Can I please tell you all about the insanity of my night last night? Stop me if this gets a little livejournaly.
I dated a guy about nine months ago (coincidental number, no this is not a story of how I have a lovechild.) We were not super serious. We were never bf/gf. And it lasted about 6 months total. I broke it off because I thought neither of us cared enough to try any harder at it, and I was done. Have we got an image in our head of how this 'relationship' was? Good.
SECOND BACKSTORY TIME.
Since breaking it off, this boy has jumped off the deep end. He has decided that I'm a liar and a whore, and if I hadn't broken up with him, he was going to take me to Spain and ask me to move in with him.
WHAT?!?!?!, you say.
RIGHT?!?!?!, I say.
Okay, moving on.
THIRD BACKSTORY TIME.
Joe--current bf and all-around best guy ever--and I went to Crate and Barrel the other day. We were preparing for a white elephant party with a $20 limit (ie in Emily's mind, everything ever). Joe decided his gift would be a really good knife. Because that's the kind of thing you'd never spend $20 on yourself but you'd love to have. Turns out, the really good knives at Crate and Barrel are even more expensive than that. DAMN YOU CRATE AND BARREL FOR BEING OVERPRICED BUT DON'T EVER LEAVE ME I STILL LOVE YOU. So Joe decided to get a little set of cheese cutting knives. They were cute, they were practical in an impractical way, they were under 20. Perfect. We hiked it out of there because I had a canker sore and my face was falling off.
ONTO THE STORY OF LAST NIGHT.
So we get to our friends' apartment, a small gathering of kids drinking wine and eating cheese and rum balls. My heaven. (Seriously, when I get up to the pearly gates and Peter or whoever is there, checking names off a list, he'll be like, "Right this way, Miss. The cheese has been waiting for you.") Only problem: since these are our mutual friends, Boy I Used To Date is there. And he is drinking wine out of a beer bong. Awesome.
So we are eating and talking and laughing--mostly about the fact that my friend Carla has apparently thought I was Jewish for over a year. And Boy is now acting drunk and saying inappropriate things to everyone under his breath. In a room of 11 people. He is muttering things, he is yelling things, he is throwing things, he is "woo"-ing being Jewish. In a room of 11 people. If you are trying to imagine how many that is--it is enough to gather around a single coffee table. Luckily, everyone ignores him, and he decides his new Best Move is to pretend to just pass out. We accept.
Now we move on to white elephant giving. Fun stuff is opened, things are going well. We get to Carla, who opens the cheese knives. I turn to Joe and give him a knowing smile. He turns to me and whispers, "That's not mine." Shocked, I turn back. I notice the wrapping paper. It's not his. Someone else has chosen the EXACT. SAME. GIFT. Of all the items that exist under $20, in a room of ELEVEN people.
"Who is this from?" Carla asks.
Silence. Everyone looks around. It is from no one. Scratch that--it is from no one who has been drinking their wine out of a GLASS.
Of all the gifts. In all the world. That exist. Ever. My "ex" and my "current" brought the exact. same. gift.