Sunday, June 15, 2014

Boy oh boy

Baby showers that run past 10 PM... is that fucking normal? Is that fucking protocol now?

I bit my tongue, swallowed my pride... and left my house during the half-time of the last World Cup game of the day.
I thought this party would be done by 8... maybe 8:30 at the latest.
The one thing being dangled over my head to keep me at this hellhole for so long? The fucking gender of the baby.
It was a gender-reveal party which also serves the purpose of a baby shower. I've never experienced this.
Besides the fact that I wanted to experience a gender reveal, I also stayed because of my stubborn, extremely persistent personality.
This little creature is a BOY! Just look at that belly!
I stayed because I wanted to prove my point.

By the time 9PM rolled around, I was anxious... visibly frustrated, constantly rubbing my forehead and burying my face into the palm of my hands.
I went to this party alone, and I'm not on good terms with the pregnant woman-- she's being a total cunt with her pregnant hormones... and I have little patience for that shit. HOWEVER, I try my best to be rational and behave myself... constantly reminding myself that she has a parasite growing inside her that is capable of controlling everything she does and thinks, and so, I take a deep breath and put up with her shit.
SO, I told myself I had to be an adult... a rational, nice adult, and go to her baby shower, even if it was me all by my lonesome... in a sea of married/divorced/coupled women who have or are going to have children.
I did my usual "pump up" routine... where I think happy thoughts, take deep breaths, listen to dance music, and try my hardest to make myself laugh. I tell myself I'm decent looking... and remind myself to not feel sorry for myself. That sort of shit. Social anxiety sucks FUCKING. DICK.
And so... after going through outfits for 30 minutes, I finally grabbed my shit and headed to the party.

Typical torture occurred at this shindig. I walked in, couldn't "see" shit because of the social anxiety that creeps up when I am first exposed to a large group of people. The first people I saw were the family of a girl I'm not too happy with (well, she's the one who is upset with me... because she can't handle my timid ways and that frustrates her, which only guilt-trips the shit out of me). I said my hellos, then finally found the pregnant woman.
I then went ahead and sat with the family of the girl who is mad at me.
This girl has a 6-month old... and so... she's the one I chilled with-- the six-month old.
I didn't eat anything, because they had a very unappetizing shrimp cocktail for food. (That's always tricky, telling a Mexican woman you're not hungry at her party)
I just sat there... tickling a little creature that was apathetic to me, not discussing a damn fucking thing beyond "Oh MAN, she has such fucking HUGE eyelashes!"or the freakish strength possessed by this same baby... ok, I also discussed proper M&M eating etiquette. (This girl eats them with a spoon... ?)
I sat there patiently waiting for this grandiose event of the baby reveal.
Mariachis came in and fucking wrecked everything... all loud and shit... flirting with all the girls... dirty, shameless flirting. They made this fucking party DRAG for what felt like an eternity.
What I must say, is I'm glad no one asked me about my relationship status or WHY I don't have kids-- I am not kidding when I say I was the only single, childless chick. They just kind of sat there, pitying me and how lonely I am... but that I can handle, since it's going to be the story of my life.

Anyway, 10PM rolled up and I was finally fed up-- I HAD to leave.
That's just crazy shit... crazy fucking shit. Parties with bottles and babies and pacifiers and pastel colors abound... no liquor or music (there were the mariachis... but that's just seven extra people we have to make room for, seven extra people with whom we must interact, seven strangers we have to applaud each time they finish a song. That's too much fucking work) or dancing... just a bunch of old, nosey ladies... bunch of loud, obnoxious kids running around giving me a fucking headache and anxiety attack thinking they're going to suffer some sort of accident... no no... no no, fuck that.

At least I don't feel "drained" emotionally... just irritated. I think that has to do with recent events, but I'll discuss that later, when I get some sleep in and completely forget the anxiety of this event.

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