Holy Guacamole!

Last night was a festive evening at D and J's for the Naughty or Nice party in Brooklyn. It was bundles of fun full of peppermint schnapps and mistletoe. A few of us, including D, decided to slip out early and head into the city to hit some clubs and bars. I mean why waste our cuteness! It was fah-reezing, and super fun because it was my first snow experience ever!

So, turns out, I'm still really not a club person. Just can't get into it, especially up here since there are so many Yankees. Where are my southern swoops? Anyway, before we left we had to go down to the coat check and pick up our stuff, and crazy man flipped a shit on D. Oh, no you didn't! With several drinks in us, we were a tough bunch of girls and decided to fight back. I hesitate to say we won because he delivered the ultimate blow. He called me Jersey trash! Are you blind sir? What part of me would you consider Jersey trash? Would it be my pale skin, my pearl necklace, my normal eyebrows, my normal amount of makeup, or maybe it was me saying "y'all, lets settle down now." I think that's definitely what did it. Well, don't EVER call me Jersey trash. I gave him a kick to the family jewels and mashed my heel into his foot and we ran like the place was on fire. Perhaps I remember it a little differently than it really happened, but who knows with a few drinks in ya.

Y'all be careful about what you say!

xoxo,

E