Well, look who it is!
Yeah. I know. I haven't posted in a while. My only excuse is that my internet wasn't working. I guess you kind of need the internet to make a post, right?
I had a pretty good weekend if that counts for anything. I went to another warehouse party on Friday. Before I went to that, I went to Norman to hang out with my friend Kaylie. I met Kejuan Jones and Rufus. If you love OU you know who they are. They were funny. They got mad though because I didn't want to flirt with them back. I'm sorry, but when you talk like this,
"Hey you gerl, what yo name is? Where you be from?"
I will most likely walk away from you with a snarl upon my face. No offence to you, it's just that I find myself having to think harder than I do in a regular conversation. I have to re-figure and re-word the sentence you just said in my head to actually understand it. Is that bad?
The warehouse was fun. I met up with a boy that I thought I liked named Jonathan, but I changed my mind later that night. He was really sweet, but he kept asking if I thought we made a cute couple, and I got weirded out. What do you say to that?
"Yes. I think we make a cute couple because our skin tones compliment each other."
Am I trying to win Miss America? No. I am just trying to DATE YOU.
I wanted to say, "Dude, it's not like you are a pair of shoes that I am trying to match to a red silk cami!"
Gah, idiot!
After the warehouse a huge group of us crashed an Edmond party. It wasn't really a party until we arrived. I guess when you bring 10 girls and 3 boys to a party people tend like you. That's only because at most parties here you get 3 guys to every girl. Fun for us, lame for them. The sausage party really liked that we came with lots of girls.
Needless to say, after the party we were all a little "tired."
It was my idea to have everyone follow me to my grandma's house, because I knew that Mema wouldn't be mean to the inebriated ones. I didn't want my cute guy friends to drive home on a full tummy of liquor and beer. I think one of them even did beer before liquor (not good).
So we arrive at Mema's house. One boy goes up stairs and promptly takes of his jeans and falls on a bed. I get him up and tell him that he has to stay downstairs. He picked up his pants and walked down the stairs and passed out on the floor in the "formal living room." I stayed in the T.V. room with the other two boys who weren't as drunk as the first, and we made fun of him. Mema soon found us to be home. She yelled my name and got on to me until I had a chance to tell her what was going on. She finally understood and quit getting on to me. But did she go back to bed? No. She kept finding reasons to come down stairs and embarrass me in front of all that was there.
When she got me alone again, she told me that it smelled like "drink."
I came back with, "Of course it smells like drink! That is why we're here. I want them to stop being drunk so they can drive and not die!"
She went into the kitchen and made coffee with her new coffee maker. It's really loud. It sounded like she was grinding stone in there, but it was only the coffee beans.
Papa soon came downstairs to join the party. That was fun. They both sat in their large chairs, drank their coffee, and looked at us. I really couldn't define the look they were giving. The first guy found his way to where we were and charmed Mema with his drunken conversation. She didn't really seem to mind all that much. They left at about 6:30 a.m.
To my dismay, Mema actually thanked me for feeling as comfortable as I do here at Hotel Grandparents. I guess she liked that I had the nerve to bring drunk people home to sober up.
Thank you mema.
Love,
Brittany, Lauren, Lauren, Kelsi, Kari, Vera, Grace, Lisa, Tim, Brian, Jonathan, and one random one that left before I got his name
aka Mema's Party 2005
I had a pretty good weekend if that counts for anything. I went to another warehouse party on Friday. Before I went to that, I went to Norman to hang out with my friend Kaylie. I met Kejuan Jones and Rufus. If you love OU you know who they are. They were funny. They got mad though because I didn't want to flirt with them back. I'm sorry, but when you talk like this,
"Hey you gerl, what yo name is? Where you be from?"
I will most likely walk away from you with a snarl upon my face. No offence to you, it's just that I find myself having to think harder than I do in a regular conversation. I have to re-figure and re-word the sentence you just said in my head to actually understand it. Is that bad?
The warehouse was fun. I met up with a boy that I thought I liked named Jonathan, but I changed my mind later that night. He was really sweet, but he kept asking if I thought we made a cute couple, and I got weirded out. What do you say to that?
"Yes. I think we make a cute couple because our skin tones compliment each other."
Am I trying to win Miss America? No. I am just trying to DATE YOU.
I wanted to say, "Dude, it's not like you are a pair of shoes that I am trying to match to a red silk cami!"
Gah, idiot!
After the warehouse a huge group of us crashed an Edmond party. It wasn't really a party until we arrived. I guess when you bring 10 girls and 3 boys to a party people tend like you. That's only because at most parties here you get 3 guys to every girl. Fun for us, lame for them. The sausage party really liked that we came with lots of girls.
Needless to say, after the party we were all a little "tired."
It was my idea to have everyone follow me to my grandma's house, because I knew that Mema wouldn't be mean to the inebriated ones. I didn't want my cute guy friends to drive home on a full tummy of liquor and beer. I think one of them even did beer before liquor (not good).
So we arrive at Mema's house. One boy goes up stairs and promptly takes of his jeans and falls on a bed. I get him up and tell him that he has to stay downstairs. He picked up his pants and walked down the stairs and passed out on the floor in the "formal living room." I stayed in the T.V. room with the other two boys who weren't as drunk as the first, and we made fun of him. Mema soon found us to be home. She yelled my name and got on to me until I had a chance to tell her what was going on. She finally understood and quit getting on to me. But did she go back to bed? No. She kept finding reasons to come down stairs and embarrass me in front of all that was there.
When she got me alone again, she told me that it smelled like "drink."
I came back with, "Of course it smells like drink! That is why we're here. I want them to stop being drunk so they can drive and not die!"
