On Saturday night, I had an "I'm gonna die alone" party. What I enjoyed were the people who need to get on Amazon and maybe buy a sense of humor. "Oh my goodness, that's awful! Why would you have a party like that?"
I feel like there are two kinds of people in this world: People who say there are two kinds of people in this world, and people who aren't assholes. The point is, when people don't get me, it's irritating. And I wonder how their brains work all day. Do they just think straightforward thoughts? Today it's sunny. I must look at the weather to see if tomorrow it will be sunny. The news is on. News is happening.
How do they not stab their own minds out?
Tall Boy came over early to help me decorate. Since I have 3294394 photos to show you of the evening, I won't ALSO show you how I spent Friday night and all fricking day Saturday doing the rest of my unpacking and hanging all my pictures and generally getting the house ready. AND I bought a chair, a cowboy chair. Stay tuned, for more Fascinating House Adventures by June.
Anyway, Tall Boy made two artichoke pizzas, from scratch, which was awkward because so did I. ("How terrible, June. You really both made pizzas from scratch? Wait, lemme get an X-acto Knife, so I can stab out my mind.") Tall Boy kept saying things like, "Do you have a pizza cutter?" and "Have you got a kitchen knife?"
Every time I'd look at him like, "?" he'd say, "I KNEW you wouldn't have that" and he'd run to his car to get it. Remember that other time that--who was it? Some child, one of my millennial child friends, came over to cook with me, and she brought every single thing, not even knowing if I had a baking sheet. In fact, I don't. Turns out I forgot to pack some. You talk to Ned, he'll tell you I took everything, but here I am with no tin foil, man.
Oh my god, anyway.
I also made hilarious cards for all the food, and as people came in with more food, I had my pen ready to make more hilarious cards. A couple people asked me, "Did you make these up yourself?"
I handed them swords so they could stab their minds with a flourish.
It wasn't long before people started POURING in, and I could no longer keep with with my funny, funny cards. All of a sudden there was no room for any more food, and dear god, where are we gonna put all the liquor, and I shouted to the crowd, "WHO INVITED ALL THESE PEOPLE?" Fewks was absolutely right. How WERE we gonna fit them all in my teensy house?
Plus? Everyone laid their coats on my bed? And Iris was sure to lie on everyone's coat, one by one. Enjoy your cat allergies!
Every time I looked at Lily, she was sucking up to another person. There was a half-hour period where I saw her being held like a baby and passed around like a joint. Lily didn't care. Lily is a slutty slut slut from Trampytown.
Shots of the crowd. Here we have the mood spectrum.
At some point, we decided (okay, one of the Alexes decided) we'd make people pose in my hole, which reminds me of college, but was not at all like college. You know how you're at a party and you might be feeling...exuberant and something seems like a great idea, then you wake up less exuberant and you were all what the fux? This was not one of those times. I love our pose-in-the-hole shots.
(Give Tall Boy a pose idea, he's a barnacle with it.)
This is my absolute favorite. Plus, I have Botox brows so bad.
Does it upset you when I have party guests you can't recognize? You're all, There's Marty, there's one of the Alexes...but then when it's someone I don't cover often, are you all angry, like when they'd have a party on Friends and all these strangers would be mingling in the background?
A lot of people said they like my house, which was nice to hear. It is a cute house. And now I have pictures up! Look at Looming Cooter painting, right back where it always was. It is at once incredibly comforting and phenomenally sad. I wonder if I'll ever be able to look back on my year abroad and say, Heh, yeah, remember when that didn't work out? Or will I always think MOTHER OF GOD WHY DIDN'T THAT WORK OUT?
Once? I lived with this boy? And maybe that's my problem, right there. Anyway, I wanted to marry him, and he didn't want to marry me, so I left in a huff. I showed HIM. Two months later, he married someone else.
That was in 1994, and I still can't calmly look back and say, Heh. That kind of sucked.
So.
After my guests had gone (the party went from 7 till midnight, so that seems like a success, right?), I noted the HORROR that was my kitchen. I was OUT of dishwasher stuff, so I did all those dishes by hand, turned up my sad, alone playlist and sang along. When I finally got into bed after 1:00, a day in which I had sat down NONCE, and nonce is a great word, I waked in to find this.
Drunks. I had to crawl around them like I was in a minefield. Lu insisted on keeping that big white pillow, and since it was her birthday, I allowed it.
So that sums up my partay, and I know you wish I'd pronounce it partay more often.
Nonce,
June
