On Saturday afternoon, I was in Charlotte’s buying my mother a Mother’s Day gift. As I waited for the girl to wrap the present that I had randomly picked out after being in the store for two minutes, I noticed a Broughton student and his grandmother on the other side of the counter. How did I know he went to Broughton? Because I was in Cameron Village and also because an older woman who worked there looked at the kid and said, “Hey! Me and your mom (she should have said “your mom and I”, idiot) are planning Prom next year! It’s going to be so exciting! We don’t know what the theme is yet, but we’ve got so many ideas! We’re meeting at the Club to discuss it over brunch sometime this week!” (Note: To the kid that was in the store, good call on taking your grandma and making her pay for the gift.) Her excitement for an event that was almost an entire year away made me realize that such devotion to Broughton and all things ITB should be recognized more than one day out of the year. Since they are in a league of their own, ITB mothers should have their own day of recognition. Why should they share their day with all the other mothers in the world? Gel heads don’t celebrate Mother’s Day because most of them don’t know who their mothers are (mainly because they were dumpster babies). I propose that the Tuesday after normal Mother’s Day be reserved for such recognition. I’ll begin this new holiday with a tribute to ITB Mothers.

Happy ITB Mother’s Day to all you ITB mothers out there. Some of you are trophy wives, some have “jobs” “volunteering” at some pathetic charity (you all know I hate charity because I don’t like helping people who can’t help themselves), and some of you are simply hard working women that contribute to the wonderful bubble that we live in. Inside the beltline wouldn’t be ITB without those of you who devote your lives to constantly perpetuate the reputation that is passed on to the next generation of future trophy wives. I’d like to thank all of the ITB mothers for the following…

Thanks for planning all that crap we did in high school. The Queen of Hearts and Broughton Prom would be nothing without your incessant and neurotic planning that results from your desire to live vicariously through your children, since you recall high school as the best time of your life. Thanks for renting the limousines that we could get hammered in and for making reservations at restaurants that commoners couldn’t afford so we could eat in peace.

Thanks for lying for me on my community service requirements when I was at Broughton. Wasting three hours selling baked goods on a Saturday morning at White Memorial to raise money for some stupid Junior League crap was unbearable. I can’t imagine having to do that shit for the full 25 hours that Broughton required.

Thanks to the mothers who attend Book Club and Garden Club, even though some of you can only read on a tenth grade level, and all of you have Jorge do your gardening for you. The gossip wouldn’t be the same without these regular face to face meetings, since most of you don’t know how to use e-mail.

Thanks to Forrest’s mom, who graciously opened her house to all of us and her legs to our one friend who was drunk enough to do her.

Thanks for being an interior designer/boutique clothing store owner/insert your own “career” here, despite having no formal training, so that you can have something to take your mind off the fact that your husband doesn’t look at you the same way that he used to. Hint: It’s because you aren’t as hot as you were when he met you at that 80’s mixer when you were a freshman and he was a 7th year senior. Maybe if you spent more time in the gym and less time picking out fabric samples he wouldn’t take so many “business trips” on the weekends. The last thing I want to see is an obese wife asking me if I want to recover a chair that she can barely fit in with fabric that’s $700 a yard.

Thank you to the mothers that actually got drunk at Deb parties. The mothers that were naïve (stupid) enough to think their daughters didn’t get hammered every weekend were so strict regarding alcohol at the Raleigh party. These mothers, you know who you are, would go on an all out man hunt for anything that contained alcohol, including mini-bottles, cough syrup, Listerine, hand-sanitizer, etc. It’s easier to drop off a suspicious looking package in Times Square than it is to sneak in mini-bottles on the night of the Raleigh party. (For you underage kids: Going to lunch at the Club the day before the Raleigh party and hiding alcohol somewhere (not the bathroom) is the best chance you’ve got against these Nazi mothers.) We probably wouldn’t have terrorism anymore if these Nazi Deb moms were in charge of national security. But thank you again to the mothers that actually enjoyed themselves and got shit faced at these events.

Thanks to the cooler ITB moms that let us get hammered in your basement when we were in high school and when we moved home after college.

Thanks to the ITB mothers who tried to make their children child stars. If only American Idol was around when we were children, we’d have more than just Clay Aiken to claim as our own (I’m not claiming him). Your children are now off on their own making a difference in the world by living in New York trying to “make it” as an actor/singer/comedian/entertainer.

Specifically for my mother, thank you for favoring me over the other children that lived in our house growing up. I know you’d prefer for me to refer to them as my “siblings” but I’m not comfortable using a term of endearment when describing the only opponents I have when it comes time to divide up your assets. Sure they’re siblings now, but they’ll be my enemies some day.

