Penis Party Crasher (Slaves to the Beast: Week Two)

A week and a half had passed since the girls came over, so we decided to make it extra special this week and learn how to knit. I mean, we go hard these days y'all.

I have so many very talented friends. And Shannon is no exception. She creates the most amazing pieces of jewelry. She also makes clothes, and lots of crocheted/knitted goodies. I once asked her to make one of those beanie/beard thingies for an ex of mine and she did. She also made my daughter a beanie with two holes in the top for pigtails. It's the cutest thing.

Anyway.... I enlisted her help to come and teach the rest of us how to knit because we had all been talking about it for weeks, nope, months, now.  You know how it is, your friends keep saying, "oh we should do this, or that or blah blah blah and you just keep saying it over and over and it never fucking happens. I sometimes like to take the bull by the horns and just make shit happen, right? So here we are, ladies knit night.  I think about 14 girls RSVP'd they'd come. This translates to about 7 or 8 actually showing up.

Since it's a Wednesday, we decided we'd just stick with wine. Save the cocktails for a weekend.

Wendy was the first guest tonight, but only because I had to go pick her up. She's a younger friend, very much a wandering, love and light, sweet little hippie. I love her because she says whatever the fuck she wants and you soooo wouldn't expect the things she says to come out of that sweet little hippie mouth. She kind of flits through life, you can see the soul inside of her, prancing around with imaginary unicorns, dancing to the beat of her own little hand drum. I dunno, that's what I see when I observe her anyway.  She and I went shopping for some junk food to pig out on later and also stopped at the liquor store where we found some of these guys...

Mmm, cream liquor sperm shots. We're going to have some fun photos with this later.

So anywaaaaay...Fast forward to everyone arriving.

Shannon walked in with her bundles of yarn, knitting needles and a bucket filled with items she made for sale. Honestly, Wendy was the most interested of everyone in learning this new skill, so she and Shannon began training almost immediately. I just sat and enjoyed my wine as other guests showed up.

Stacy, who is pretty much my only mild mannered friend, (so she sticks out like a sore thumb sometimes, but in a good way) waltzed in, dressed in her usual very unique style. I'm not sure where she finds all of the cool clothes she wears, maybe a vintage boutique? I don't know anybody who dresses like her or that can pull off the look the way she does.  I'd tell you what she does for a living, but the girl goes through jobs the way Michelle goes through men, so I have no idea what she's actually doing with her time these days. 

At some point, (speak of the devil herself) Michelle bursts through the door in her typical aggressive fashion. Get ready for the multitude of complaints. I promise you've never heard anyone complain as much as this poor girl. My meaner friends like to call her names behind her back. The two most common being, "Eeyore" and "Debbie Downer."

Mardi and Monica enter together, weighed down by fun dress up items and bottles of wine. 

As several of my friends struggle to learn how to knit, there are many discussions about men, relationships, other girlfriends, general gossip, etc. There was a bit of a tiff that ruffled the evening for a moment. It wasn't going to be the last one.

Monica: So, Michelle. Have you had any good sides lately?

Michelle; (turns to Mardi) What? You told everybody about that?

Mardi: You look angry.

Michelle stormed outside, I'm guessing for a smoke and Mardi went after her. They slipped back in about 30 minutes later, Michelle looking a little more forgiving than she did when she charged out earlier.

And finally, at some point later when everyone was too inebriated to attempt to learn knitting, Shannon pulled out her goods for sale and everyone excitedly rifled through it all and made purchases. It's always best to ask for the sale once booze is involved. That's just good business.

After that, we made appetizers and sat around stuffing our pieholes with junk food and that's about when Nadia invaded the party. I always think of Nadia that way, she's a tall fiery redhead and you can't help but notice the very second she appears within 2 miles of a gathering. She's also almost always really late. She and Mardi are very close and often make out for no real reason other than they're "wifeys." Whatever that means. I don't judge. They make a super cute, hetero, "non couple."  They're both party girls, but Nadia happens to be the sensible one. It sounds funny in my head, but when I think about the advice she dispenses to our friends, she's usually quite right.  Mardi, on the other hand, is a hot fucking mess.

