Totally 80s

Went to an 80s party last night, at the home of a fellow "Mocha Mom." We had such a good time watching 80s movies, eating, drinking, and laughing.

Nothing like watching "Coming To America" twenty years after it was released.

The hostess was soooo sweet. She presented each of us with a pair of colorful socks, colorful bangles, and glittered lip gloss. It totally took me back to high school.
 

The weird thing is, when I pulled into her subdivision, it was easy to tell that the community had been hit hard by the economic / housing downturn. These are BRAND new houses, yet some sit vacant, and there are grassy spaces where you can tell that additional new homes were supposed to sit.

Anyway, I notice that none of the homes on her block have address numbers. Since I've never been there before, I have NO idea which is her house...not to mention one of her neighbors pulled up as I was sitting, and was watching me like I was casing the block. I started to feel so awkward. I tried to call her several times, but she didn't answer.  I texted her, and she called me back. Instead of just describing to me which house was hers, she told me that she would come out on to her front porch. Well, the neighbor was carrying things into his house one after another, keeping one eye on me at all times. I just wanted her to hurry up. But she wasn't. Crazy thoughts started going through my mind, like "what if she doesn't want me at her party?" "What if she plans to leave me just sitting here stranded in her half-finished subdivision?"

     I totally start freaking out. I can feel my throat start to choke up and tears start to well in my eyes. I say outloud, "*Mocha*, this is crazy! What are you about to cry for? Stop trippin'." But I don't. I start working myself up more by constantly repeating, "She's trying to embarrass me (in front of whom,crazy lady?). If she doesn't come by the time the clock gets on (some random number), I'm going home!" Now even in my frenzied state, the mentally healthy me is telling the crazy me that I can't go home. How embarrassed would I be the next time I saw this group of women to admit that I drove all the way to the party, but left because the hostess didn't come to the door quickly enough? So, I'm going though various cycles of craziness and sanity, when she finally calls me and directs me to her home. Which by the by is BEAUTIFUL. And the watchful neighbor...of course it's HER husband!

     All I can say looking back on it, is that this month's menstrual cycle is probably gonna be a DOOZY!!!!