I Didn't Make the Grade in 'Classy'

Well, I wasn't able to get my car, because, apparently, my credit is SO BAD that applying for a loan with my sister as a co-applicant...I WAS DENIED! Sigh. I hate my life.

Then I got to spend a terribly awkward weekend with Dan and his Vanderbilt friends. Yes, they've all graduated. Yes, they're all younger than I am. And, yes, they all thought Borat was "the best thing ever."

By the way, if you're thinking of seeing that movie, go ahead and stab yourself in the throat. Unless, of course, you're into misogyny and racism. Then it's right up your alley. Wow. At first I spelled that as "ally" - how embarassing.

At least I don't enjoy shitty movies.

So back to the awkward weekend: It was far too reminiscent of my brief hellacious stint at Emory, and while I didn't dislike these friends of his, I got the impression that they didn't particularly care for me. Perhaps it was the overuse of the word "classy."

Am I insane here? Somebody give me some insight. I'm aware that upon meeting people for the first time, you may not "get" their sense of humor or what-have-you, but aren't there general rules of etiquette that keep you from saying things like, "Our rule for dates is it's OK if we've met the person, so we're sorry we met Wendy last night," or "We're too classy to drink [what you drink]."

I mean, help me out here. Am I just nuts? Do I have unrealistic expectations for people? Or is this a legitimate cause of concern?

It's entirely possible that this is normal and acceptable communication in this circle of friends that I'm unfamiliar with, so I'm keeping an open mind. But I refuse to make trips to the liquor store to get port. I mean, there comes a point when you just need to take shots of Jack Daniels until you pass out. And that point is now.

And now I'm about to force Dan to watch both Kill Bill movies with me, because after this weekend, I need to watch some death. Lots of death.