Last night we had some people over to the house for my birthday. It was uneventful, but fun. At a certain point early in the evening I got overwhelmed with all the intruders in my house and slipped away to the bedroom to read my book for a while. When you are used to being at home all day making small talk can be exhausting.
"What are you up to?"
"oh, you know, working. You?"
"Yeah, just working a lot.How are the kids?"
"They're fine. Growing like weeds!"
And, although I dearly love everyone who came over, I can't take a whole lot of that. It's much better a few hours into the party after people have had too much to drink.
Like my friend Sarah, who, 30 seconds after meeting my friend Mark began to tell him the story of her first memory.
"I was sitting on the kitchen counter when i was four with my legs spread and the dog came up and started licking-you know-down there."
I could see Mark squirming, his eyes pleading with me.
"And I was like-No! Don't stop! That feels GOOD!"
I love Sarah. She is the most entertaining person I know. She will ask you straight out how much money you make and will tell her funny-abortion story to anyone. Later in the night she posed for a picture in her new ruffly underwear.
"No matter how inappropriate I may get," I will think as I watch her shock people."I will never even be in her league." It gives me comfort.
My friend Donna showed up wearing a jacket I lost last spring.
"That's mine! I thought it was gone! It's a birthday miracle!" I pointed and hopped with excitement.
"Oh, no. You're not getting this back. I found it after a party, I facebook-announced it for weeks-now it's mine."
"Take it off or I will rip it from your carcass." I said.
"No way, bitch, I am taking this on my trip to Alaska with these shoes." She pointed down at her feet, clad in stiletto heels with a cutaway toe.
"I hope you slip and fall on the ice in your whore shoes and a polar bear finds you and rips my jacket off your dead body as he snacks on your pancreas." I told her.
We love each other.
But she is going down.
Later in the night when all of the guests had passed wasted into near-comatose I surveyed the crowd with love, tinged with annoyance. I am always sober, my crazy meds give me migraines after two glasses of wine. As a result I am usually the only clear headed person in a room full of idiots. You know, when you're really drunk, how you feel like sober people are patronising you? We are.
But I love it too because things get said that no one will remember the next day but me.
"I love to swallow," said Donna.
"Me sot so much." I said, not being a jizz aficionado-to Jeff's extreme regret. I just can't do it, no matter how much deep sadness it causes my husband.
We decided that i should get hypnotised. If anyone knows a good hypnotist in Austin who will program me to overcome my gag reflex let me know. It's all part of what i do to preserve the fabric of the American family.
Donna told me about this book-
a collection of recipes that use sperm. Not a joke. Enjoy.