So I was a little swoony to get an email from Monica Danna (an Editor at the Houstonist) encouraging me to go to a swanky New Years Eve party that she would be attending. Monica Danna is awesome and unintentionally intimidating in her glossy hipness. Remember that socialite that Marge Simpson went to high school with who didn’t know how to pump her own gas because she was that damn chic and she wrongly believes Marge is also chic because Marge is wearing that Chanel suit that she bought on sale at the outlet mall in Ogdenville and Marge has to keep ripping up the suit and re-sewing it to make it look like a new outfit or else the country club chicks will catch on that she’s a big fraud who shops at Ogdenville? That pretty much describes me and Monica Danna except that I shop at “Ross Dress 4 Less” and Monica Danna probably knows how to pump gas.
So anyway, I immediately start wondering how I could dress up the black dress I bought for Victor’s gramma’s Christmas burial since it’s about the fanciest thing I have and I begin studying the invitiation for clues as to whether I need to borrow a top hat and a monocle for my husband and I then notice this picture of this woman on the invitation:
The woman appears to be waking out of a drunken stupor to find herself on the floor with deflated balloons and streamers on her, and she also seems to have misplaced all of her clothes. So I’m thinking, “Well. Maybe I will fit in after all.” But then I look even closer and see that it’s $205 A COUPLE. Oh, I can get stoned, embarrassed and naked in my own home for a lot less than that, thankyouverymuch. For $205 I expect to come home with furniture or at least a blackmarket baby panda.
So instead of hob-nobbing with the chic and fabulous, I’ll be spending my New Year’s Eve sneaking Strawberry Hill into the Cinemark so I can watch, sing along with, and possibly get kicked out of “Sweeney Todd”.
PS. When I say “stoned” I mean it in the old-fashioned “drunk-as-a-skunk” sort of way, not in a “It’s-4:20-and-time-to-get-high” kind of way so please don’t call me at 2am for weed. I’m someone’s mother, not your drug connection.
PPS. No one tell Monica Danna I’m a fraud, ‘k?
PPPPS. Two posts in one day. I am on fire.