Nothing beats the giddy feeling of opening up your mailbox and spotting an envelope that’s too small to be a phone bill, too sparkly to be a belated birthday card and, therefore, must be a party invitation. You rip it open as your brain swims with thoughts of your awesome popularity. You fantasize about getting sloshed, ending up with another invitee’s tongue down your throat and recounting the tale of your night’s conquest to your buds around the brunch table the next day.