We all moved into the living room to play board games, but before we even settled on a game, Shannon divulged that her mother was recently diagnosed with Alzheimer's and so she is moving in to take care of her. It's while we're having this serious discussion that Mardi's boyfriend, David, makes his entrance. He always makes an entrance. And also often crashes Mardi's girl's nights. Many times it doesn't turn out pretty. All the girls enjoy having him around, he's a very charming flirt, and definitely a bad boy and Mardi sometimes has a hard time with it. Tonight would prove to be no different.

David had a bottle of vodka in his hands and proceeded to the kitchen to make drinks for everyone. Okay, so the night is headed in that direction now.  I have a feeling MDMA or blow may come up soon as well, now that he's in attendance. *cringe*

Once everyone is settled in the living area with a drink in hand, Tuesday, who is always, always, always really late, whisks into the room. That's how she does it. She breezes in with her wiley head full of curls and those huge round green eyes and her sensational colorful clothing. 

Tuesday: Hiiiii (she drawls) I'm sorry I'm late.

Me:  (laughing) It's to be expected, let's go make you a drink.

As we strolled into the kitchen, I heard David suggest strip poker. Someone joked they haven't had enough to drink for that. Someone else requested he play for us. Oh funny, he just so happened to have his guitar in the car. (Well actually because he was about to head out of town on tour)

As Tuesday and I reentered the room, Stacy was telling David about Tuesday's beautiful voice. It didn't take any arm twisting to get her to sing for him. If I had a voice like that, you wouldn't have to twist my arm either. This all turned into a dance party, which is a very common occurrence in my living room, whether with friends or with my kids. When David put down his guitar he began dancing with Wendy, who seemed very happy to be receiving his attention, as women typically are. Mardi complained to Nadia and I about all the attention he was raining on the other girls, and Nadia said, "Well at least none of our stripper friends are here."  Voice of reason, that girl.  I turned the music down and proposed we play Cards Against Humanity again since everyone likes it so much. It came up that David had never played it, so he was in for a treat. As always, the game was hysterical and everyone was enjoying themselves. With the exception of Mardi who was glaring over at David and Tuesday, who were snuggling pretty closely. When they started making out in front of everybody, Mardi jumped up and shouted at him. "You're about to leave for 3 weeks, could you JUST NOT???"  Naturally, she went outside to cool off and Nadia followed her to help calm her down.

I then announced that since it was a Wednesday night and most of us had to work early the next day, that it was time to wrap it up and call it a night. David apologized though it wasn't necessary, no one can ever get or stay angry with him. (with the exception of whomever he happens to be in a relationship with at the moment, which is Mardi in this case) There's also the fact that he's obviously not sincere about it. Tuesday went out to tell Mardi that she was sorry, but was she really?  

The last time Mardi and I hung out one on one, she admitted to me that she was having a great deal of trouble with David's ex-wife. They were together for a long time and she wasn't ready to be replaced even though she's the one who left and had a new boyfriend herself.  I did my best to console her, explaining that his ex is ten years younger than us. She couldn't deny that she herself would have behaved the same way ten years ago. And the shit storm his poor ex went through, well, that's a story or two for another day. 

The thing about David is that he comes across as sexy and confident at first. The way he will stare into your eyes like there's no one else in the room. I've known guys like him before. If you learn to catch on sooner than later and you pay close attention, you'll see the insecure little boy inside, who constantly seeks joy and craves pleasure, but has no clue how to feel happiness. 

The soul of a narcissist 

is as 

black 

as the heart that feeds off it

Living in a land of Make-Believe

He hides behind delusions he created

to protect his fragile ego

Putting himself high on a pedestal

Above all else

Perfect he finds himself to be

yet unable to love his own self

He denies his loneliness

His saving grace is

blissful unawareness 

Of his own insecurities

Numbing him from pain

that he refuses to know exists.

Yes, many of us have or will experience at least one man like this in our lives. A man who feeds on the attention of women - needs it to survive his own ego. 

His madness drives him to succeed

His creativity comes from darkness inside his soul

Meanwhile

collecting hearts

and destroying them

In the hopes of healing his own self-inflicted 

pain.

Mardi is pretty much like all of my friends I've witnessed in an open relationship.  She seems to delude herself into believing her life is just dandy, while we see her constantly anxious and miserable. She claims the highs are worth the lows - but I have to wonder...

Are they?

