Monday, November 11, 2013

A star in my own mind


Aaaaand we're back! I have been away from my computer for several days and have not written because life happens and although it never much happens to me, the cosmos has decided that I must somehow be involved... Moving on!

So, I did the fashion show last night, and yes, I had a very good time! I get there and there are already 13 girls and women there so I figure that I'm the good-luck number because I like superstitions and if I can at all incorporate them into my daily life, I will do so. There were people there to do hair and makeup, which bothered me a bit. Not that they were doing it, but how they were doing it. There were no fresh disposable mascara wands in between people, no fresh makeup sponges, not even single use lipstick brushes. I shared facial germs with twenty-something women last night. As I am a little anal-retentive about germs, it felt like having someone do my eye makeup with a tissue found on the streets of New York City after three thousand sick people made a protest against restaurant workers having to wash their hands after urinating... It basically freaked me out, but I lived through it and as yet have not discovered a patch of eyelash fungus or any communicable diseases nor have my lips blistered and fallen off, so I am probably okay.

As the night progressed, I discovered one of the models had a newborn baby. I mean a new newborn baby. It still had that weird white crusty stuff where his eyebrows will eventually be. I thought, well good for you, lady, I've never had a baby and done a fashion show in the same week! You are one hell of a woman. I'm still not entirely sure which woman was the mother as two women came in with the baby and neither particularly looked like they had been recently vacated. I think they were just friends though, but I really think one must have been the mom. Either way, this kid didn't have what you might call an actual babysitter, so as we were all changing, whoever was already dressed just held the kid. I ended up with it at one point and for about five seconds my heart went (actual quote) “Awwwww”. Then it smiled at me and I melted. Turned out that wasn't a smile. It was a poopie. My heart instantly rewound it's previous sentimental comment and thought “that is a stinky baby and I am so glad I never have to do that again”. I gagged a little then passed it on to some other woman who may or may not have been a part of the show and I went for my turn down the walk.

The group I was with were staged in the mens bathroom for changing, thankfully the hotel had cleaned it well, and we all changed in there and threw clothes around like crazy people and made sure each other looked great... and I got to take a picture with a urinal! I was so excited. I don't get many photo ops with a urinal, so we had a good time taking stupid pictures of ourselves trying to imitate men. I told my daughter and son about it afterward and my daughter wanted a picture, because we bond that way, so she and I and my son all headed off into the mens room after the show to take more pictures. The bathroom was still closed off as staging, so it was fine. So we go in and I'm laughing and talking and my daughter is laughing and my son is standing next to me and get over the urinal and turn and smile for the camera and my son looks at me and says “WHAT are you doing?” I looked at him blankly for asking such a ridiculous question and said “I told you, I'm taking a picture with the urinal”. He said yes, he could see that much, but I was using it wrong. Apparently there is no need to straddle a urinal. I had gotten up close to it and stretched my legs around it and was standing there over the urinal. That's not how it's done at all. Those men stand somewhere in the back of the room, so I've been told, and pee. They can write words! One guy told me if you are bored, you try to pee a hole into the bowl cleaner tablet. I mean, I knew guys peed standing up, I just wasn't aware that you could trust yourself so far away from your intended target and that you could write a couplet if the mood hit you and you'd had enough beer! I'm actually kind of impressed. I've never been to do anything like that creative with my waste fluids. I just thought you got rid of them and moved on; I have been lied to.

After the show, my darling family who came out and supported me took me to an Italian restaurant and I made the waiter think something was wrong with me. Not on purpose of course, I'm never funny when I want to be funny. I'm funny when I'm relaxed and minding my own business. For those who don't know and don't care, I am a vegetarian. I am not happy about this, so I will never moo at you while you eat a burger, I just can't eat meat. I seem to be okay though with fish about twice a month though. So I ordered this grilled salmon cannelloni with grilled vegetables on linguine pasta and I finally finished the marathon round of questions at the end; the ones you have to answer for the waiter: “What kind of pasta would you like with that? What kind of dressing on your salad? Would you like our house wine? Do you know where my keys are? Who did you vote for?” So by this time my brain was on auto pilot and I was mechanically answering questions. When he came to the end, I mechanically asked my question which is “There isn't any meat in this, is there?” He stopped and looked at me and said “Is – is there meat? In your salmon?” Quickly I tried to make some excuse about how everything has bacon tossed in it anymore and then my son looked him straight in the eye and made the Cthulu sound.

The end.

If you don't know what the Cthulu sounds like you should Google it. I was horrified.