They're Never Going To Call Again

Gilberto, Gabi and I ventured downtown last night to meet up with some friends for dinner who are in town, that we haven't seen for a while. Actually, not since their wedding in Colorado last September (in which Gabi was their flower girl, and managed to get into all of their cake cutting pictures).

All I can think about was how dorky I was with my missing brain filter.

You know what I'm talking about. Most people are blessed with a filter in the brain that holds back inappropriate comments until they've had time to properly formulate them and/or not use them. Yeah, I don't have that.

And it gets worse when I want to appear to be all cool and likable and witty. The filter just starts dumping stuff out of my mouth and I end up looking like the biggest one woman freak show ever.

Last night I was on a roll. I do believe I even threw out the word cocaine in the middle of what was, up to that point, a perfectly normal part of the conversation.

I didn't even need a single drop of alcohol to help things along. Though one sip is really all it takes anymore. Seriously, one sip and my nose goes numb. You really have to build up your tolerance after you haven't had anything after being pregnant for nine months plus nursing. I just haven't had the time?

Our friends even wanted to order a bottle of wine, and must've saw the deer caught in headlights look I gave to Gilberto, immediately thinking ahead to him having to carry me passed out drunk as a skunk to the car, and quickly thought better of it. We all had a lovely round of soda instead.

And to top it all off, when our friends thought desert might be nice, I said, "Oh! It's a tough choice, but I'd rather have more of my turkey!" And that idea was squelched. I think you're supposed to say yes, you'd love some desert, because otherwise no one else will feel comfortable getting it. So even if you don't want any, and would rather eat more bacon wrapped turkey, it's best to go with desert. They probably went out for pie or ice cream afterwards.

We are so going to be the friends that they have to keep their vacations from. Some day they'll be all, remember that trip to San Diego in 2009? Wasn't that so great? And we'll be all, hey, I don't remember you being here in 2009?