You came into this world

Destined to become a monster

You were born

With a frown on your soul

Your imaginary wounds

They hardened your heart

You prey on the innocent

The bats inside of you

Feed on their spirits

And

Rip apart their insides

until they are broken

Just like you.

After everyone left, I made a mental note to make sure to start enforcing the "no dudes allowed" rule for girl's night. I then happily climbed into bed with my 3 cats.

Well For Starters.... (Slaves to the Beast: Week One)

Hi. My name is Cybil. I'm a 40 year old single mom and a self proclaimed crazy cat lady.
In plain language, I'm a work-from-home hermit, incessant petter of 3 cats, and I live vicariously through my circle of girlfriends. They visit and entertain me weekly, with their ghastly and intriguing dating/relationship tales. Sometimes they'll come over on a week night and we'll have cocktails and junk food. Other times, they'll visit on Saturday afternoon and we'll hang outside and drink wine. I'll introduce you to a few of them right now.  This week, the ones that made it, came for Sunday brunch. I was lazy this time, instead of cooking, I ran down the street and grabbed a bag of breakfast tacos. And then I made mimosas with cranberry juice and spiked the coffee.

I suppose I'll start with my favorite, the lovely, talented, oustpoken 38 year old, Mardi. I love my MardiPants because she's everything I wish I could be. I don't wish for her life though. She lives on a non-stop emotional rollercoaster, dating a traveling musician with whom she happens to be in an open relationship with. AND she takes care of his pre-teenage children. But if I could just have all the fun sex that she does, and move my hips like hers, well, maybe I'd be apt to leave the house once in awhile.

Then there's Neri. I fucking adore this woman because she's not afraid to speak her truths. Especially her mom truths. Being a mom is super hard and we all experience frustrations and even resentments for the exhausting job of "momming." What is "momming" you ask?

Momming - (verb) to basically be in charge of everything. in charge of delegating, doing, performing, and worst of all, remembering every fucking task for every single human thingie in your household. 

Neri is a 41 year old, strong woman, that works very hard on her own career, in addition to, momming two preteen BOYS. And manages to keep a marriage together on top of that?  My energy is depleted just thinking about everything she has to do.  God, I barely have patience for my kids, there's no way I could spare attention for a man too. Being a single mom really isn't that bad. Especially if you have cats. Just sayin.

And next. Oh my, what to say about Diana? omg as I tell you about these ladies, my heart just wells up with so much fondness. Diana is a 49 year old neurotic New Yorker. She's divorced and doing the online dating thing. I could write a book just on her Tinder nightmare stories alone. Each man a bigger disappointment than the one before. I guess with her kids out of the house and no cats, what else is she gonna do in her free time?  Might as well undertake the daunting, nearly impossible, task of finding a good man in this town.  She and I met through our daughters when they were freshman in high school. Sometimes we're lucky enough to have the 20 something year olds around, captivating us with their many misadventures. You'll see.  Youuuuuu'll seeeeee.

My friend Samantha is fun. She's a 30 year old lipstick lesbian and the youngest one here today. Tinder has proven to be an unsuccessful way to meet ladies too. Apparently after one date, women are just ready to move in. How dare you try to get to know a few señoritas before considering "settling down" with one of them. I mean, really.  

Seriously though, Sam is incredibly intelligent and gorgeous. She manages one of the upper class restaurants in town, so she works too goddamn much. Personally, I think she should just get a bunch of cats, and call it a day.  

And finally, the last one to show up to this particular gathering, is Monica. I'll just let you get to know her on your own. All I'll say about 41 year old Mon at this point is, she has NO filter. I mean, most of us don't. But she seems to take it just a step or two farther at times...Oh, and she has lots of cats.

The first to arrive was Diana. She swept in, dressed elegantly sophisticated as usual, and in her typical frenzied manner, with a bottle of expensive champagne in her beautifully manicured hands.

"Am I late? I had to drive Stacy to work and one of my Tinder guys called and went on and on about his fishing trip, which I don't even think he really went fishing, but I'll get to that part in a bit. Anyway, I stopped off to get champagne and there was this cute little boutique next door, and I thought well I'll just stop in for a moment and see what they got going on in there. So I asked the boutique owner about this adorable little blouse and she just wouldn't shut up about the wholesale people she ordered it from. I'm like, lady do you ever stop talking? Meanwhile I keep checking my phone thinking I'm going to be sooooooooo late for girl time and.."

