Hi it’s me. I blog about The Bachelor, missing some episodes because sometimes I have to have a life outside the show, and then blog even more sporadically throughout the rest of the year, not even touching The Bachelorette, because I’m not paid to do this guys.
They say every day is a holiday. Sites like this will confirm that notion. What most people don’t realize, is that every day, somewhere in the world, is a white girl’s birthday. Every single day, dare I add “literally” to that statement.
As a white girl, I’m forced to attend a lot of events to celebrate said occasions. It’s despicable. I’ve decided to capture real-life, anecdotes, and life lessons events that happen when you celebrate a white girl’s birthday. Prepare yourself.
The different types of “late” that white girls run.
Oh, you thought there was only one type of running late? You’re so glad you have me. Allow me to list the types of late that it is actually possible to be on any given night with a white girl.
The standard “just running 30 minutes behind” late. A common kind of white girl. Always tell this girl the party is 30 minutes earlier than it actually is.
The “I’m sorry I was at XX” late. This white girl is barely fitting you in her busy schedule. This might be her 3rd stop of the night, and it’s not her last. There will be other places she has to go before the world ends at 2 A.M. Plan on said person showing up HOURS late and having to text you 5 times while she’s on her way there to make sure you haven’t bar-hopped.
The “Where are we going again?” late. There’s nothing like someone who doesn’t read texts or Facebook events.
The “I’ve been here all along, but I ran into XX” late. THIS PERSON HAS ACTUALLY BEEN AT THE LOCATION FOR AN UNSPECIFIED AMOUNT OF TIME, BUT WITH OTHER PEOPLE, YOU’RE WELCOME.
The “You guys started early!” late. Some people have a hard time drinking between the hours of 6-9 P.M. Because that blurs the lines between day drinking and night drinking, and those gray hour areas are why God invented Happy Hour. If your party starts between 6 – 9, most people won’t know what to do with their hands, and won’t show up until 11 P.M.
You’ll meet other girls at the bar who are also celebrating a birthday.
One of them will be wearing a matching sash and crown.
Taking pictures doesn’t require a masters but it should.
HOW many white guys does it take to get a non-blurry, decently centered photo, worthy for a white girl’s instagram? I’LL TELL YOU. A FREAKING MILLION. Nothing causes a bigger scene than asking a stranger to take 17 photos, all on different iPhones, all different poses. Bless everyone involved and may he who labors bear the fruits of his work.
The HAPPY NEW YEARS!/Kim Kardashian circa 2006 girls.
Spotted: 8 long sleeve sequin mini dresses in skyscraper heels. Don’t get me wrong — I’m ALL about the power of a #GNO outfit that makes you feel fabulous and fierce. But it IS possible to be fab and fierce without cross dressing.
SAY NO TO KIM K CIRCA ’06
You will scream at the top of your lungs when a new friend arrives, like you haven’t seen them, or breathed, in years.
The surrounding 20-30 people will hate you but you love attention of all kinds, you Basic you.
white girls seeing each other at a bar
Everyone will have obnoxious spirit for their alma matter.
Blessed is he who begins a successful RAIDER POWER chant in public. That happens often, but those WOOP Aggie people are also infamous for disgusting things like this.
Someone will be drinking a skinny margarita.
(spoiler alert: it was me last time). Is this a Mexican food restaurant? Is there a mariachi band around? No? THAT WON’T STOP A WHITE GIRL FROM ORDERING A “SKINNY MARG,” I TELL YOU THE TRUTH. Even if it’s the LEAST south of the border bar in Dallas, this is Texas, and almost everywhere serves freaking margaritas.
I really didn’t learn how to drink to match the environment until after college. Which is weird because basically everyone in my family is an alcoholic, so I don’t know how that life lesson hit me so late. I vividly remember sitting in Triple J’s, in Lubbock circa senior year of college, and ordering a vodka cranberry. AKA the undergrad white girl drink of choice. I look back at that and think “Okay then.”
You’ll meet actual Benjamin Button.
So you’re at the bar. Where you’ve been for what seems like seventeen years. And you meet a guy about your age, who looks pretty cute, even in his flat bill hat. wait, am i into flat bill hats? you ask yourself.
After talking to said guy for a bit, he inevitably tells you his age, and he is 33. EDITORS NOTE: THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH BEING 33.
