I’ve never been really great at huge social functions. I’ve always been uncomfortable and extremely anxious, until I get just drunk enough that I can be friendly and charming. If I get a little more drunk than that, and start to slur my sentences or act like a slob, then I get even more anxious. I’ve never been very good at portion control, which is exactly why I can toss back an entire bag of chips in one sitting, and that filter that a lot of people have that says “stop drinking now before you end up smashing your face off your sister’s living room wall in front of your new crush and future husband while trying to Ninja roll” is most definitely lacking.
(By the way, that’s a total true story, but I already wrote about it and totally played off the absolute horror I felt by acting all nonchalant. Honestly, I’m surprised M even gave me the time of day after that disaster).
Last night I was supposed to go to a friend’s bachlorette party. I should have stolen a shower before dinner, because the dinner hour around here is absolutely hectic and there is no break in between dinner and getting ready for bed. It takes us like an hour to try and convince N to eat something, then we clean up the living room and get ready for bed. Then it’s teeth brushing and story time and cuddles. Then it’s Aj’s turn (who generally chills with M until I’m done putting N to bed). So I was pretty stressed and exhausted by like 8:30pm.
Matt got Aj to bed while I jumped in the shower, only when I stepped out I couldn’t find my moisturiser and if I don’t moisturise my legs after my shower I will actually legitimately look like an elephant. For reals. So, I improvised.
I used baby oil, which I have actually never done before. Sure, it locked in moisture but it also made me look like David Hasseloff. And smell like a baby. So I complained to Twitter, because that’s naturally what one does when they’re in an oily situation.
Then I couldn’t find anything cute/trendy/sexy to wear that downplayed the David Hasseloff look. Like, at all. And all I could think about was Kate’s bachlorette party and how I ended up looking like a pregnant Snooki. I wish I could say that I am exaggerating but I’m not. I definitely picked the most unflattering dress to wear, and everyone was too nice to tell me so because I had “just had a baby” (Aj was actually four months old), and by that standard I looked great. Only I didn’t, because I still looked pregnant and looking like a pregnant drunk girl isn’t exactly good. I actually really did enjoy myself there though, and only cringed in horror after I saw the unflattering pictures (that I didn’t post on my blog, by the way. I conveniently chose all the not-so-terrible photos that didn’t showcase just how much I looked like a drunken pregnant Snooki).
And by this point, I had totally worked myself up into a fizzy because I was over thinking everything and stressing. And also, because I had tacos for dinner and tacos are never my friends. They kill my stomach. But I forget this minor detail every single time. Nobody wants to go to a bachlorette party looking like David Hasseloff and having tacoitis*.
I’m kind of over myself though, I wish I didn’t end up feeling physically ill any time a “new” social situation arises (like a bachlorette party with only 2 people going that I actually know). I even have a hard time when I mainly know mostly everyone there, like those two occasions that I went to hang out with all my friends from high school. Well, that crowd has grown to welcome more people that I had never hung out with before. Luckily, Steve made me take a couple shots of whiskey which always relaxes you. Or at least, you pretend it does and it doesn’t actually make you want to vomit everywhere because then they’ll all remark about how cute it is that you’ve
become a total pansy changed so much since you became a mom.
But, in the light of morning…I’m realizing just how awesome my skin feels.
*Seriously, I don’t blame you for not knowing what tacoitis is. Just use your imagination. It involves the stomach, and feeling crappy. I know, gross, I probably should have left well enough alone with my made up term.