken, and that's something that a simple bandaid just can't fix.
Also, I believed that I would fall in love in high school or college and get married right after graduation at the age of 21 or 22. Then, I assumed I would start having babies at 23. I never imagined that I would celebrate my 21st birthday having never been asked on a date or kissed.
That's right folks, you're looking at possibly the oldest perpetually single girl since Drew Barrymore in Never Been Kissed. And I like to think that I was cooler than her in high school. Maybe I'm wrong.
How does that happen? How did I get so old and not even realize it? When did I get too old to play with Barbies? When was the last time that I watched Barney, and who decided that I should grow up and move on? When was the last time that coloring was an acceptable activity during classtime? How did I finally find out that my parents really don't know everything and can't protect me for the rest of my life? What was the last thing I said to that friend, and did I know that I would never see them again?
I know that everyone has to grow up eventually, but it seems that the older I get, the harder I cling to my childhood and the days when it didn't matter if that kid on the playground called me fat because I knew that I would go home and my Daddy would still love me.
And when did my Daddy's love stop being enough?
Why didn't anyone ask me if I was ready to grow up? Why didn't I have more of a choice in the matter?
When I was a little girl, I couldn't wait to grow up, but, now that I have, I'd give anything to be five again.
‹ Labels: cinnamon tea›