Man. Weird weekend.
First off, it technically started on Thursday night, right after my incredibly stupid phone maneuver threw me off kilter. I got to quilting class an hour and a half late, and immediately proceeded to kick some serious cotton covered ass. The Quilt Nazi declared my quilt ‘Perfect’. I’m done with the middle actual patchworky section now so the next two classes will be dealing with putting on a border type thingy, a back and stuffing, and then sewing the actual ‘quilted’ part of it, which I guess entails repeatedly running the sewing machine over the top in some random fashion. I’m not certain. I’m sure it will all become clear however.
Then I went to karaoke at the Cute Boy Bar. One cool thing: When I walked in wearing black slimline trousers, white t-shirt and my red croc jacket, Jason looked at me and said ‘Wow Weetabix, you look really slick.’ Which was very cool. Because Jason is usually Mr. Stoic and doesn’t offer flattery for the sake of flattery. It turned out that there was some kind of karaoke contest going on. It also turned out that Esteban showed up, feeling residual guilt for not seeing me for several days on end and grabbing one last chance to see me before I left for Milwaukee on Friday. The contest was ok, but it was based upon audience participation. Essentially, you were judged upon your ability to get the drunken people to sing along with you or the fact that you brought a large group of friends along to cheer for you. Vocal ability didn’t matter. You didn’t even really have to know the song.
My. I sound bitter now, don’t I. Need I even tell you that I didn’t win? No. I didn’t think so. I was the second person up and while I think I did an acceptable job, ‘Back on the Chain Gang’ didn’t inspire as many ‘ooh ahs’ as I had hoped. And I felt like a dork, pimping the crowd for reaction. I can’t sing with a smile on my face. I just can’t. I’m more of a serious artist, damnit! I’m not Kathy Lee Gifford! Yeah’ I’m trying to get over myself.
Sadly enough neither did Joel or Cheri, which is a terrible shame. Cheri’s probably got the best voice of any of us. She picked ‘You Oughta Know’ deviating from her normal ballads in a nod toward the ‘crowd reaction’ slant. They ended up playing some wacked out sped up dance version and she did a very good job but it was still wacked. It confused the drunken people. They didn’t know when to sing and when not to sing. I think she was sabotaged, honestly. Joel did ‘Ring Of Fire’ which he does excellently. The entire bar was singing along with him. He was skanked on the contest. Of all of us, he did probably get the best crowd reaction.
But it was still a lovely way to wrap up the week and even lovelier still that Esteban was there. At one point, though, I told him that he was cramping my boy action, because normally at least one cute boy flirts with me at the Cute Boy Bar. He was like “I’m what?” and then I just laughed at him. I like to keep him on his toes.
We went home and then in the morning, I went to lunch with all of Esteban’s friends, which was nice. Then I geared up the car and packed and toddled down to Milwaukee to hang with Mary Kaye. We ended up going out with a bunch of Angel’s cop friends, but then I got a migraine and ended up driving home that night. The whole thing was a downer.
On Saturday, I went shopping and got a massage to sooth my tired sore muscles. Then I ended up at the Prescriptives counter, where I splurged on way too much makeup. No, actually, it wasn’t too much makeup. It just cost too much. It’s really sad when $150 worth of products fit in this teeny tiny little bag. But I did get the custom blended foundation and loose powder which perfectly match my skin tone. And some wicked ‘slutty ho’ red lipstick. When I wear it, it looks as though I’ve been eating ripe strawberries in a field behind a French Provencal farmhouse while tending the sheep or something. That’s what you get for $18′ it’s not just a tube of lipstick, it’s an entire backstory. You’ve just got to love that.
While I was having my ‘color analysis’ some chick walked off with my batch of custom foundation. I couldn’t believe it. I mean, sure the stuff costs $55 an ounce, but the reason it costs so much is the fact that they make it especially for YOU. It’s Weetabix color. Not Thief Girl color. I’m completely boggled by it. But at least the lovely girls at Prescriptives whipped me up a new batch.
I also bought some more body butter. Yes. I did just buy some but the coconut was in stock now. So I bought that and a body scrub, which were on special 2 for $25. I have a feeling I’m going to start hoarding this stuff. It’s spiffy, that body butter.
Then Esteban, Markus and I went out to dinner at Applebees, because we live in a horrible awful little town and sometimes Applebees is all you’ve got. We all ended up getting steak. Despite the claims of Applebees, they do not make a very good steak. No one was clamoring to have the chef sign their stomachs. What is more, the steak I ordered did not even come with vegetables, so I ordered that on the side. I can’t deal with a veggie-free meal. Oh, ok, the ‘garlic mashed potatoes’ were theoretically vegetables, but they could have also been wallpaper paste for all I know. At least with grilled zucchini, I know where I stand.
I watched Trading Spaces (note to self: if signing up to be on Trading Spaces, do not let Hilde near your home) and had a weird moment in that I actually liked Frank’s room rather than Hilde’s. Not that I ever like Hilde’s anything, but I usually detest Frank’s kitschy crafty crap and love him for his quips and ‘I’m a completely heterosexual male’ just ask my wife’Bill.’ Also, Frank didn’t sweat like priest in a boy’s locker room. It was very surreal. I don’t know if I can handle this Kinder Gentler Classier Frank. It makes the universe all imbalanced. Next thing I know it, Vern will be painting rooms bright pink and upholstering sofas with Dalmatian prints.
And I think Ty has turned into Hilde’s bitch. I kept rolling my eyes the way he created two coffee tables for Hilde’s room without her asking. I expected him to ask Paige to find out if Hilde thought he was cute. My respect for Ty dropped. I’ve always liked him, not because he’s a fine piece of man meat, but because he’s obviously smart and clever on his own and he makes fun of the stupid people on the show.
And he knows how to handle tools. There’s something inherently sexy about that. Very evolutionary, I’m sure. I’d have been one of those cave women saying, ‘Did you see how Trog handled that rock? I mean, his brow is really sloped and his knuckles still drag on the ground, but watching him cleave that saber tooth’s skull open’. It made me’I don’t know’grooowwwwwwllll!!!’
I’d still take me some Doug in the black leather pants, even if he is a diva and swishy to boot, though. Then it would fulfill my need to be the fat funny girl sidekick.
