Bringing Baskets Back

Its offcial: I don't know how to come home for the weekend and NOT make a scene. But this weekend might top all, as Im still hungover 36 hours later, and my mother has banned me from returning this coming weekend.

Last weekend, my mom asked me to come home, box up my room, and help organize things for our upcoming move. I obliged, figuring I'd take it easy Friday night, wake up and help out on Saturday, and then go out for the night with some friends. So after getting into Philly on Friday, I went out with my parents and grandmother for a nice relaxing dinner. We ordered a little wine and had a long, talkative dinner. It was a really nice time and a lot of fun. Afterwards, I was ready to go home, curl up and watch a movie, and go to bed, but my dad, having had a few and starting to feel sociable, insited we stop at my Aunt Donna's house. Three glasses of their homemade wine later, I was surpisingly wasted. Not drunk, WASTED. The next day I was so hungover that it was entirely impossible for me to do any work. To be fair, though, it wasnt really my fault as I was poisoned by this deceptive vino. That night I was going to stay in, but at the last minute recovered and decided to meet up with some friends. 7:30 the next morning, my Mom found me and my friend Meg drinking beers and ordering Umbro shorts online (don't ask). I ended up sleeping until 2:30 that day, and didn't get a single thing done like I promised.

Which is why I returned this weekend, to do the work I should have before. I went to bed early Friday night and got my whole room boxed up the next day. Feeling somewhat accomplished, I was ready to go out and see my friends. Since it was one of those one-in-a-million nights when my parents had somewhere to go on a Saturday night, I had no one to make me dinner, and therefore decided to go out for my meal. I recruited my friend Chris to join me, and we had a lovely little date at Fatty's, even though he pretty much berated me the entire time for ordering a veggie burger. We planned to go to Towey's afterwards, where its always a safe bet you'll run into someone you know, but were surprised by the news that a chunk of our friends were going into Manayunk for my friend Meg's bday celebration. So with 90% of our ten friends going there, we had nothing to do but jump on the bandwagon.

We hungout at Flat Rocks for awhile, a great experience since I had never been. Its a pretty simple bar, but is distinguished for having several dozen different types of exotic beers. I found this impressive, but it didnt stop me from ordering a Coors Light, or for getting mad when I was told they didnt have it. Somehow, though, I got over the loss and moved on, and I even warmed up enough to take several hundred pictures with Meg and her ugly neon green glasses. I think her goal to have everyone take a picture in them was met beyond her wildest dreams.

After Flat Rocks we ofcourse did what we always do-- An after-party at my house. I was somewhat reluctant at first, but since my parents only told me not to party until morning again, I figured that didnt include a late night that ended just shortly before. A bunch of people came back, and we all acted like the degenerates we are. I can remember looking at pictures of my parents from the 70s and seeing the wierdest things- hat parties, guys in drag, my Uncle Vince- it was all strange stuff. But as I was taking the basket off my head to start making a fort out of the 2 dozen empty boxes in our kitchen, it suddenly hit me that I have topped them in bizarre drunken behavior. It wasn't an easy task, but somehow it was done.

We had a long, wild party, but we managed to end things before dawn as I had promised. However, when I awoke later that day, my parents were not thrilled. Despite my expectations, they did not enjoy the fort I had built, and the random articles of clothing they found lying around concerned them greatly. This is why, my friends, I'm not allowed home next weekend if ever again. My parents officially hate me, and are ashamed to have me as their daughter. Its a tough fact to accept but, ya know what, it was still worth it.