She looks around and asks incredulously, "Am I the only one here?" 

I said, "Oh good, you took a breath," as I laughed. "Please girl, just relax. Have some tacos, I'll go mix this with some cranberry juice. Everyone else is late.  As always. Have you ever known anything to start on time around here? You're not in New York anymore, Dorothy. No need to rush."

At that moment, in breezed Mardi with all of her belly dance props. She always brings her wings, silk fans and veils and jingly hip scarves for the ladies to  enjoy. We love to dance around with them, pretending we're young, skinny, exotic belly dancing sirens. I mean, in our own way, we kind of all are.  

As I went to close the door, Mardi said, "Oh don't shut it, Cybil, Neri pulled up right behind me."

Sure enough, in barges a frustrated looking Neri. 

"Oh man, if my boys could just GET IT TOGETHER. Just ONCE."

I told her, "you're fine, everyone is just now getting here! What happened?"

Neri looked around the room, wide eyed and exclaimed, "I mean, I'll just say ONE word. The moms in here will know what I mean when I say, 'homework.'  I'll do you even one better and throw in, 'project.'"

I shook my head.  "Say no more. I feel ya. Somebody waited until the last minute, huh?"

"Kaden decides to inform me THIS MORNING that he needs 12 items to complete a project that is due tomorrow that he's known about for TWO weeks. He expects me to go run around on a Sunday afternoon, my day off, to find all this crap for him. I feel like a horrible mother but I'm telling you, I don't want to do that. I'd really like to just relax and let him deal with the consequences tomorrow."

Mardi: "Girl, do it. Fuck that, there's no way I'd give in to that. My step kids try to pull that shit on me all the time. They'll learn eventually. It's their responsibility to relay important information like that in a timely manner. And why do pre-teen boys like to wait until the last possible minute to do a project that is going to take several hours?"

Diana: "I'm soooooooooo glad my kids are out of the house."

I handed Neri a mimosa. "Here sit, take a load off. You are most certainly not a horrible mother. You are one of the most awesome moms I know. None of us have patience for our children's bullshit. That's why therapy was invented. For us losing our minds and for our kids having to witness it.  Just save up for his very expensive bill from the therapist that will inevitably come after you narrowly escape strangling him a few times."

Sam then walked in looking a little dejected. She said, "Well, Lisa broke up with me too."

We all gave her our condolences and asked what happened.

"Same thing as Katie. She can't handle me dating other women.  I'm just really ready to give up on this dating thing."

Diana:  "Aren't we all?!"

Sam:  "Why what happened with you?"

Diana:  "What HASN'T happened?  I'm dating men, they're all awful." She looked at me. "Remember when I mentioned the fishing trip?"

Me: "That was like, 5 seconds ago, yeah."

Diana:  "Okay, well when Mike left the morning of his "supposed" fishing trip, he was acting very strange. I just had this weird feeling he was lying about something and he was nervous and fidgety. While he was gone, for 3 days mind you, he didn't call once and barely texted me. He did however, send me a picture of a bucket of fish. BUT, when I was shuffling through pictures he was tagged in on facebook, I came across a photo that had a bucket of fish in it and it looks an awful lot like the one in the pic he sent me."

Neri:  "Okay, what's the problem?"

Diana: "The PROBLEM is, he was tagged in this picture A YEAR AGO."

Mardi:  "Oh DAAAAAAAAANG."

Me: "Holy Shit."

Diana:  "RIGHT??"

Neri:  "That's definitely not good."

Sam:  "Okay, you win this round."

Diana:  "Whatever, I'm over it. I'm going to confront him and then I'm going to dump him. I have another date Wednesday night with this super cute realtor. He must sell nice homes because he can afford to live in Steiner Ranch. Oh and he's SOOOOO funny. Mike who??"

Several of us chuckled. 

Mardi: "Who else is coming?"

Me:  "Who knows really, everybody always says they're coming and then less than half show up. But I think for sure Monica is coming. And Lettie said she was too, but you know what a flake she is."

Mardi: "Well okay, I'm going to go ahead and tell y'all about the 23 year old I banged last night."

Diana screeched, "WHAT?!"