But your mind is blown because he doesn’t look a day over a young-looking 24, so you’re convinced this man is aging backwards, and in a few years he’ll be in his 40’s but look like a teenager. Also, only GOD knows what’s under that flat bill.
You’ll meet a stranger who you have mutual friends with and your brain will explode.
This is real life. Dallas is a small, small, small little tiny place, full of people who all know someone who knows someone who dated their college roommate on Tinder recently.
“Pretend you’re my boyfriend!”
Ahh yes, there comes a time in the night when a white girl gets hit on (GASP!!!!) by “a creeper” and has to pretend to be grossed out, and needs another white male within the friend-group to “be my boyfriend pls!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
This tactic is uncannily flirty, however said fake boyfriend is usually gay.
People will tell you their names but you’ll name them yourself.
Also known as people I’ve met recently:
Beard #4 (yes I met 4 bearded men in one night recently, it was exhausting)
Kendra Scott girl
Really wants to wash her hands girl
Don’t block her view of the TV lady
Man with baby
Guy from Not Somewhere In Texas
He has a girlfriend guy
good luck and happy birthday to all the white girls today is ur day good luck sky’s limit
This post is originally from my old blog, Fashion Food Frivolity. I’m repurposing it for this new blog because I think I’m hilarious.
It’s 5:01 P.M.
Your coworker/roommate comes up to you.
Talks you into going to a boutique.
You had plans to work out and cook a healthy dinner.
And read a book series that was cool five years ago.
But you’re easily persuaded into spending money you don’t have on clothes you don’t need.
You drive to the boutique, solely to be support and not buy anything.
You try on 18 dresses.
Everything makes you look like a hampster in a prom dress.
You try on the boring white sequin dress.
This dress says I’m twenty something and I’m going to a Christmas party.
You try on the hot pink dress.
This dress just says I’m twenty something.
You just need a dress that says I’m young, sophisticated, sort of, but mature, but still enjoy spongebob, but can keep that on the DL, unless someone else admits it, which is usually a guy, and by the way I’m single, but not like desperately single, just casually single, but not needy, unless I like you, these sequins are not trying hard right?
But they are. The sequins definitely are trying hard.
Sequins scream, it’s the holidays! I’m a white girl!
And then the sales associate breaks the news: “Everything in the store is 20% off in 30 minutes.”
“DONE AND DONE,” you exclaim to your roommate. And the whole boutique. Or do I want this dress?
Now comes the self doubt and indecisiveness.
If everything is 20% off, now you need to see everything.
You try on seventy nine more dresses.
There is a line of annoyed twenty somethings and moms that think they’re twenty something wearing smaller sizes than you behind you.
Waiting on you to finish trying clothes on.
The store is playing really stressful, fast Christmas music. Do I like the clothes or am I just trying to get away from “Santa Clause Is Coming to Town–the remix”
The sales associate says she LOVES you in that dress.
Of course you do.
Then your roommate brings you the “Tuxedo dress.”
You think YES.
You try it on.
It’s everything you could never want in an office Christmas party dress.
Politely, you ask the associate, “Hi how the hell do I wear this.”
“Oh, the owner of the store has it on, she’s right over there.”
The owner of the store is a Victoria’s Secret model.
The music gets louder.
SANTA CLAUSE IS COMING TO TOWN AND YOU WILL NEVER LOOK LIKE THAT IN A TUXEDO DRESS.
You don’t want to buy the sequin dress but you don’t want to wear what you own.
[insert scene of Maude Apatow in the closet screaming expletives at her clothes, which has apparently been deleted off of the internet because I can’t find it]
You try on the burgundy maxi dress that you die for.
You’re not Rachel Zoe.
It won’t make sense at the office party.
Sequin holiday dress it is.
You still want the tux dress.
Maybe it can be your plus one.
You buy two jackets.
Everyhing is like a thousand percent off.
You still spend over a hundred dollars. It’s okay you tell yourself. It’s like a Christmas present to myself from myself you tell yourself.
You get a free gluten free cookie from the sales associate before going to the register.
Except it’s not free.
You’ve been to this boutique at least twice just this month alone.
You more than paid for that freaking gluten free cookie.
You exit the store.
A guy is walking in as you’re walking out.
Your car is right in front of the store door.
He comments on how bad you parked.
You drive home.
It’s now 7 P.M.
Enjoy your sequin dress.
And everyone else’s.