Maryoceane

Yesterday was Lil’s birthday. She turned 24, and apparently 21. In true birthday fashion, Lil got wasted. “Fuck it, it’s my birthday.” I lost count of how many tequila shots she had, but I’m really dumbfounded at how she made it past midnight.

I think last night we realized how not classy, groomed, or rich we were. (As if we didn’t already know that.) Let me give you some examples:

Example #1

We played dress up and had dessert at this place called Tiny Box Wood in River Oaks that Kounthear’s brother works at. He makes amazing desserts there. However, things are pricey. So pricey in fact, that the menus don’t even have prices on them…probably because the people that go don’t really need to worry about that kind of thing. So there we were, enjoying ourselves amongst the River Oaks yuppies. The waiter brings out our wine and fucking picks ME to do that thing where you swish the wine in the glass around, smell/taste it to see if you “like it”. Dude, really, I don’t know. The wine I buy is a step up from Boonsfarms. I had no idea what I was doing. I just stared at him like a deer in the headlights. “You want me to do what? With my palette? Uh..yeah..I mean..uh…yeah, this is good.” Seriously??? Completely clueless. I felt like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. Minus the hooker part.  That wine bottle ended up costing more than I’d ever even spend on a pair of shoes. Of course, we were totally oblivious to how much this was all going to cost because like I said, there were no prices on the menus. Andddddd then the bill came out. Kounthear and I grabbed it, looked at it—-FUCK. $73. Seventy-three-fucking-dollars. For four girls. This included, two sorbets, chocolate pudding, and some cream cheese mousse thing. The mood DRASTICALLY changed, as we realized how much we didn’t fit in there and how far down the ladder we really were.

Example #2:

In the evening, after Mango’s..we went to Anvil. For those of you who don’t know Anvil, it’s right across the street from Boondocks. The drinks are pricey and fancy, and the crowd has money. I don’t know why we even try to fit in there. We usually just stand around awkwardly, drinkless, occasionally pulling the “Oh let me try that..” to people who can actually afford the drinks. So, what do you do when you can’t afford an $8 drink? You shotgun PBR tall boys in the bathroom.

(And you cut your lip doing it because maybe you’re not very classy, but shotgunning beers isn’t really your thing. We’re at least whiskey and coke girls. Come on now.)

Today, Lil came up to me and was like, “Oh man last night was so funny…we shotgunned beers in the bathroom of Anvil. Were you there?” I just looked at her. YES LIL, I WAS THERE YOU DRUNK.

Anyway, I’m okay with not having money most of the time. I’m happy, and I have my friends and good times.

I LOVE YOU LILLIAN, I HOPE YOU HAD FUN DURING THE PART OF YOUR BIRTHDAY THAT YOU REMEMBER.

Sidenote: I will now be staying at Dylan’s house until July 1st. With my own room! And a bed! Thank you, Dylan Hickey. You’re my hero.