Mardi:  "Well I didn't KNOW he was only 23. Oh wait shit, he's actually 22. I found out this morning when he sent me an invite to his 23rd birthday party."

Neri:  "How'd you meet him?"

Mardi: "I friended him on facebook because his comments were funny. We've been facebook friends for a few weeks and last night I got really drunk all by myself and I facebooked him to come over."

Sam:  "Wait, you've never met him and you just invited him to come to your house? Where was David?"

Mardi:  "He's out of town as usual. I'm sure he had an 18 year old in his hotel room last night. So yeah, I messaged him to come over and he replied that he was DJ'ing and would come after. I'm like, okay I'll likely be asleep by 1-2 in the morning, so I'll leave the key under the mat, just come upstairs."

Diana: "And he did?"

Mardi: "Yup, sure did.  Holy fuck, it was soooo exciting. I was actually semi awake when I heard him drive up. So I just laid in bed pretending to be asleep as he walked up the stairs. Seriously guys, it was so fun."

Neri:  "I can't believe you did that! What if he was a psychopath?"

Mardi: "Calm down, y'all, he and I have quite a few mutual friends.  He's not a COMPLETE stranger."

Just then, Monica burst through the door while yelling at someone outside.

"HEY!  Don't!"

She then walked back outside and we followed her.

"HEY FUCKTARD, GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY CAR!!"

She stormed toward some kid who was innocently walking by with a skateboard in his arms. 

"Hey lady, I'm not touching your car."

"See that you don't, you little asshat."

She stood there watching him walk away and when he was far enough away, she turned back towards us, and saw our gaping mouths. 

"What? I swear he looked like he was going straight for my car, the second I turned my back to walk in here!"

Mardi:  "Okay girl, you need a drank."

Me:  "Let's go hang out in the backyard and annoy my neighbors."

"I don't understand how those poor people haven't moved away from you yet," Neri said laughing.

Me:  "Oh I'm sure they find us quite entertaining, even if a little annoying."

We all walked single file out into my huge backyard and sat down on the lovely outdoor furniture that one of my exes built for me. Sam and Diana each grabbed wings and silk veils, and began dancing around the yard. Mardi started putting noisy hip scarves on all of us and snapping photos for facebook and instagram.  Neri requested that she contact some other belly dancers about possibly ordering costumes from her. Neri is a very talented costume/headdress maker.  I don't understand how she has the time and/or patience to painstakingly make so many beautiful things. Sometimes I wish I could afford to have a closet full of her sparkly outfits and feather headpieces to play around in. But then I think, where the fuck would I wear any of it?  I don't ever go anywhere. I'm a writer. I prefer my alone time. 

Monica turned toward me with a pipe loaded with weed.  She took a hit and exhaled in my face:  "So what's up with your friend, Michelle?"

Me:  "Oh man, she's a hot mess that one. Tinder is pretty much fucking up all of my friends. But Michelle, well most of Michelle's Tinder nightmares are caused by her. She's like Seinfeld, finds the stupidest little thing wrong with EVERY single guy she meets on there.  One dude invited her for dinner, he was going to grill some chicken for her. She asked him what sides he was going to have and he said, "sides? Do we need those?" She completely flipped out about this. She was like, Cybil who the fuck doesn't have sides? I'm like, well why don't you offer to bring a side dish? She said, "No way, he offered to cook, he should have sides! He told me, 'well I have broccoli.' Fuck that. I'm cancelling."  Yeahhhhh, she's just not over her ex who lives 1000 miles away. Seven years later.  So she's not speaking to me because I totally told her she was overreacting and she just can't handle the truth, man."

Monica:  "WOW."

Neri:  "Well she's younger than us, she'll get there."

We all began observing Diana, Mardi and Sam dancing around the yard. Sam then dropped her wings and attempted to climb the ropes on my tree swing. That's a good 12 feet of rope. She got about halfway up before she commenced sliding back down. She said, "How do the guys make it all the way up there?"

Monica:  "Because they're stronger, you dumbass."  She walked over and handed the pipe to Sam.

At that moment, our heads turned to the neighbor's lawn.  A mower had just powered up and standing there next to it, was a very, very fine specimen of a man. Okay, a boy, really. He then slowly removed his shirt, like a scene out of a movie and as though he knew we were all paying very close attention. Okay, a MAN. Wow. No but really, he couldn't have been more than 19. But god, that manly six pack. Ow Ow OW.

