One year ago, my friend Erik and I turned thirty. His birthday is the day before mine, so I always wish him a "Happy Katy's Birthday Eve." After 15 years, he still
[Here is our little eclectic group at the party. Friends since high school! When I see this picture of myself, all I can think of is this:] 
Dave and I decided that he would just stay home with the kids because we're too cheap to hire babysitters, and this didn't sound like his cup of tea anyway. Works for me.
Earlier that week, my friend Casey called to ask, "Don't you think we can just skip this and take Erik to lunch or something? It's so annoying to try and talk to people in a bar where you can't even hear anything."
"No," I told her, "it's just one night. It's Erik's birthday. We can do this!" (i.e. I will rope you into this so I don't back out of it myself).
On the night of the party, I drove to pick up Casey because she doesn't enjoy driving at night. (I can't make this stuff up, people). On the way, "When We Were Young" played on the radio, and I sang at the top of my lungs with Adele while pondering the mysteries of getting older.
That's when the evening changed from a coming-of-age film into a comedy. There were about five people there when we first arrived, so we all sat around a table shouting greetings to each other. Thankfully, I'm not as shy as I used to be, so I introduced myself to the one person I didn't recognize: Steve*.
"How do you know Erik?" I asked. We exchanged stories of how we met our mutual friend, then Steve said, "You know what? You look like you need another drink."
"That's ok, I'm driving." I told him.
"I'm going to buy you a drink and come over there where we can hear each other better."
Casey looked at me and said "Well that escalated quickly..." We all had a good laugh at my expense while I tried to figure out how I let this happen. My wedding rings aren't exactly Kardashian-sized, and I did come alone, so I can't fault Steve for not realizing my relationship status.
But, WHAT DO I DO NOW???
Our friend Susan, somehow not realizing what was going on, saw Steve at the bar and told him he should buy me a drink, because she probably thought, "Free drink!"
Next thing I know, Steve sits down next to me with a fresh drink, and I assume my classic smiling-yet-terrified face. I'm pretty sure the expression has looked the same for at least my entire life. I think it looks something like this:
Since I am awkward and it seemed presumptuous to announce my wife-hood, I made small talk with Steve and asked him what was the funniest or most interesting thing that has happened during one of his court cases. (He and Erik are both attorneys, and I remember Erik telling me once that he prosecuted a guy who stole 37 boxes of Crest White Strips. I'm guessing lawyers are storehouses for quirky stories, but I don't remember what he said because I was contemplating how this all would end).
Then he asked the big question: "So what do you do?"
Me: (Terrified Pause).
"Like, what would you say your life is all about?"
And I wanted to shout, "JESUS! My life is about Him!" (But I didn't, because that seemed like it would increase the level of awkwardness exponentially, and Katy, why did you even think this? It couldn't have gotten that much weirder).
But instead I said, "I stay home with my kids." (Insert awkward smile).
"Oh, really? How many kids do you have?"
"Three." (Now I saw the flash of fear in Steve's eyes).
"So, you're doing it all on your own, huh?"
"Well, actually, my husband is an engineer, and I stay home with our kids..."
And with that, Steve moonwalked away. Not really, but praise the Lord, an old friend happened to walk up and start chatting with me at that point. Steve disappeared into the crowd, and I never saw him again.
When I arrived home that night, I woke Dave up and recounted the story of my evening. Dave patted me and groggily said, "You've still got it, Babe."
A few days later, when I told my Dad about it, he responded, "It's like I always say: I can't blame the guy for having good taste."
With those two in my corner, being awkward didn't seem so bad anymore. But just to play it safe, I'm back to my old stomping grounds.