Thanks for always accusing and blaming others for things that were 100% my fault. It was always reassuring to know that I could retell the events of a story and have you believe every word, knowing you’d go on a smear campaign to protect me. The time you robocalled every ITB mother to blame Forrest for me cheating on my AP US History study questions was especially touching.

Thanks for having a lawyer on retainer to handle all of my speeding tickets, assault charges, vandalism charges, DUIs, drug charges, and arson charges. To date, I have a spotless criminal record.

Thank you for forcing me to attend play groups, church functions, and play on sports teams with your friends’ children. How else would I have known not to socialize with people who weren’t exactly like me if it weren’t for you? (I’d like to think I would have figured this out on my own, but thank you nonetheless).

Thanks for being so disillusioned about Mary Ivy Laura’s underage drinking that you refused to believe she had gotten plastered at a concert. Thank you for attempting to maintain her innocence by e-mailing all the other ITB moms that totally fabricated story about how one of my friends roofied her. Thanks for thinking that including the story about how another one of my friends got roofied his freshman year of college would add credibility to your accusation. I’m sure he didn’t mind that you shared that story with all of Raleigh without asking him about it. You’re the best.

Thank you for teaching me to have children four years apart from each other so that we can maximize the amount of time I have a child attending Broughton. I know the last twelve years of being involved in Broughton has been as glorious for you as it has been for me, Mary Ivy Laura, and our younger sister (who refuses to be named on this blog, another reason I don’t particularly care for her). I’ll be sure to make my wives (not a typo) follow this pattern.

Feel free to add anything else in the comments section that recognizes the importance of all the ITB mothers in our lives.

I cannot express in words my obsession with Jersey Shore. I’ll get into that in another post, that recaps the entire season. Yes, the entire season. But there is some Jersey Shore related news going on in Raleigh. Namely,  Buckhead Saloon is closing. Don’t know what Buckhead is? Well then consider yourself a true ITBer. I know there are some of you who have had the misfortune of being dragged there at some point during its illustrious run as the hot spot for douchebags and community college sluts from the Trailwood of Tears. Basically, it’s miserable. Rumor has it that the space will be taken over by a Hip/Hop club, which is another reason I will never go downtown. Ever. My only concern is that the clientele from Buckhead may end up at Felson’s since Stool Pigeons, another gel head hangout, is also closed. That shitty Lucky B’s or 13’s or whatever the fuck it’s called and Brooklyn Heights can only hold so many miserable people at a time. Keep an eye out this weekend for anyone who doesn’t belong.

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Speaking of Trailwood of Tears douchebag gel heads, the Jersey Shore finale was pretty lame. I wasn’t paying too much attention because there was a lack of yelling, fist pumping, and people getting knocked out by “one shot! one shot!” on last night’s season finale. After Sammi retrieved Ronnie from jail, the cast basically went into their sentimental goodbye bullshit. I think some stuff happened with Snooki and some guy but I usually stop paying attention whenever she’s featured on camera, mainly because I don’t like to look at ugly people for an extended period of time. The after show was pretty intense. The Situation showed how much he really hated Ronnie as they exchanged some insults that were pretty humorous. The show was hosted by some dumb bitch that had obviously never hosted a reunion show, or any show, in her life. Sammi started to get quiet at one point and the host just kept prying and basically made her cry on the air. Even Ronnie commented, “this is awkward”. Sammi left the set as the host kept asking her if she was going to cry. I didn’t watch it all because I was flipping back and forth between that and Conan. But I dvr’d it so I’ll see it all this weekend.

While grieving about the show’s ending, someone sent me some information on renting the cast, as well as an idication that a second season is in the works. Yes, there is a possibility that we could pay for the cast of Jersey Shore to come ITB. It takes $30,000 for the whole cast to ”make an appearance” for one night, but who really wants the whole cast? I’m really only concerned with DJ Pauly D, The Situation, and Snooki (Forrest wants to bang her, so disgusting). I’m going to contact their agents and look into finding a good time for them to come get blackout with us. While I could probably cover the cost of having them down for a night, ideally I’d like them to stay ITB for a month. They would live in Cameron Village (someone suggested we turn Ballentine’s into an ITB “shore house” and let them stay there) and be required to attend The Point or Felson’s every night of the week. We’re going to need to raise a little bit of money, since I anticipate the cost of this to be upwards of $750,000. I’ll start working on this soon since there is now a huge hole in my Thursday night TV lineup. I guess I could always stay at home and watch what’s going on at The Point…