We're going streaking.

How was your weekend? Wonderful, I hope. I spent mine with my mom’s college family – greek family, but family none the less – celebrating birthdays of all sorts. And it was fantastic. Kicking off the festivities with bloody mary’s and a spa day in Palm Springs, not even the inevitable sunburn could have spoiled my mood. I’m wearing it as a badge of honor. A red badge of honor. That has surprisingly turned into a shade of almost tan-ish, which is somewhere in between eggshell and strawberry ice cream, but a step up from translucent, so I’ll take it. While my mom and her Theta sisters continued the party with luncheons and mixers honoring their sorority’s 100^th birthday, I spent the rest of my weekend making cootie catchers, painting my fingers and toes a lovely shade of purple, playing drinking games like a college kid, and sleeping way too late – all in the same outfit, as I wasn’t planning on staying through the weekend, and thus did not pack accordingly.  Why is it always the one time you don’t over pack is the one time you should have? Correction – all in the same two outfits, as in true spaz attack fashion, I managed to spill coffee down the front of my stripped sweater. Thank goodness for Target, and the incredible blowout sale on – you guessed it – stripped sweaters. And in my opinion, a girl can never have too many stripped sweaters. One should always be prepared to sail around the world on a gorgeous yacht at any moment. Which reminds me, must add these to my birthday wish list. And this while I’m at it.

My family and I have been heading down south to visit my parent's alma mater for as long as I can remember. Hearing stories of my parents in college is always hilarious, and traumatizing at the same time. My mom and dad met in college so I can always count on a really entertaining story, until I remember that we’re talking about my parents here and I instantly want to throw up. Because parents don’t party. I mean, mine don’t, as far as I’m concerned anyway. My parents never drank out of red cups. They don’t know what a keg stand is, or how to play flip cup. They go to sleep at a reasonable hour and they’ve never been so hungover that In n Out is the only remedy. Okay, so I know my parents partied. Obviously. I’ve heard the stories. But I feel oh so much better thinking they didn’t. Allow me to elaborate. What did you do in college? I know I had a blast, and I certainly hope you did as well. Do you really want to think of your parents having that much fun too? Absolutely not. On second thought, as parents, do you want to think of your kids having as much fun as you did? That actually sounds a lot worse. So mom, I don’t drink out of red cups either. I’ve never done a keg stand. I don’t know how to play flip cup. I don’t even like In n Out. And no, please don’t ask any further questions. Okay friends, my lips are sealed as long as yours are. I think our future children will appreciate it.

And besides, we all made it out alive, right? 

Right.