I know you’re jealous of my ultra-classy lifestyle

Last Friday night found me with an invitation to dinner from NY and and invitation to a party from my engaged friend, Lori.

Dinner with NY was enjoyable, filled with our usual outbursts of inappropriately loud laughter and discussions of a flyer I designed for his band (which he loved, by the way. I had been worried for nothing). During our dinner, I started getting texts from my drunk cousins (who NY knows from high school—they are the ones I was with the night I drunkenly gave him my phone number) asking me questions to the nature of, “Have you licked his balls yet?”

Maturity. They has it.

I couldn’t hold back my reaction of pure amused horror (Is that possible? To be amused and horrified at the same time? Apparently it is.) from NY, so he asked what was up, and I explained that my wasted cousins were harassing me with sexual text messages. He then requested the phone number of one of them (because neither of them would recognize his number) and texted her, “Ball parade. Your chin.”

Needless to say, this became a fun game for the rest of the night, even after NY and I parted ways after dinner, with her trying to guess who he was, and him coming up with funny stuff to reply with, using me as an accomplice via text message.

Anyhoodster, after dinner I drove to “the river” (what people around these parts call a nearby body of water that rednecks and rich folks alike call home) to meet my friend Lori at the aforementioned party.

Y’all. This was a Redneck River Party if I ever done seen one.

There was at least one Camaro in the yard.

Songs about riding dirt roads permeated the stereo speakers alongside gangsta rap and Linkin Park.

The keg was floated by 10pm.

Store-bought Jello shots were passed around.

Beer funneling ensued.

(Side note: Lori, what prompted you to funnel five beers? Are you 19? Is this spring break? Methinks not.)

It was quite the sight to behold.

At one point, I was approached by a guy whose name was, honest to God, Clem. I could NOT make this shit up if I tried. What made it even better? He asked me, “I’m sorry, I seem to have lost my phone number. Can I have yours?”

I think the laughter that followed was a bit excessive, but what can I say? It was funneh.

There was also another guy who would NOT leave me alone. Let’s call him, Eager Beaver. He was a bit pushy and I, in an attempt to be nice, just smiled and nodded, attempting to balance politeness and uninterestedness.

He wasn’t getting it.

As NY and I were texting back and forth, Eager Beaver (EB) commenced to repeatedly snap my phone shut.

Um. Dude. Not cool. And totally not your business.

I was highly annoyed.

At one point, EB asked me about my “fiance or husband,” and I told him I wasn’t married or engaged, but that I was dating someone. He chose to ignore that last part, because later on after I left, he asked Lori if I was dating someone and she told him, “yes.” He then said, “That’s not what she told me!”

Ugh.

Anyhoodster. So he asked Lori if I’d said anything about him to her. Lori said, “She said you got on her nerves.”

Lori. I heart you.

EB still Facebook friended me the next night, however. Maybe he’s a masochist?

Before I left the party, though? I got to experience a girl fight. It was awesome and terrible all at the same time. I was seated on the couch, which was positioned in the middle of the living room, and I was RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE of the crossfire. Thankfully, people were holding them back and it never came to blows over my fragile little body.

One of the girls’ boyfriends was crying. There was screaming. “Whore” and “bitch” were thrown about mercilessly.

And I dipped the fuck out of there.

I always flee when people fight. Even if they’re not, like, physically fighting. Because there’s always the possibility that it will come to blows. I guess fighting just makes me uncomfortable, and there’s always a possibility that the cops will come. I remember one time my (then) boyfriend had to chase me down the sidewalk because I saw a guy throw a punch at another guy and I just TOOK OFF down the road without saying anything to anyone.

You would think small towns would be boring, right?

You, my friend, would be wrong.

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On a side note, I want to say thank you to everyone who voted me for Best Relationships/Sex Blog for the 20 Something Bloggers Bootleg Awards. I am so humbled and grateful. All of the nominees deserve a shout out, so go check ‘em out. Lots of deserving bloggers on there. I wish everyone could win, but alas, that is not how “awards” work. Psh.

In all seriousness, though. Thanks a lot. I got the warm fuzzies. Heart.