Remember when you were in middle school and you went to an all girls sleepover? What always happened was someone got their period, someone got a horrible makeover, and someone went home crying because the Ouija board said she was going to be the first out of the group to die. And the next morning during breakfast everyone talked about the girl who went home crying.

Apparently things don’t change, except now you wake up sore in the morning from sleeping on the floor with a hangover, and breakfast is now brunch.

My girlfriends thought it’d be fun to revisit the sleepover. My friend Sue hosted the event; my job was to find a Ouija board.

I tried to get the party going by challenging someone to a boxing game with the new Nintendo Wii, one of the best inventions in the world. To my dismay, the gaggle of girls thought it was more fun playing with the Mii channel, an avatar creator where users can design 3-D caricatures. We played that for THREE HOURS! Each girl HAD to have a Mii, and it HAD to look like her. All the while they were saying, “Wow, this is a fun game,” while I shouted, “THIS ISN’T A GAME! BOXING IS A GAME.”

But I quickly shut up because I wasn’t feeling well. “F*CK! HOW THE HELL DID I GET MY PERIOD AGAIN?” And of course, the only thing available was a maxi pad from the ‘80s or one of those self-insert tampons the size of your thumb. I looked at both options and opted for the self-insert tampon. Of course while I’m “inserting” it, my friend Nora walks in and sees me with my pants around my ankles. We managed to have a wee conversation until I realized I had no pants on.

The night then carries on to the obligatory makeover. I thought I gave my coworker Tory the best makeover, but apparently she thought she looked like she could be in Poison and quickly wiped off her makeup. And of course we HAD to play with the Ouija board and by that time all the girls but me were drunk. Then the Ouija board says that Stacy is going to die first and then all hell breaks loose. Tears, cursing, accusations and then finally, exhausted sleep. I woke up the next day to find that Stacy left in the middle of the night crying.

THIS IS WHY I DON’T LIKE GIRLS.

UGH, I’m far too old to do this anymore