Dear Fancy Nancy: Happy Baby Shower! PS: Thank you for not making us play games, especially that gross melted-candy-bar-in-the-diaper one.

One of my best friends is having a baby in October, which is weird for several reasons...one is that I think the whole pregnancy process is just plain weird. Right? I mean, you have this thing inside of you, stealing your nutrients and your energy and growing larger and larger until finally it rips its way out of you and we're all strangely OK with this. Have you ever seen the imprint of a fetus foot in a pregnant woman's belly? That shit is creepy.

(SIDEBAR: I've never actually seen that but I've heard about it. OK, actually, I think that's kind of cool. But still creepy. Hey, things can be creepy and cool at the same time. Case in point: CHRISTOPHER WALKEN I REST MY CASE.)

Two, it's crazy that any of my friends are even allowed to have babies. I've known them too long. I've gotten in too much trouble with them. How are we allowed to be in charge of a tiny baby? I've heard that they're pretty demanding. And, unlike a dog, you can't leave it alone with some food and water for a few hours if you want to go out to dinner. You really have to draw the line at like an hour, tops, and that's barely time to get through the line at Chipotle.

Three, when I'm with my friends, the friends I've had for the past decade, I feel like absolutely no time has passed, and that none of us have changed at all. So we can't be getting married or buying houses or HAVING BABIES because we are 19 years old and yes, I realize that you can do all those things when you're 19 but when we were 19, we weren't thinking about those things, we were thinking about more trivial things, like can you ride a mattress down the stairwell and the answer to that question is YES WE CAN.

Other things you can ride down the stairwell on: an inner tube, a pillow, and a bathroom stall door. Well. That last one makes a better slide, you can't really ride it down the stairs.

But seriously (folks), I feel like we can't have babies because when we're together I feel like I've time traveled to a time when none of us even wanted babies. Or if we did, we figured we'd have them when we were old. You know. Like 25. 

Even though I have all of those reasons none of us can be having babies yet, my friend is pregnant so I guess I'm wrong. THERE'S A FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING, AMIRITE? But you know what? Just because we're "grown ups" now, doesn't mean we have to grow up. In fact, she emailed Heidi and I the other day because she was 69 (heehahaha) days from her due date, and she wondered if she had to stop being immature because soon she's going to be a mom. We told her no, she was absolutely not allowed to stop being immature, both for our sakes and her daughter's.

And to prove my point, for her baby shower I got her (and the baby, I guess) Go the Fuck to Sleep, a That's What She Said onesie, and this:

Why, hello, I am a Wienermobile.

Because no. We never ever have to mature. And we won't. Not if I have anything to say about it and what I have to say about it is POOP BUTT BOOGERFACE.

couple things

• BW3's Wild sauce? Very spicy. Also, makes my tummy hurt. But I'd totally eat it again because OH MY GOD YUM
• I still remember college drinking games
• Heidi made up her own drinking game and it was way better than any other game I've ever played
• My voice is scratchy today from all the yelling and laughing last night
  
• I'm excited to do it all over again tonight

Happy Saturday, Internets. I have to go get ready for a wedding now.

cause you said the brains I had went to my head

I love going over to my friend Nancy's house, and I'll tell you why. Not only does she live in a grown-up house with a zillion rooms (including an office and a fancy dining room and a Wii room and, I don't know, all the other normal rooms), BUT she is always prepared for any event. For instance, just in case you need freshly made popcorn, she has a for-real-honest-to-goodness popcorn machine on her kitchen counter. If you're in need of a frosty beverage, just open her fridge and you'll find everything from Pinot Grigio to PBR. And if Nancy invites you over for hot dogs, don't be surprised when she pulls out all the fixings. It's not just ketchup and mustard at Nancy's house, oh no. It's ketchup and regular mustard and spicy mustard and two kinds of relish and pickles and Skyline chili and Skyline hot sauce and all the shredded cheese you can fit on your wiener (HAHAHAHA).

It's no surprise that Nancy's house is stocked with whatever you need. When I lived next door to her in college, we were always in her room, even though in order to sit anywhere (couch, bed, floor, didn't matter), you'd have to clear off a stack of clutter. But it was worth it, because she always had some new contraption to try, like that time she bought a cotton candy machine. Or that other time she bought a sno-cone maker. Or that other time she bought a popcorn popper. Or that other OTHER time when she bought a deep-fryer.

