chicken shit: the other white meat.
December 17, 2005
We are heading out to a Christmas Open House where there will be Career People, People of Higher Social Status and Perfect Parents. The hosts are very good friends of ours, but I get scared around their friends because they all seem so put together and fan-fucking-tastic, drinking fancy wine out of fancy glasses while I hope there’s a beer I can drink without farting in public. I’m sure behind closed doors, some of these Perfect People yell at their kids, pick their noses and engage in weird habits I haven’t yet discovered. Not that I yell at my kids or pick my nose. Nope. Not me.
I would be lying if I didn’t say I was nervous. The eyebrows are plucked, the curling iron is heating up and my makeup has been applied to look “natural.” Ha. I always visulize something horrible happening like tripping on the way in and crashing to the floor, or forgetting someone’s name from the year before, or pissing myself, or the worst - looking like a stupid housewife. Yes, I do believe looking stupid is worse then pissing yourself, because at least if I piss myself they will laugh with me, not at me. I’m hoping to come up with some witty conversation, without sounding like a huge geek, or at least have everyone get drunk enough to think I’m fan-fucking-tastic too.
Did you know there are people out there who have no idea what a blog is? What the hell am I going to say when people ask, “So what have you been up to?”
I’ve tried the “I run a website” thing.
“About what?”
Blink.
Blink blink.
And I can’t go the route of, “Stay home with Troll Baby.” Last year I said that and the person I was talking to said, “Don’t you get bored?”
Well not at all. We fill our days with runs to my meth dealer and snorting laundry soap. Believe me, once you’ve smelled Gain, you’ll never go back to your old soap. You can sit there in a mountain of laundry and sniff for hours and hours. Oh the baby? He’s a big help. I smack a Swiffer pad on his ass and he does the floors. If he gets thirsty, he just drinks the dregs from the beer bottles in the kitchen. It’s all good.
Blink.
Blink blink.
Perhaps the drinking should start now. Yes, yes it should.
EDITED TO ADD: Note to self: when you think you look reallllllly good, don’t turn sideways and look at your big ass in the mirror. Confidence shattered, though slightly offset by Rickard’s Red Pale Ale.
December 17th, 2005 at 6:40 pm
Haha Karen, and you say my humour is funny. I think its dry compaired to yours lol.
December 18th, 2005 at 12:33 am
Hey there.
I just wanted to say thanks for joining us over at Self-Portrait Day. You have a great site!
-mihow
December 18th, 2005 at 8:11 am
LOL, I love your style! I share a number of these anxieties with you. Events thrown by The Company have far too many of these “perfect” people that you speak of.
A few months back, there was a large event put on by The Company. It was in a top secret location, so everyone arrived by bus. My date and I were the first two people off the bus, and we made our way over to the tents where the event was being held.
At the edge of the sidewalk, there was a crack. Being that I was not paying attention, I tripped and fell directly on my face. In my “formal” wear (and I use that term loosely). In the drizzling rain. HARD on the pavement. And in front of a BUS FULL OF PEOPLE. The embarrassment.
Not ONE of the many individuals who embodied great perfection stopped to help, let alone lend a token, “are you alright?”
Nice.
December 18th, 2005 at 11:52 am
Can i say that i can soooo relate to your note to yourself? Was just trying on a pair of cute board shorts i plan to take to the beach on Wednesday (yes, week of Christmas i will be at a beach burning my ass off, hehe). Looked great till i turned sideways and saw a gigantic duck’s backside! Shuddered and returned the dang garment. Sigh…
December 18th, 2005 at 12:02 pm
Well if you mention blogging, and they get that dumb, puzzled look on their fan-fucking-tastic faces and say, what’s blogging? You say, you don’t know what blogging is? Really? Then laugh, a big deep belly laugh and say, you’re such a kidder! They will then laugh nervously and change the subject for fear of looking stupid, which they probably are anyway. Wait…. just get drunk and piss yourself….ya do that, that’s less complicated. Hahahahah….Hope you enjoyed your night!
December 19th, 2005 at 12:58 am
After seeing your review on IT2M I had to take a look. As usual the Bitter Bitch gets it right. Congrats.
Where I live a high class event is defined as one at which there is more than one kind of beer. There might even be pizza, if you’re lucky.
December 20th, 2005 at 10:15 am
I’d go for a combination approach. Definitely go for the “Oh, you poor thing. So far out of the loop” thing for “What? You don’t know what a blog is?” Then clarify, “I’m a writer.” When they ask what you write, tell them mostly about parenting and casually drop the LM thing in there. Because that’s what you do. You write. Which makes you a writer.
Oh, and Gain smells like Ass. Overly perfumed fairy ass. Arm and Hammer all the way, baby!