She went into the kitchen and made coffee with her new coffee maker. It's really loud. It sounded like she was grinding stone in there, but it was only the coffee beans.
Papa soon came downstairs to join the party. That was fun. They both sat in their large chairs, drank their coffee, and looked at us. I really couldn't define the look they were giving. The first guy found his way to where we were and charmed Mema with his drunken conversation. She didn't really seem to mind all that much. They left at about 6:30 a.m.
To my dismay, Mema actually thanked me for feeling as comfortable as I do here at Hotel Grandparents. I guess she liked that I had the nerve to bring drunk people home to sober up.
Thank you mema.
Love,
Brittany, Lauren, Lauren, Kelsi, Kari, Vera, Grace, Lisa, Tim, Brian, Jonathan, and one random one that left before I got his name
aka Mema's Party 2005
posted by Unknown at 4:11 PM
7 Comments:
I heard Mema's retelling of this event at breakfast this morning. She definitely did not know about the disrobing upstairs business! She did say that "drunk boy's" dad is a deacon of some church and every other word he said was "Dude!" He also said that his mom asked him if he would "take Jesus with him everywhere." He noted that he thought Jesus might have had a good time that night. (Mema even chuckled at that sacrilege.)
She also noted that she made it clear (over and over apparently) that she did not approve of such behavior. She truly thought that "drunk boy" was the only one drinking - I had to bust her bubble on that one.
B- Mema and Papa's home is not a halfway house. Keep your drunken friends away unless they have absolutely no other place to go. It is nice that you trust your Mema to not freak out when awakened by drunken boys at 4:00am. She would have kicked my ass if I had done that at your age; the one time she caught me drinking, I had to sit up and read aloud from the bible.
By the way, Mema has instructions to call me should this happen again. The only thing more embarrassing than your grandparents staring at your drunken friends would be having your grandparents and your mom staring at your drunken friends, don't you think? Plus I am not very good at just staring. I tend to talk. A lot. :)
I never had any sort of safe house to crash at, all my relatives are just like my parents. The one time that I did come home drunk was when my friend took me home, but when my mom heard him pull in the driveway, he left me there. And by there I mean face down in my front yard, half consious. Needless to say, my parents were not thrilled.
Oh, and Mama T, my age rhymes with linebean, by the way. I made that word up. Hell, it might even be latin, who the hell knows? But you don't have to guilt yourself with contributing to my acts, as I would get drunk and do all the things I do even if I didn't have a website to share on.
I gotta get back to wasting my life on facebook now.
J-
Thanks for absolving me of my guilt of encouraging your underage rebellion. I was right. Brit is linebean too.
Brit’s dad had a similar incident as you when he was 18. His friends dropped him off at his house, but his front yard had a small incline which he couldn’t quite make it up. His mom looked out the window, saw a strange man laying in her yard and called the police. Do you know how embarrassed she was when she had to throw open the door and yell “Wait, that’s my son!” when the police picked him up out of the yard?
While we discourage B regarding underage drinking, we are not completely unaware of what kids do at this age, and we always want to know she is safe. Though I am rather amazed at Mema’s reaction. I can tell you for sure that she has lightened A LOT since I was linebean!
T-
I will call you if I ever have to chaperone a drunken party at Mema’s. Not only would wine be appropriate, I think it might be necessary. Of course, that is my general attitude towards wine anyway.
B-
Is Jonathon the 6’4’’ basketball player? Where do you find these boys who behave like girls?
Kejuan and Rufus, huh? Did Rufus have any explanation for his horrible defense in the Orange Bowl?
Haha. linebean.
I hung out with Drunk Boy and two of his friends last night. I met his father. He has no clue that his boy has ever drank. The funny thing about it is that Drunk Boy is 21.
Drunk Boy is not a bad guy, though. He actually goes to American University in D.C.
He goes back in May. So, he's really smart. He's also indian so he gets to go there for free. After he told me that, I told him that my mema used to live by an indian tribe. Her sister got beat up by one of the indian kids. Ha ha. Priceless. The little indian even had a bow and arrow.
Mema is playing her christian station in every room of the house again. The preacher is talking about the fact that he didn't know that deer made noises. Are you serious? Your head is filled with knowledge from God and the Bible, and yet, you didn't know that a deer made noise?
There was also just a commercial about "reviving your relationship!"
They give you wedding cake.
Have a lovely day.
I think Mema is praying that someone on her Christian radio station will do an impromptu sermon on the evils of granddaughters bringing drunken friends home, clothes laying on the bedroom floor, and sleeping past 9am.
Repent, Brit.
No, Jonathan is not the 6'4" basketball player. He is 6'2" though, and he does play basketball. Spencer is the one you are thinking of. I passed him off to Huffaker. He was odd. Really odd. The only good thing about him was his very pretty hair. His hair is brownish-red and very long. Every time he goes to shoot a basket he tosses his hair back so it's not in his eyes. The whole world stops and there is a glowing light around him. He moves in slow motion. The clock is counting down from :8. The ball flies through the air as spencer landes on his feet pointing at his team. The ball swishes through the net and everyone claps. 'Cause he's hott.
Just so you know Brit I would have been slapped if I brought drunken boys into Mema's home, Even if I was your age. I feel it very unfair because one time I brought Beau home with Megan and I at like 7:00 P.M. and he was sober and mom knew I was bringing friends over. Also I wish you would stop telling people about this Spencer boy shooting a ball, because it didn't happen, and I thought it was true at first until mom said you were dream sequencing, so I felt like I was being lied to.
Love your sister,
Alexandra Donn .
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