So I didn’t go out on Friday night, but I went to a party last night. My cousin told me that some girls who work for Red Bull were having a party (doesn’t that sound promising?), and so I pulled together my costume (people could actually tell what I was! It was really exciting, especially because they guessed based on details that I didn’t think were too obvious, like my boots. Sadly, I didn’t take a picture) and went out with him and his friends. I’ve mentioned before that I’m really not a partier, and last night kind of confirmed it. Or, maybe that isn’t true, but I’m not a crazy jello shots and weed partier. It occurred to me last night that the reason I always glommed onto a guy when I used to go out my freshman and sophomore years of college was because I am terrible at huge party small talk, especially if I don’t know very many people there. So that’s a problem. It was kind of fun, but in a really loud, smokey, not-drinking way (they ran out of cups). I wouldn’t have felt great about tying one on anyway though- the party was full of girls who were too drunk and getting sick, and no one wants to be that girl. There were lots of good costumes though- my cousin and his friends went as Tom Hanks characters, and there were a bunch of girls dressed as Care Bears (who apparently don’t wear pants? They were all wearing nude-colored spankies with bunny tails that bounced when they ran around. It was kind of cute, but weird).
I’m old. It’s ok, but I’m an old 22 year old. I sort of skipped the part where I live in a crappy party house with a beer pong table, and let people smoke in my house. I’m a little jealous of people who can enjoy that kind of thing, but I’m happy with not being at that point in my life. It was nice to go out, and I’m glad I did, but mostly because it really confirmed how comfortable I am with not going out all the time. Plus, my costume rocked. 🙂