Last night was the third installment of the ongoing trend of Stacey, Tiffany and I meeting up with my sis, Summer, when she would visit for an eve of pure gluttony. We dubbed them "Wine and Cheese Parties" for lack of a more creative name.
I knew the evening would have to start off better than my surprise party for Harry and the exploding Marinara incident.
I was wrong.
I got home and realized - Harry had my keys.
So Summer and I sit in the driveway and wait for dad to come unlock my front door.
I'm doing the pee pee dance like nobody's business in the front seat of a Ford Taurus.
I change and ditch the toe-scrunching heels. I pad happily around my kitchen, enjoying the roughness of the new Raffia rugs that are adorning the icky white-tiled floor. Humming slightly to the tune that was coming from my musically inclined sister, I grab a glass bowl, turn and watch while it sails, poltergeist-like, to the floor.
And shatters.
A bunch.
"Well, Holly!" Summer turned around to stare at me like I had done something so evil (breaking a cheap glass bowl) that the gatekeeper would never let me into heaven.
The worst part?
I had lifted up one leg when the bowl hit and could not find any place NOT covered in shards of glass to lower my piggies. So I stood, like an oversized, paler version of a Flamingo while my sister started slowly and methodically sweeping up the glass shards that shone from the floor.
Knowing my luck, I kept still.
The luck just kept flowing, though. My bud Stacey had a close encounter of the Oldsmobile kind and Tiffany was forced to stay over - which is torture for anyone - but especially when one's job is located in close proximity to the morgue.
Later that night, when the wine was drunk, the cheese was devoured and the chocolate fountain was dismantled (oh yes, there was a fountain of chocolate, and, oh yes, we stuck every edible item around in it!) we decided to do makeovers!
Fun - and very TLC channel-ish!
I was off my game. Usually I'm very good at expertly applying make-up to the faces of my friends, turning their "girl-next-door" looks into stunning beauties. However, when I was done applying a liner to my sister's eyeballs. I stopped, leaned back.
And laughed.
She looked like a lost member of the KISS army.
She was nicer to me.
My face was even, my eyes were bright and, by George! Were those lips?!
Tiffany decided to immortalize my big-haired, face-painted glory on film and snapped a few highly complicated pics with her digital camera. I plan on using these as my headshots when applying to be an extra/Matthew's fluffer on the movie set here in Huntington.
To be so immodest - I loved the pictures of me. Yes - I look chubby - but - get this - my nose doesn't look like it should have it's own zip code! And my less-than-perfect smile - well - it looked stunning!
Now, the whole package was weird - but that's just me. I constantly think I look weird - like a Jewish girl that's been eaten by a chubby Methodist spawned by Cousin It.
But I digress.
The party was a smashing success, even with the massive amount of chocolate clean-up afterwards and my sister's glossy stare at the television when "The Bachelor" came on.
Girls - if you're reading this - I beg of you - take the time to schedule a Girls' Night In! It's necessary for the survival of our species - and - it helps to prevent the disease that plagues most couples. The "we" disease. "We are doing this", "We don't like scary movies, " "We like Chinese!"
Get my drift?
Oh, and Happy Valentine's Day!
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