Something I must address is my cousin's Bar Mitzvah I went to last weekend. My family drove up and we all celebrated. The service itself was, well, a service. But not all dull. Can you say "free yamakas"?
The reception was where it got crazy. We all hung out on a huge party boat. There was an open bar, airbrush tattoos (I got a pair of lips on my chest... whore), and fancy people walking around with fancy h'ouerderve fruits shaped like faces.
After we got off the boat there was a huge party in the yacht club. Yeah. The yacht club. No big deal. Inside was TIGHT. Everything was Monty Python and the Holy Grail-themed! They were playing visual clips from the movie on the ceiling, and seating assignments were parts from the movie (ie my table was "The Trojan Rabbit"... awesome). Everything was flashy and neon colored. Like, no joke. Everything lit up rainbow colors. And they were giving away loads and loads of this stuff! Along with a million silly fuzzy hats, swords, shields, armor, etc. And they took your picture and green-screened it into a decorative "Spamalot" photo and printed it out for you. There was a dance floor with a live DJ and, I shit you not, people who were PAID to PARTY. Like, their job was to keep the dance floor hot, so they just spent the whole evening dancing and flirting with the seniors of the group. One guy, whom my sister and I nicknamed "the Gigalo" because he was a total hired man-whore, asked my grandma to dance. Grandpa tried not to get jealous but eventually cut in. This reception was the first time I've seen my Grandpa drunk, and it was fantastic. He kept wanting to dance with my sister and me (dancing to "Play That Funky Music White Boy" with my grandpa = epic), and he got hold of a red-sequin go-go hat that he had on for a good portion of the evening. All my cousin's friends were there, so there were a bunch of 13-year-olds on the dance floor. This made me not want to dance for a long time, but three sips of creamy Bailey's later and I didn't really care. Oh yeah, alcohol! I'm a big kid!
I walked away from that Bar Mitzvah with probably 8 pieces of light up jewelry, 10 plastic light-up rainbow candles, a plastic crown, a fabric crown, a teal fuzzy pimp hat, a sword, and a Monty Python goblet. The free party favors catered nicely to my innate Jewishness. The food was so good, too. I recall I had "pecan-crusted pacific sole with orange buerre basil sauce." My sister had the sirloin. Om nom nom.
The next day, however, was spent entirely doing homework. 90% of that homework was a massive and daunting essay for Philosophy of Love and Human Sexuality. I'm proud of the end product though, and my professor's comments on the rough draft boosted my confidence.
Holy
Crap
I would like to bring up Tuesday night/Wednesday morning of this week. Tuesday night: I went to bed. At 4:30am the FIRE ALARM went off. Roomie and I were herded outside in the freezing air, me not really wearing any pants except for spandex dance shorts. We all waited outside... and waited... then were allowed back inside. I arrived back in my room, hungry for my pillow and my fleece blanket. The second I took off my jacket, the alarm went off AGAIN. And so AGAIN we went outside. And so AGAIN we waited then came back inside. Then bed again. Then the fire alarm a THIRD time. If only I were making this up. The fire alarm went off at half hour intervals for the rest of the evening and halfway through the next day. Eventually we all just ignored it, at least as much as one can ignore a loud, shrill, blaring halloo.
Worst night ever.
Turns out the fire alarm was broken, because students were smoking too close to the building, which caused the smoke detector to get dirty and malfunction. In a way this is a good thing, because this is arguably the most effective means of stopping students from smoking beneath my window late at night that I can think of.
HALLOWHEEEEEEE! Is this Saturday. No shit Sherlock. My friend and I are going to be Pain and Panic from Hercules. We made ghetto-ass costumes and they are bomb. I invented a way of making demon wings and they came out so cool! Maybe I'll do an informative blog about them one day. Maybe soon. Who knows. The world is my oyster!
That's inappropriate.
Weird. Some guy with a thick (unknown) accent from Newark just called me on the IT Services phone and started asking me random questions about Whittier. "Uh................................................ Let me transfer you to our Director of IT Services."
Auditions for "A Midsummer Night's Dream" are tomorrow. Wish me luck! Damn fruity theatre kids and their Shakespeare...
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