HELLO! Lauren here! Fresh off from a weekend of over-indulging in everything from lard to vodka and using St. Patrick’s day as an excuse, Heather and I feel that this week’s topic is perfect for the occasion.

Since the invention of the telephone, it has long been a struggle with the male population to receive consistent and sincere phone calls before 1am. Us ladies don’t often get called, BUT our BOOTY does. That damn booty, it gets called all the time. The boys love it.

Ladies, I really mean this when I say it.. this is a hard one to write. Excuse me, while I grab my gallon of ice cream and bag of corn chips for a sweet/salty combo. Okay, I’m going for it:

It was my birthday party. I had been dating this one guy who was totally done with me as told by my gut feeling as well as by other various red flags. But, he showed up, acting distant and weird. Of course, as I continued to drink, I expressed this to some of my girlfriends at the party.

Let’s rewind for just a second. My girlfriend, who was advocate of getting rid of my current guy, informed me that she was bringing me a birthday present in the form of a hot man that happened to be her brother. Whatever, females always think their siblings are more attractive than they are.

Okay, jumping back to the story – while I felt sorry for myself and gossiped about Boy #1 to some of my friends, in walks my girlfriend who grabs me, says “Happy Birthday,” then thrusts me toward a 6’4″ Greek God structure that made form into a human being. God help me. This guy was beautiful and for the time being, my breaking heart was cured, but as I circulated and drank more throughout the party, I fell back into the typical girl loves boy who doesn’t give a crap about her mentality. Boy #1 left with my heart in his hand and as people left – I found my way home.. ALONE.

I was actually pretty sober. I got home, put on my pink flamingo Christmas pj’s (picture matching pants and shirt adored with pink flamingos perched next to little trailer homes covered in Christmas lights) I had gotten that year (It is Taylor Tradition that we receive themed pj’s for each holiday even though two of us are in our 30′s), took off my makeup and began to eat ice cream. Half of my mascara had melted down my face during the washing, but I didn’t care – it was just me.

I shortly got a call from my two girlfriends, one of which who had the hot brother. They informed me that he had been asking about me and wanted to see me. I immediately said no. They then informed me that they had sent him in a cab over to my place and he should be there any minute. CRAP!! Okay, don’t panic, door man will call you. You have time to throw on some makeup and put on cute sweats. Knock, knock, knock. The damn doorman let this guy through! Well, he was mesmerizing so I could understand why. High five to me.

I stood there, walked to the door in horror, opened it and said, “You’re from FL, right? I have on flamingo pajamas – Tis the season?” He immediately started laughing while I buried my face in my hands. He then went on, “I take it you’ve been eating ice cream?” When I looked in the mirror, I discovered cookie dough ice cream all around my mouth which had then dripped down the front of me. But, he stayed.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

This entry was posted on Monday, March 16th, 2009 at 10:57 am and is filed under Booty Call, Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.