Sunday, December 27, 2009

I'm getting old.

So I've spent pretty much the whole day today laying around my house wearing some other brand's version of a Snuggie (It's the best thing ever), watching my kids totally trash the house out playing with one toy after another. I didn't even mop once today.

Yesterday I started writing a post about the after Christmas you get all hyped up about it and then there's a huge sugar crash afterwards and you get kind of mopey and sad because it's all over and you spent a lot of money on presents that are already turning up broken and hidden under a pillow in your kids room (or maybe that was just me...). But I did not plan on writing a post about actually being hungover, because for the most part, I don't actually drink.

It's not that I have an issue with drinking. I spent the requisite post-21 period of time basically going out all the time, and while I still enjoy having a drink or two, I rarely feel the need to go out and drink a lot. It could be because almost all of my embarrassing drinking experiences are on video tape thanks to my college roommates, and whenever I start to think back on those times too fondly I can break the tapes out and remind myself of what an idiot I looked like falling down that hill. And that no one should try to do a literal interprative dance to "Tempted by the Fruit of Another." And that super soaker fights in your new apartment are never a good idea.

Anyway, I don't go out much, mainly because I have several children.. But once or twice a year, all the stars align and I end up both not pregnant and with the chance to attend some event that includes alcohol. Last year on New Years, John had to work at the restaurant on New Year's Eve and wasn't sure if he'd make it by midnight. I bought a couple of bottles of wine for us to share, and when I went to the party I took them with me hoping he would make it. Then I somehow managed to accidentally drink the better part of them myself before he arrived. That happens, right? I'm still not sure how I did that, but it sure entertained him when he arrived shortly before midnight  to see his wife totally rocking out on the drums and talking about how she should have considered it as a career choice. Luckily for me, he thought I was cute at the time and not a drunken lush.

Sidenote: Surprisingly enough, when I tried to play the same drums sober, it turned out that I was not, in fact, a drumming prodigy. I know. I can't believe it either.

So to make a long story short (I'm not actually capable of that, but I needed a  transitional statement and this is all I could think of), I had the chance to go out without any kids last night. None. My friend Jeremy drove up from southern Florida to hang out for Christmas since his family is all up north, and my mom volunteered to keep the kids so we could go hang out. We decided to relive our dorky high school past and go shoot some pool. I even got to shower, dress, and do my make up all in one day, which could possibly be a record for me. We  drove down the road until we saw a sports bar and then we went in, planning  to eat dinner and play some pool and have a drink. Singular. Possibly doubular. (Which is not a real word, and I'm not even sure why I typed it, but there's no going back now.)

Ah, the best laid plans. We had just grabbed a one of the pool tables (out of about six...pretty small cozy place) when I looked out the window and saw John and his own Christmas guest, my brother-in-law Jason.

It really, is, apparently, a small world.

BIL saw me about the same time, so I went out to say hello and we all kind of said some variation on "Wow! Who would have thought this would happen! This is crazy!" Then we all kind of stood there and looked around a lot.

Why hello, frosty mug of light beer. It's good to see you!

Thankfully, things got much less awkward after that. It actually wasn't so bad and we ended up hanging out for a while.  BIL and I got to catch up more than we'd been able to do on Christmas when all the kids were underfoot, and John and I got to make mostly good natured but heavily sarcastic jokes at one another's expense, which I like to call my very own dialect composed entirely of sarcasm, implied meaning, and scathing honesty concealed by adding 'just kidding!' to the end of every phrase. It's going to be bigger than Pig Latin, I know it! I just need to think of a good name.

The problem was that that whole dinner plan was somehow completely forgotten, and the lunch I'd had eight hours before was just not cutting it. Eventually, some more of John's entourage arrived and so Jeremy and I played some pool, and I proved once again that one thing I know I will never be is a professional pool player.  I'd only had a couple of drinks, but I failed to factor in  my lack of dinner. And the fact that I haven't had a drink in at least nine months made for a stellar combo, let me tell you.

We had this questionable waitress who was near tears every time she came to check on us, and she felt compelled to share pretty much her entire life story, which was a thrilling ride through the junior olympics in ice skating, starting college at 14 (and still being in said college at 21), and not having a friend to call her own, although she did have 14217 friends on myspace.  Oh, and she went by what she called an alias instead of using her real name, and it was just a letter. One letter.

 Then I escaped that situation only to end up making the mistake of complimenting a girls green corset top in the bathroom. Now I know her life story, too. I can never make myself walk away, either. I just stand there and nod vaguely, inserting semi-related comments when there's a pause, and the whole time I'm thinking of something like what color nail polish I would choose if I were to get a pedicure.

So now I'm looking at my cluttered post Christmas house and not caring enough to do much about it, and I'm going to go find my Snuggie-ish wearable blanket and keep it on all night. If you're going to take anything at all from this meandering post, let it be that you should always eat dinner. And that you should always have an obvious signal to let your friends know when to save you from conversations you don't want to be having. And that you should get some kind of blanket with sleeves, because they're amazing.

That's all. Cute Christmas pictures coming soon, but apparently I felt like a story with no real point tonight. Have a good one!
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