Party over here

I went to my friends Birthday blow-out this weekend and channeled my inner junior high school girl. It was a fancy 'Hollywood' party with a red carpet leading up to the door. There were these tight circles of girls in their skanky short, low-cut black dresses everywhere and then me. I was in an electric purple dress that I found at DI just that week with a high neck, 3/4 sleeves and knee covering jersey fabric swirling around my legs. I accented it with an ivory satin bow belt courtesy of my mothers closet - and it looked fantastic. Everywhere I turned there was teased hair and tiaras atop the clusters of heads. It only helped to showcase the lovely bobby pins I had accented earlier that day with large jewels from a bedazzler kit that I used to pull back one side of my hair with - and that looked fantastic too. So there I was in my purple dress out of place at the cool kids party. I didn't know who to approach since I had gone by myself and I wasn't receiving any eye contact, at least to my face. I looked to a circle of girls and then to a group of gay men. I chose the gay men. Not just because I knew they would talk to me and maybe appreciate my dress, but because upon closer inspection I realized that quite a few of the girls there had actually gone to my high school and were just as stupid back then as they appeared now. I chose right. I had some stimulating conversations about designer clothes and doing lines of coke off the VIP table in Tao. I could only relate to one of those, you guess which. After an hour and a half of soothing my urinary tract with glasses of cranberry juice minus the vodka that everyone else was having I decided I was done. I tried to make my way out the door until the b-day girl begged me to stay for cake. I patiently waited wishing I had been able to text message....arg. In the meantime an old manager who helped fire me once upon a time came in and saw me. Brandon: tall, blond, shirt open to almost the navel, devastatingly handsome and totally gay. "I hope you don't hate me.......I was such a b**ch back then.....I'm soooo sorry....don't hate me" he kept repeating as he meandered an inch away from my face and hugged me profusely. I assured him that was not the case and snuck away. Blah. My next attempt at making it to the door was met with a bigger obstacle; party man. Mr. Clean: tall, shaved head, black knit top, over the top muscles and brandy glass filled with what smelled like red bull and something else. "You aren't leaving are you?" he sneered at me. "I'm trying to" I replied. "Stay a while longer...please" he pleaded. Curiosity got the best of me and so I stayed for a little bit longer wondering what he could possibly have to talk with me about. Not much. 28, used to do voice-overs, from Orem, was someones roomate once and likes to put his hand on my arm while telling me how drunk he is. Delightful. Finally as he was awkwardly trying to get me to give him my phone number I decided it was time to leave. Ugh. I'm not currently attending Junior High anymore for this very reason. I'm too old to be around people trying to impress each other so much. Things have gotten significantly better for me since Junior High, I'm not willing to backslide into my days of braces and dances in the cafeteria. I know who I am. I wear electric purple and I wear it well.