There is a yamaka in my bathroom as we speak...

Shalom friends!

My roommates and I decided to throw a party. Pimps and hoes? Too ridiculous. Black and white? Nope. Sarah's Belated Bat Mitzvah or a-Jewish-themed-party-in-which-everyone-shouts-shalom-and-wears-handcrafted-yamakas. You know how pink is the new black, Bright Eyes the new Dashboard Confessional, and Forever 21 the new Urban Outfitters? Judaism is the new pirates theme party. The story behind this is that Sarah, the infamous half-jew of our household, recently lost a grandmother and now she must go to LA to pretend she not a half-jew, but a full one. A jew that actually went to Hebrew school and knows how to celebrate Yom Kippur. But how can Sarah achieve her dream of being a real jew without ever having a Bat Mitzvah? Thus, the party.

How to explain? Well, when I stumbled into the bathroom this morning, clearly 67.8 percent of me still drunk, there was a yamaka with the Jewish star sitting by the sink. When I ran into Bryan at the store he was wearing a yamaka. Someone brought their own yamaka. This is where the existentialism comes in--where is the reality in people actually participating in a party for judaism and also, how could we throw such a big party without the cops not arriving?

But I did not question reality, Judaism, religion, and/or the absence of the law enforcement. Mostly I started taking shots when I got home and did not cease until I fell into a deep, dreamless, and motionless sleep in my bed. That is when my words began to slur and I began to tell people how much they meant to me, of course. But how could I not? My beautiful roommates greeted me with a chalice they had decorated upon my arrival in the kitchen after work. Wonderful, wonderful people. They just had to know. As did all the new and old friends I stumbled across in my kitchen, living room, laundry room, and dining room. I even shouted "shalom!" to the strangers I'm pretty sure knew no one who lived here and just walked in from the street. I remember telling someone I was, "drunkity drunk drunk drunk.'

I actually got drunk enough to not worry about the cops coming. And they never did come. A miracle from a Jewish God.

Moral of the story? As far as obscure themes for parties go, this could have been one of the best. As far as roommates go, I know mine are some of the best.