Thursday, October 9, 2008

Ain't No Party Like A Tennessee Party

A few days ago, an article caught my eye on that contained a headline saying Ashlee Simpson had had a White Trash Party to celebrate her 28th birthday. I was intrigued. I am no Ashlee Simpson fan (although I do think she's much prettier since the plastic surgery, and feel that someone should encourage Jessica to have the bump removed from her nose as well) so I normally would not care about an article concerning her, but the "White Trash" part had my attention. Apparently, I learned as I read the article, guests dined on chicken fingers and macaroni and cheese, Ashlee wore cutoffs and a bikini top, her husband sported a mullet wig, and Jessica showed up in a leopard print dress.

Well, hell. It's just like the parties we've been having for years in Tennessee. We just think of them as regular old birthday parties (and weddings, and baby showers, and bar mitzvahs--psych! We don't have Jewish people in Tennessee!)

I remember the last birthday party I attended in Tennessee. It was a combination birthday party for Bellamy and me, as we happened to be visiting the folks during the first week of June. (I would like to note that even though we held the party on my actual birthday--June 5--nobody outside of my parents seemed to remember my birthday, and instead focused the party on my parents' wedding anniversary--June 2--and Bellamy's 3rd birthday--June 13.) It was held in the backyard, on the carport. We ate hot dogs (chicken fingers and mac and cheese is WAY too fancy, and requires silverware) on paper plates and used paper towels as napkins. It's possible that my ex-Uncle played the Banjo, although I don't remember that for sure. (I don't attend family functions without drinking heavily, hence the memory loss.) Someone might have barked "Jingle Bells" (oh, wait--that was Christmas. Sorry). There was potentially impromptu clogging and hay rides (it ain't a party unless there's clogging and hay rides). We had a giant sheet cake from Wal-Mart with Elmo on top. I know that I wore cutoffs (I've seen photos) and somebody in my endlessly giant family probably had on some animal print and a bikini top, and maybe even an animal-print bikini. Those are fairly standard in June in Tennessee, particularly when you're going to a party at a house with a blow-up pool in the yard. I don't believe anyone at the party had a mullet, but my Mom does wear a big, curly, fake, clip-on ponytail from time to time. She calls it her "white girl weave."

Ah, yes. Now I'm feeling homesick.

Eat your heart out, Ashlee Simpson. You'll never know how to party like we do in Cleveland.

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