parties

Let’s Get Ready to Rummmmblllleee…*

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24

Or: I Swear I Watched the Super Bowl and This Post Has Almost Nothing to Do with Sports

* Wait, is that not a football thing?

By nature, I am a bookish introvert. One of my favorite ways to spend an evening is wrapped up in a blanket, tucked up on my couch with a book**.
**And marshmallows. And wine.  

But not many adventures happen when you’re safely enjoying the company of your couch cushions, and I am a big fan of adventures. There is a happy, malicious part of my brain that has rebelled from my quiet reclusiveness, and makes regular, extroverted demands on the rest of me.*** And last Monday, that part of my brain decided that it was time for a party.
***I also blame this part of my brain for all bad decisions ever made.

At least she's adorable

The bad decision devil is personally responsible for that one time I decided to…uh, nevermind. That’s a completely different story that you should forget about immediately.

I tried to argue with her using logic and sensibility.

It only looks like I'm talking to myself. She's totally there

You only think I do not have these conversations with myself out loud. At work.

But I’m not very good at it, because logic and sensibility sound very boring and not at all like “Let’s drag a bunch of our friends over to eat junk food and pretend we know all the rules of sportsball. Uh, I mean, football.”

They also think I'm a lesbian

Facebook is really determined to figure out what ads are most effective for selling things to me. They have yet to try to use dinosaurs or explosions, so they still haven’t outsmarted me.

And so that’s how I decided to throw a Super Bowl**** party. I invited many people through the magic of technology and the Internet. I reveled in the joy of party planning like an adult and the impending fun of unhealthy food and friends.
****Superb Owl. Sportsball. Can you tell I am clearly the best and most logical choice for hostess of a football party?

To the tune of "Na na na na naaaa na"

Yes. This is a song. I encourage you to sing it next time you throw a party.

And then yesterday morning arrived.

Yes. This is how I sit up in Bed

It’s like waking up the morning of the middle school science fair and realizing you never actually MADE the paper mache volcano.

I woke up to the realization that I had less than 8 hours to clean my living space and make snacks and pretend to be a cool, collected, organized human being***** instead of a girl who periodically builds blanket forts and lives on boxed macaroni and cheese.
*****Just in case I might suddenly be able to fool my friends into thinking I have my life together.

Totally effective. Definitely

Because two-handed cleaning is always effective.

Just when I decided I had clearly mastered adulthood and was definitely going to be prepared by the time people came over, disaster struck.

AND I DON'T KNOW WHERE HE CAME FROM.

IT WAS THE BIGGEST BUG IN THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE AND HE WAS LOOKING RIGHT AT ME.

I may be just slightly mortally terrified of bugs.

But I also was perpetually aware that, in addition to a bunch of friends, I had invited over a guy I like. And he was coming over early to help me make proper football snacks.

I had no time to cower from the bug.****** So it was time to get tough.
****** I named him Maximus, Destroyer of Productivity.

This actually happened

Because if you tip toe up to bugs, they won’t notice your intentions to murder them horribly. It’s also harder to run away on your tip toes.

We circled each other for a good three minutes. But I was motivated.

Probably.

Technically, that book is biodegradable and so probably not littering.

And that’s how my copy of Moby Dick ended up in the bushes outside my apartment. I am educating nature.

It’s Probably Time We Talked about Baby Showers

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Or: It’s Probably Better if My Pregnant Friends Don’t Read This One.*

*But if you do, just remember – your pregnancy is super special and like no one else’s and I love you and you deserve a thousand baby showers.

Guys. Guys.
**Also, ladies. Ladies. Because generally, you’re all a little more involved in this.

We need to sit down and have a rational discussion here. A rational discussion about office baby showers.

Nope. Definitely awkward.

Because this is just a really awkward conference for everyone involved.
Click for source, which I’m sure wasn’t awkward and was amazing and thank you for letting me use your picture.

I think it’s cool when people make babies. Awhile back, we discussed the fact that I clearly love babies because I am a sane***, non-sociopathic human being. And I think we should, in fact, celebrate the fact that women are going to produce entirely new people through the magic of science and reproduction.
***Ish. Sane-ish.

AAAAAHHH-ZEEE-VAIN-YAAAHHH

In my head, all new babies are shown off in Lion King fashion.

That’s cool stuff, guys. That’s science.

And, in the right context, I support the baby shower. Because every woman-in-the-process-of-making-more-people needs stuff. Babies require a lot of stuff. Diapers, blankets, cribs, various carrying devices, clothes…A LOT of stuff.****
****I have not made any people, so I base this list entirely on the gigantic registry lists I have hunted through for baby shower presents. I know I’ve left things out.

Since bankrupting new mothers is usually frowned upon, a baby shower is in order. One baby shower. One baby shower that your friends and family come together to throw.  This should result in a giant present fort of supplies and adorable things for new parents to use to take care of their future tiny person.

Not quite as good as a Christmas present fort

One giant present fort. From one baby shower. From people who love you and do not feel oddly obligated to buy you awkward things when they’ve never even met your family.

But then there is the now-longstanding tradition of the office baby shower. The office baby shower is frequently thrown during the work day – during a lunch break or squashed between meetings when everyone is already frazzled. Sometimes, they are thrown immediately after the work day ends, so you are obligated to stay late or look like a cold, evil baby-hater.

Honestly. I may need spinal surgery

No excuse is acceptable for missing the office baby shower.
(But getting accused of baby hating will apparently make your stick figure body disconnect from your stick figure arms)

Don’t get me wrong. Sometimes, you’re friends with your coworkers. Sometimes you’re even the really good kind of friends that see each other outside of work and actually hang out on weekends. That’s cool. Then you should get an invitation to the real baby shower, which should be an actual event showering love and affection on the expectant mother*****
*****This is my favorite phase. She’s “expecting.” Expecting a baby, but, you know, it really could be anything. “The expectant mother was expecting a human baby, but was really surprised when she had a litter of robots instead.”

In most offices, however, the office baby shower is a strange combination of awkward discussions avoiding the topic of how the baby will actually come out, and people milling around waiting for enough time to elapse that they can politely leave. In case you were wondering, the time you have to stay increases exponentially if there’s cake. Cake means you have to stay longer, otherwise you look like a glutton who uses babies as an excuse to cram sugar in your mouth and run away.

People are frustrated with the last-minute panics of remembering to bring gifts, and the mental debates of how much they were required to spend. In general, even the mother feels awkward.

So can we all just agree to cancel these?

…No? Well then can we all just agree that the cake should never, ever, ever look like this?

Nightmares. So many nightmares

This little terror is courtesy of Cake Wrecks. Click for source and hours of entertainment!

Because if not, I’m bringing this cake to your next office baby shower.