Regular Ladies

I was invited to attend a cookie exchange.  I've never been invited to one before so i eagerly accepted..

"how does it work?" I asked.

"ok, well, you bring about 5 dozen cookies, and then you trade them for other cookies, and my mom makes food, and oh yeah bring an ornament to exchange too.  Nothing expensive, it can be pretty or something you want to get rid of,"

"Ok! I got it!"

This is a moment I'd been waiting for--becoming a regular lady.  Regular ladies go to cookie exchanges. I do not.  Seeing that I don't know any regular ladies, no one invites me, because the women I know, don't do regular things.

People who know me found it shocking that I had never been invited before--because I am a pastry chef and I can make cookies, but then they say, "Oh maybe they are intimidated by you and your cookies so they don't invite  you."

That's just silly.  "I don't get invited because I do not act like a regular lady,"

"what do you act like?"

"....Mmmm, more like a whore."

However, through the loop hole my friend invited me to her mother's exchange.  And considering that her mother never met me before, she had no idea she should say no.

I made honey cookies, italian wedding cookies, butterscotch brownies, and sweet potato cookies.  and I was going to bring the flask of scotch, but I thought, "No, don't.  Regular ladies don't carry a flask.  Just drink what ever they have and don't try to help them drink from your purse."

The thing is, I've never been part of a group of women friends.  Even my sisters don't invite me to do stuff with them.  Is it me? Am I the problem?

Probably--I'm sure.  I fail to fit in all the time. 

The closest I've ever come to fitting in and being accepted by a gruoup of people is at the theater--where I seem like the most regular normal woman that ever fell from a womb. A theater is full of freaks. Myself included.  I'm a freak in that I find freaks and wierdos to be perfectly acceptable company..which, often freaks out the freaks.

but I was determinded to be successful at cookie exchange.  So I wore something nice.  jeans and a sweater and anniversery jewelry because that's what regular ladies wear, right? I didn't want stick out.

Not 5 minutes in the door I almost died.  literally.

My friend made these pretzles and said, "try them they are sooooo good,"

So, I tried one bite, asked what was in it, heard it was dill  my throat started to swell up.  I'm allergic to dill.

SO, her mom --who is like an expert at being regular and normal, gave me a benedryl so I could stay at the party and not have one of my freak  theater friends poke a hole in my throat with a bic pen as he was planning to do.

the ladies all flock to the basement family room--something ladies seem to instinctlvely know about.  I needed to be escorted.

and since we brought ornaments alll wrapped like presents, we get to gather around the pool table where the cookies are placed so we can pass the ornament until the music stopps and then if we are holding it, have to keep the ornament.

That sounds like fun.

Jane and I gather at the table.

"what do we do?" she whispers to me.

"How the hell do I know, Jane, I'm not a regular lady any more than you are." and I looked around, and we looked like cartoon cut outs next to the regular ladies.  We have tooo much makeup on for the family room, and too much non -holiday related clothing.  we don't fit in.

and the music starts, and the prize goes around and the music stops and the prize gets opened and all the ladies ohh and ahh over a christmas ornament which I would not pay attention to otherwise.  How ever!  what I realize immediately, is that I have horribly misunderstood the game.--These ladies are in it for the swag--not for the fun.

Being that I am not regular, and I don't care for things like candles, fingertip towles, home decor, or nicknacks--but rather I care about socializing, fun and interesting conversations--if I noitce something decorating your home it probably is so odd, or original we just have to discuss it.  So...I cringe as my ornament goes around.

"what is it!" my friend who invited me asked.

"It's star wars!" I siad with horror at how badly I've messed up being a regular lady.

She almost wet her pants laughing.

and the music stops and the woman who gets my storm trooper ornament looks at it, looks again and her face drops.  which made my friends laugh harder--Not at her.  but at how badly I've fucked up at being a normal lady.  I thought the game was you either get something good, or get something so bad, it's funny to see what you get...Joke on me.

Regular ladies do not have a sense of humor--especially about christmas decorations.

and I learned they are rude too--not only did she not like my ornament--which I admit would be more desirable if it were the dark lord and not just some recent epsiode storm troopers--she tried to give it away to my friend Charles, right in front of me--by saying, "You're a boy you like star wars," an dplacing it on his arm.

But Charles is the sort of boy who likes zumba, and tap dancing and musicals--he was with me, remember?  Regular ladies don't seem to realize that not all boys like starwars.  charles likes disney princesses.  he gets offended by her behavior and later told me I shoul dhave been offended.  and while I found her behavior to be tasteless--like her holiday sweatshirt,  I was not offended, but rahter I found it all amusing.

and it getts better!

Just then, Megan shows up.  If Jane and I look like cartoon cutouts, Megan looks like a Macy Parade Float that got loose and floated into the family room.  SHe is 6 feet tall and she is wearing 5 inch heels, she ducks into the basement, late, and happnes apon the woman putting the starwars ornament on charles, (who hates it more than she does)  and she offeres to trade her ornament for starwars.

The woman decideds that she would rather leave with Megan's unwrapped homemade plastic and yarn tree ornament than starwars.

and we exchange cookies--not six seconds after getting cookies the regular ladies call it a night--it's 8:45. 

The rest of us stay til midnight, chatting, taking pictures, passing the starwars ornament around, eating too much and playing with the dog.

So perhaps my friends are not regular normal ladies--but they aren't dull.  and our hostess, my friends mother, invited us back saying how glad she was her daughter had some nice friends like us....