Mardi: "Are anyone else's panties all wet?"

Diana was pretty tipsy by this point. We all knew what she was about to do. It happens every. single. time. And we love her for it.  She pranced over to the fence, batting her eyelashes. "Hiiiii" she drawled.  "You look hot, are you thirsty? We can get you something to drink."

Hot Guy #1 (Oh yes they'll be plenty more of those in this series.  I mean, sometimes we order takeout or I need plumbing fixed, etc.) Anyway, he said, "Yes ma'am, it's sunny out, totally a warm day. I'm not thirsty, but thank you."

Diana: (as we witnessed in amused anticipation) "Come over here, I need to get a photo with you. I'm going to send it to my daughter, she's a hottie. She'll love this." 

She turned towards us, "Hey Mardi, come take our picture."

As Hot Guy #1 strutted through the gate, Mardi says, "No way, I'm getting in this shot too. Here Mon, take our picture," as she handed her phone to over to Monica.

Monica (laughing) "Wow, cougars much?"

Monica snapped a few photos while Mardi and Diana's hands were all over the poor boy's chest. Naturally they had to get the token 'each kissing one of his cheeks' shots in there. Which Mardi immediately uploaded to Instagram. Neri and I are just shook our heads, the only 2 semi-sober ones in the bunch. So far.

Sam:  "Um, your neighbor is staring out the window."

Hot Guy #1: (as he climbed his way out of the cougar grips, but flashing a flattered grin) "Yeah, I better get back over there.  You ladies have a nice afternoon."

Everyone was silent as we stared, watching him saunter back through the gate. Holy shit, what a tight ass.  I mean, a small mob of tipsy 30-40 something year old women....obviously, this was going to be the highlight of our day.

At that point, we began trading love/relationship/dating stories (I even have a few I'll get to another day) and continued to gossip about our girlfriends that didn't come today. That's what happens when you don't show up. We get to share your personal information (that you would wind up drunkingly sharing with all of us anyway) and hope we got it (mostly) accurate.  

At some point during the drunken excited chatter, Monica noticed that a member of our clan had been missing for some time.

Monica:  "Where'd Mardi go?"

Sam: "I'll go find her."

Diana, Monica, Neri and I pulled out Cards Against Humanity and started playing without them. 

I think my favorite round was when Monica drew the black card "________, kid tested, mother-approved." I believe the 3 white cards said, "Man Meat" "Elderly Japanese men" and "A Super Soaker full of cat pee".  How does one choose easily in such a situation?

Now, before I continue, you should know that there are 3 stages of inebriation for ladies like us.

First, there's stage 1. Tipsy. During this stage, everyone has a little buzz and babbles loudly and animatedly about what the fuck ever.

Next, you have stage 2. Drunk. You begin saying things that you may or may not remember, and definitely wouldn't have said had you not been intoxicated.

Lastly, stage 3. There are several names for this stage. Sloshed, smashed, trashed, wasted, faded, tanked, plastered, just to name a few. You're slurring, you most certainly won't remember anything said after this point. Most of us aren't going to be driving anywhere without a nap first.

Remember these stages, they will be a reoccurring theme in our weekly gatherings.

I believe we had gotten to the point, (it's hard to remember now) where we just couldn't focus enough to play anymore. Diana hobbled inside to pee. Monica was as high as a kite, lying on the ground staring up at the trees and barely making any sense. Neri and I are the kind of friends who can talk for hours and not even realize half the day has disappeared, kind of like my husband did when I told him I was pregnant.  But that's a story for another day. So many stories left to tell you. About all of us and a few others you haven't met yet.  Time will tell these stories. And the secrets. I hope I live to tell them all just as Madonna does.

So anyway. 2 hours later, we realized Mon was asleep on the ground. We woke her and collected the game, dancing gear and wine bottles and headed back inside where we found Sam, as usual, passed out on the sofa.  Mardi and Diana were snoring in the guest room. This is also typical of them. Lightweights. We shared a great deal today. As we do every time we waste time together.  Soon, I'll share it all with you. You'll learn the crosses each of these women have had to bear. You'll learn what amazing, kind and generous women they are. And you will love, respect and admire all of these women as much as I do.