Good bye to you

When I turned 20, my friend Jenna and I decided to throw a slumber party. Complete with hard liquor, weed and a stripper. I insisted that it not really be a party for me, per se because I didn’t want to get a lap dance. Strippers make me a little uncomfortable. I would welcome presents, however, because who am I to turn down a gift. She called the stripper hut to order a hot guy to take his clothes off for us. We had a choice between a Mexican with green eyes or a blond hair, blue eyed Aryan. I wanted the Mexican because even though I’m more into white guys my very first major crush was a friend of my cousins who looked like a Chicano Elvis with green eyes. They’re always hot. She vetoed me and chose the Aryan.When he showed up dressed like a dollar store cop, I lost it and could not stop laughing. Not to mention that he had a lazy eye. Not the hottest jalapeno in the bunch. Then came the news that, “Surprise!” it was a party in celebration of my birth. A chair got pulled up to the middle of the room where I was forced to sit, much to my chagrin. The music started. ‘Bad to the bone’ was his song of choice and he started to gyrate and wiggle his hips in front of me while whisper-mouth-singing along with the tape (yes, I said tape). It took all I had to not laugh in this guys face. I was NOT into it. Finally my ‘birthday surprise’ came to an end so I anxiously passed my reign over to the rest of the girls. The whole thing was awkward. I’m convinced it was mostly due to the fact that the guy was somewhat retarded. You know, like a high functioning retard. But I digress. Dial-a-stripper asked if there was somewhere he could change so we pointed him in the direction of the bathroom. When he came out, my jaw dropped and I started laughing so hard. He had traded the cheesy cop costume with a pair of stone washed overalls with a ‘wife beater’ underneath, one of the overall straps hanging loosely down his front and untied black combat boots with the pant legs tucked in them. Just turn around and walk away the little voice in my head told me, so turn around and walk away I did. I made my way to the back patio where most of the other girls were smoking and plopped down with relief. The second I cracked open my beer the back door opened and out sauntered hookerello in his Fresh Prince of Bel Air outfit. He takes the seat between my friend and I, takes a swig of one of our beers and says, “You girls don’t mind if I have a beer do you?”
“Well it looks like you already have so I guess it doesn’t really matter what we say,” I stated.
We continued on with our riveting conversation on who knows what as we passed the bong around. As the bong was coming my way lazy-eye grabs it from my friend and rips it. He then turns to her, leans in and tries to shotgun his hit to her. For the few of you who don’t know what “shotgunning” is, let me explain: it’s when someone takes a hit of weed, or what have you, out of another persons mouth, respectively. She immediately shrinks away from him as he’s trying to pry her lips open with his. He laughs, “Hey, somebody shotgun me!” The girls just look around at each other with a look of contempt as he cashes out another bowl. He turns to me and leans in for the kill. I backed up, threw my hand up in his face and said, “Get the fuck away from me right now!” I’m generally a shy and reserved person behind the loud mouth. I don’t like confrontation, but when pushed too far…That was a whole decade ago. In between then and now my twenties have been colorful to say the least. My 21st birthday was spent during an entire weekend in which I was completely shit housed and high…like super high since I smoked out of a 4 foot bong. Needles to say that weekend is vague, at best. Between the ages of 20 and 21 are vague, at best. It’s when the ex broke up with me for the first time and I discovered that there are other boys in the world that I could have sex with. Something that never occurred to me until my best friends pretty much opened my eyes when they were so surprised that I had only slept with one guy who I ended up marrying. Thus opening up a huge can of worms that I may have finally closed the lid on. Half way through my 21st year however, I’d started to sleep with the ex again since his mom died and what better way to comfort him than with my vagina. I’d learned that the power of the vagina is vast. So after the baby came I was back with the ex from about 2001-2005ish. That was nothing but boring married life. Then came the divorce (read: separation of the dvd’s). After that it was pretty much me in a candy store full of boys and I had a major sweet tooth. Just a blur of debauchery.

Now here I am staring 30 straight in the face.At which point I will end this blahg here since I seem to have a case of the Mondays and am not really in the mood for reminiscing anymore. Though I will say this, the last few years of my 20’s really sucked, but I did end them with a bang and started them off right. I just hope I stay on this track of awesome and 30’s really are the best times of my life as so many people have often told me. I guess all I can really do is impatiently wait and find out.