1.) Pat yourself on the back for being so attractive. Feel that? That was from me to you.
2.) Click this website
3.) Scroll 3/4 of the way down to "Best Local Blog" under the "Home & Away" section
4.) Click "Other"
5.) Write in 2birds1blog
6.) Scroll to the bottom and click "Submit Your Vote"
7.) Tell a few friends to do the same
8.) Feel really good about the decision you just made
Now, if there's anything I learned from the Blogger's Choice Awards Shitstorm '09, it's that you won't vote for me unless I do something for you. Besides writing this blog. Every day. For free. Thereby compromising my job on many an occasion. (00O0o0O feel that baby?! That's just the burn of Jewish Guilt. Should clear up in about 2-3 weeks.) Unfortunately for both of us, I'm in the middle of a big 2b1b re-design and haven't gotten to new stickers yet, so I can't bribe you with those again. However, shoot me an email: meg@2birds1blog.com. Tell me what you want. We'll see what I can do. Or just vote because it takes five seconds and it's the nice thing to do. Kthnx.
NOW. Let's get racist and booze!
Anna reminded me in the comments section of Tuesday's post about what we lovingly refer to as "The Black Purse Debacle of 2004." BPD '04 is probably one of my all-time favorite incidents of accidental racism in the history of accidental racism. Ever. And (surprisingly,) it didn't involve me. It involved Anna, my sister and my sister's friend's boyfriend. Seeing how I was only a witness (and thank Christ I was,) I didn't think it was really my story to tell. However, it's just too good to keep to myself. IT'S JUST. TOO. DAMN. GOOD. So I hope Anna's OK with me sharing it here with you now. (Unfortunately I can't ask her because she's currently at cruising altitude en route to Miami. So fingers crossed.) Here we go:
Every year my sister and our friend Rachel throw a Kegs 'n Eggs party the day after Thanksgiving. It's a magical event full of delicious foods and day drinking, and it's pretty much all I live for. Being only 19 in 2004, an all-you-can-drink day event was particularly exciting to me and my friends and we rolled up ready to party.
What you need to know:
1.) My sister didn't really know Anna very well at this point. Although Anna and I went to high school together and she was best friends with literally all of my best friends, we were never that close. Shocking because now she's my lesbian lover, I know. Why weren't Anna and I friends in high school? Frankly, I was intimated by her. One day during Sophomore year, my biology lab partner, Bruce Tran, made a list of the 10 hottest girls in our school. I distinctly remember him being like, "OH MAN! That new girl Anna is so fucking hot. She's definitely in the Top 5!" So when Anna joined my group of friends a few years later, I was all, "OH GOD. It's Anna. Of BRUCE TRAN'S TOP 5 FAME!!!1 I'm scared so I'm not going to talk to her, ever!" I understand this is quite possibly the dumbest reason to not be friends with someone, but it happened. And I'm not proud. I lost a solid year of friendship with Anna and frankly Bruce Tran, I blame you and your list. My point is Anna and I only got close Freshman year of college and therefore Becca didn't know her as well as my other friends, who I had known since middle school.
2.) There were two other important people at the party that day: my sister's co-worker "June" and June's boyfriend, who we shall call "Andre," as they brought Verdi to the party, which was my first (but definitely not last) experience with malt champagne. There's really no delicate way to say this, but it's an important part of the story so I'm just going to go ahead and say it—June and Andre were ghetto. Lovely people! But ghetto as the day is long. They brought Verdi unironically. They stood out like sore thumbs in a sea of preppy white kids in Glover Park. During the course of their friendship, Becca never gave June a ride home due to honest-to-god safety concerns. Again, two of the nicest people you'll ever meet and I'm not judging. I'm just saying theyz was G-H-E-T-T-O. Moving on.
The party was fantastic. My friends and I ate and drank our little 19 year-old faces off. I liken our first experience drinking malt champagne to the first time a vampire drinks blood on True Blood. At first we were a bit skeptical and weirded out, but once that first drop of Verdi hit our lips—there was no stopping us. We were ripping the bottle away from each other's mouths and chugging like we had been wondering the Gobi desert. It was glorious.
As the party winded down, Anna and I stood in the doorway of Becca's bedroom talking, probably having a drunk heart-to-heart about Bruce Tran and the perils of high school while my sister helped her guests gather their coats and said her goodbyes. Suddenly Becca ran up to us and asked, "Has anyone seen a random black purse??" Just then, June's boyfriend Andre walked by. "Oh, THERE HE GOES!" Anna exclaimed, pointing directly at Andre.
Time stood still. My sister's mouth dropped, Andre kept walking and Anna, genuinely excited that she had helped my sister find the party's random black person, continued to point at Andre. Becca made a half-gasp/half-laugh noise and walked away stupefied. "WHAT?! What's wrong?!" a confused Anna asked me. Between gasps for air as I rolled around the floor hysterically laughing, I explained to Anna that my sister was looking for a random black purse, not a random black person.
Anna was mortified. 100% mortified. She was convinced for years that my sister hated her and thought she was racist. I can honestly say that Becca never hated Anna, but she miiiiiight have thought she was questionably racist a little bit, no matter how many times I tried to explain that Anna doesn't refer to all black people as "black purses."
And now every Thanksgiving when we're going around the table saying what we're thankful for, I thank God this mix-up happened. Because it has enriched my life in ways that you will never be able to understand.
Fin.
In keeping with this week's racially charged theme, I give you the Crash Drinking Game! (And no, not that Crash Drinking Game...)
Rules:
Drink When:
- Someone says a racial slur
- SOMEONE DOES IT! ("It" being sex)
- Sandra Bullock says something racist and it's shocking because she's Sandra Bullock
- Someone dies
- Someone gets finger banged
- St. Christopher is referenced
- A gun is drawn
- Ludacris rants about how it sucks to be black
- UTI. We've all been there. We feel for you old man.
- A grown man cries
- Ryan Phillipe. I said God damn.
- Graham's mysterious brother is referenced
- An Asian person struggles to properly pronounce their L's (THIS REALLY HAPPENS! I'M NOT JUST ASSUMING!)
As always, thank you so much for reading, preaching the 2b1b word, twittering, facebooking and writing us in here. We really, really appreciate it. Have a great weekend and we'll see you all back here bright and early Monday morning! Later!
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