So of course Nancy's house is the best house ever and now that she's a wife, it's always free of clutter. Heh. Well, at least it is when we come over. Last night, after a delicious dinner of hot dogs, potato salad, and corn on the cob (which I did not partake in, because I don't like getting it stuck in my teeth SHUT UP LEAVE ME ALONE), she made us Bazooka Joe drinks (see?!) and asked if we wanted to play Rock Band. And after playing for, I don't know, a couple hours, we opened the next batch of songs to see that MY LIFE WAS NOW COMPLETE because it included Don't Look Back in Anger. Which I sung. On expert. And still scored 86%. I have no idea how the scoring works for the vocals once you start moving past the Easy setting, but I'm pretty sure my Expert 86% means I'm ready to go on tour. So, Liam. Noel. Call me. We'll talk.

F-O-X

The greatest thing ever happened to me last night. EVER. It was amazing. After $1 burgers and $2 drafts at Bar Louie last night, Nancy dropped a bombshell. I don't remember what we were talking about, but at some point she nonchalanted, "oh, I bought Rock Band."

We were all HOLD THE PHONE (what?). Nancy bought Rock Band? Nancy bought Rock Band. For Wii. Unfortunately, it was still in the box, but once we got to Nancy's, we made quick work of that. The drums are white for Wii Rock Band, unlike the black drums for XBox (is it XBox?) because Wii is racist. Trust me. Just play Rayman and keep your eye out for all the sleeping Mexicans. I wish I was kidding BUT I'M NOT.

Aaaaaaanyway, once the game was set up and I'd put the game disc in the right way (harder than it sounds), the band tour started, with Heidi on bass. At which point this happened, and made me the happiest girl in all the land:

Heidi: It's not working . . . seriously, why isn't it showing that I hit the right color?
Me: Is the guitar on?
Heidi: Yeah!
Me: I dunno then.
Heidi: IT'S NOT WORKING. WHAT THE HELL? ARRRRRRG!
Nancy: That's weird.
Heidi: I'm hitting the right color, WHY ISN'T IT SHOWING THAT I HIT IT?
Nancy: Um, are you strumming?
Heidi: . . . no?
All: BWAAHAAHAAHAAAA!

Seriously, you guys, I don't think I've ever laughed so hard EVER EVER IN MY LIFE. Ahem. I love you, Heidi.

This morning, when I left for work, I looked in the little patch of grass next to our steps and noticed something odd. Two 40s hanging out together, because apparently I'm back at Wittenberg. I think some college kids moved into the apartment next to us. This annoys me. Now that I'm not longer in college, I find most college students and the activities they participate in to be extremely annoying. I'm all, "you kids get off my lawn!" You know. Stuff like that. It's not that I no longer like to go out and act all crazy (see: Thanksgiving Miracle, Philadelphia, St. Patrick's Day, every trip to Chicago ever, tonight's bachelorette party (probably)), it's just that the times I do go out act like a booze-soaked psychopath are few and far between. Not because I don't like to drink anymore (heh), but because I'd rather sit at home in my pajamas and drink while watching a movie or playing Wii or whatever. I'm simple. I don't like wearing real pants, what can I say?

I don't know where I was going with that. Let's move on, shall we?

I went running the other night for the first time in like a week, because I SUCK, and as I was running, I noticed a little girl tottering down the driveway a few houses in front of me. She was about two or three (I don't know), and as she walked onto the sidewalk, going the same direction I was running, her mom, about 87 months pregnant, waddled after her.

Waddler: Come back, sweetie!
Runaway Girl: Heeheeheehee!

I kept running and eventually caught up to the little girl.

Runaway: Hi!
Me: Hello!
Runaway: Hi!
Me: . . . hi!
Runaway: I'm going to run with you.
Me: OK!

So then she started running after me. Away from her mother. This child was chasing me! CHASING ME! What if it followed me home and never left? I think that's how it happens. So, when I noticed she wasn't stopping and that her mother couldn't really run after her, I turned around and ran back toward her house.

Me: Let's run this way now!
Runaway: OK!
Me: Good job! Keep going!
Runaway: Hi, mommy!

And that's when her mom grabbed her and the runaway started crying. I totally tricked her, which is sort of comforting because sometimes I get worried that I might be stupider than a toddler.