Archive for August 4th, 2008

I was thinking recently about things I wouldn’t talk about at a cocktail party.

  • I was actually at a cocktail party once and there was music playing and suddenly “Groovy Kind of Love” started playing and I started laughing, unable to explain. I literally had to hold my breath to stop. The last time I had heard the song was a long long time ago when I was in bed with a significant other and we were listening to music and well, in the middle of “things”, “Groovy Kind of Love” started playing. And we both lost it, there in the middle of intimacy, we lost it and couldn’t stop laughing. There is nothing better than that. I would never have brought it up at the party.
  • I would never discuss farting at a cocktail party.
  • Nor would I relate the song my girls made up a few years ago…Red had heard the word “penis”, she knew it was a slightly private word, but didn’t exactly get what it was. I heard the girls singing in the tub one night and went to listen. They’d made up a “penis song”. It was nothing but the word “penis”, over and over again to the “I’m a Little Teapot” tune. It was then that they got a lesson of the boy/girl anatomy.
  • Some people say to keep religion and politics out of conversations, which I would add “to rule them out at cocktail parties”. In that, I would also like to say, “don’t talk about therapy” either. I have never tried nor do I want to. But I just thought maybe it wouldn’t be a good idea.

Now, some things I have said at cocktail parties

  • “I think I may have forgotten my deodorant. Do you think you could smell me and let me know if everything is okay?”
  • I actually found myself in a conversation with a woman my mother’s age, who was reveling in that she found Victoria’s Secret to be her “Disneyland”. We discussed bra types, underwear fabric, as well as the procedure in which a woman goes through to buy bras and underwear there. How graceful and easy the process is. Yet, how pricey, but worth it. And then, this woman pulled the front of her dress down so I could see the strap of her newest bra. And then she pulled it further to show the middle section between her breasts, so I could see the under wire and the color of the bra. May I remind you, this was at a cocktail party.
  • I was at a party last Spring. It was one of those days where it was humid but overcast and sometimes cool but sometimes muggy-hot. So I wore some wool pants and a cute sweater thing. I found myself standing next to my friends’ sister who is a professional dancer for a professional basketball team. So, I am standing there and she is dressed to the nines, beautiful, calm, collected, gorgeous, wearing a silk shirt and strappy sandals and some well fitting white slacks, her hair all done up and makeup perfect. And I was standing there feeling completely miserable. In front of about eight of us in the group at the time, I turned to her and said “Standing next to you, I just feel all sweaty and frumpy, it kind of sucks.”  I was talking to a girlfriend recently who reminds me often of my comment and said that whenever she and her husband are out and they see a gorgeous woman, he turns to her and says “honey, do you feel frumpy and sweaty right now?”

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