Parties

When a friend tells you he just got an invite to go to a house party at the shore and it's all girls at the house, it's never all girls at the house. It's too good to be true is what it is. Everyone knows that when a friend says there are going to be tons of girls at a party that's never going to be the case. Once that word is out, it's too late. Every one of those girls guy friends already got the word and invited at least three of their guy friends. It makes me wonder if that's how girls work. Do they tell their guy friends that they are having a party with a ton of girls just to get guys to come out and thus kill the vibe of the party? That never works in the opposite way. I could never tell a girl friend that I was having a gigantic sausage party and therefore they should come over and invite all their girl friends. Just doesn't work. It leads me to believe that all parties somehow turn into sausage parties. Unless its a dinner party with couples. Kinda makes me want to have a dinner party with couples and make sausages just for the hell of it.

Feels Like the First time

I've probably been thinking about this particular blog for a long time and never felt like it was the right time to write about it. But since I have no girlfriend, and no real prospects on the horizon, I think I can finally do it. I think one of the funniest, (not funny while it's happening) moments in a new relationship is that first time you spend the night at a girl's house. Regardless of all the stress that goes along with that situation; the awkward moment when you realize it's a possibility to stay over, the awkward moment when you try to determine what is, and what isn't acceptable behavior in terms of what is an acceptable level of undress, etc etc. The list goes on. We've all been there, all done that. Well, hopefully we've all been there and done that. It's an important part of growing up. But on top of all that, the next morning is when the really embarrassing part happens. All the rest is normal stuff. But the embarrassing part is that I have my routine in the morning. Wink. And I wake up early, so that complicates things. I do the slow as humanly possible roll over as not to wake the sleeping beauty. But she inevitably is concerned that I am leaving without saying goodbye, or getting up to snoop around her house while she is asleep. You know, shuffle through her mail, go through her drawers, check her cell phone. Then, I tip-toe in the dark to the restroom, tripping over random shoes, and dirty laundry baskets along the way. Alright, I see this blog is going somewhere I don't want it to go. But as all this is happening I am stressing about the bathroom proximity, the elapsed time, the decibel level, just the thought of them knowing exactly what it is that I am doing in there. It's all very embarrassing and amusing to me all at once. But, it's all a part of growing up. Then there is that moment when you creep back into the bedroom... slide under the covers while trying carefully not to make much noise. "Everything alright?" "yeah, everything's fine, just had to go to the bathroom" "you were gone a while" "yeah..." No wonder I am single. I am a disgrace to myself. I gotta say I'm pretty happy with that sketch though. Looks more like my house than any girls house I've ever been in unfortunately. (protecting the innocent I guess)