What I’ve learned this week:
Don’t Drink to Make Awkward Situations Less Awkward
I went to a social event organized for people in my program with 2 of my girlfriends. We looked hot, we sat at the front of the room, and we laughed loudly at each other’s lame jokes. We were hoping to meet some cool new people in our program. Boy, were we wrong.
Crazy #1, who is a stern-looking middle-aged woman, comes and sits down right next to the three of us deep in conversation. She interrupts and starts talking about how experienced she is, how she’s taught all over the states, how Canadian students suck, and how she’ll be our competition when we apply for jobs. This lasted for an hour, and we could hardly get a word in. I downed a couple of beers to avoid keeping eye contact with her.
Crazy #2, an acquaintance of one of my girlfriends, comes over and starts chatting with her. He’s very touchy-feely. He then talks to me as if we’re best friends. He inches his way closer, reaching between me and my friend to rest his elbow on the table. His arm is touching me. The more he’s talking, the more he starts half-sitting on my lap. My stool is almost falling over at this point, but because it’s a high stool, and can’t really shift it away from him because I might topple over. So, I half-balance and down some more beers, hoping the beer bottle in his face might make him back away a little.
Crazy #3, a balding man in his late 50s or early 60s comes and sits right next to my other friend. He introduces himself briefly, stays there for the rest of the night silently, smiling, staring at us. At one point, I write down a website on the back of an old receipt for my friend. Bald man asks, out of the blue, “Are you giving me your number already?” Ewww. I wistfully look at all the young, attractive, cool kids playing pool. I can’t leave my friends with these weirdos, so I stay, and down a few more.
By the time we leave to go to another bar for dancing, I’m shmammered. While we were dancing, I was apparently saying to anyone that approached me, “Are you black or a drag queen? Because I’m only attracted to those kinds of guys.”
I also almost fell off a balcony & ate street meat from a vendor who wasn’t wearing gloves or napkins. Yuck.
|How street meat should be: covered with only ketchup and properly wrapped IN A NAPKIN.|
Vanessa Hudgens Can’t Sing
I’m sure most of you knew that already, but I never watched any of the High School Musicals, because I knew that they would be a disgrace to the word “musical.”
I’m a huge RENT fan, and I watched clips from the production directed by Neil Patrick Harris at the Hollywood Bowl on Youtube. It stars a few people that were in the recent Broadway run of RENT. I was also excited to see Wayne Brady (didn’t disappoint), Nicole Scher-something from the Pussycat Dolls a.k.a. the head slut (she was better than I expected, but definitely didn’t have the fierceness to bring the part of Maureen to justice), and of course, Vanessa Hudgens, because I had a feeling she would suck.
She plays the part of Mimi, the stripper/junkie, and does a horrible rendition of the song “Out Tonight.” Mimi is supposed to be dancing provocatively in this number, but Vanessa just made me extremely uncomfortable & praying that she would close her legs. Plus, she was so off-key that I was going “Why, Neil Patrick Harris, why did you cast her?” Urggh.
If you have no idea what I’m talking about, go watch the movie RENT (not nearly as good as the Broadway version, but still awesome)!!!
|My fave character from RENT, Angel.|
Men Use Breast Cream
I went into a Lush store and a well-groomed, attractive, polite young man tried to sell me Lovely Jubblies Breast Cream. It’s a cream that you put on your melons that is supposed to tighten them and keep them smooth and firm. He tried to convince me that I would love this product because he said, “I use it all the time. You can even put it on your butt!” There are a few problems with this statement:
1) You are a dude.
2) Even if you had manboobs (which you don’t), you shouldn’t be caressing them with floral scented lotion that costs $25 for a small pot. The visual image is frightening.
3) Because you DON’T have boobs, you shouldn’t be telling me how much you love the lotion because YOUR CHEST IS ALREADY FIRM (if you don’t believe me, I don’t mind double checking). Way to rub it in my face.
4) Are you telling me that my boobs need firming? Because if you are, well you must have been squinting to find them. Thanks for looking. Let’s date.
Until the next random week…