There was a volunteer thank you lunch today at Piece (also the site of me and Joe's first date. Joe and I's first date. Joe and my's first date. NOTHING IS RIGHT!!) And they were handing out free T-shirts to everyone for the event, with a chance to trade for a Prom Hanks shirt if desired. OH I DESIRE, sir. I desire.
The volunteer lunch in and of itself went...fine. I don't really know anyone so well as to start sitting down and having a convo. I mean, I recognized people. But I'm just not the kind of person who starts up conversations willy nilly. As you may recall, I am usually talked TO. Not the other way around. So when confronted with a large group of people I don't know, I AM that girl from a 50's prom who came alone to stand in the bleachers and look sad. That is me.
Eventually I managed my way into a group conversation by mentioning that being unemployed is actually great at first until you realize you're spending your days watching Gilmore Girls. Which then turned into a conversation about Lauren Graham, which then turned into how much boys like her, which then turned into how hot Zooey Deschanel is, which turned into me coming across as SLIGHTLY more lesbionic than I am.
The conversation spiraled out of control from there and I again found myself alone and staring silently at a few limp pieces of salad on my plate that I had decided weren't worth stabbing with my fork. So I decided to go. I stuck it out for over an hour. I think that's pretty good for me.
OH! I didn't mention, too, that Dave Eggers was there. He's a writer and he wrote the screenplay for Where The Wild Things Are and Away We Go (which I stupidly packed away for the month! GAH!) So once I decided to leave, I accosted him with my damn Wild Things DVD and an enormous permanent marker (the only one I could find) to get him to sign it. And that's when things get awkward. GOD, why do I get so clammed up around Z-list people? What hope do I have of becoming one myself some day?! Anyway, I walked up to him and shoved the DVD in his face. He shook my hand (Oh right, that's what you do when you meet someone, I thought.) Then I handed him the marker and said, "Sorry all I have is a huge thing."
"What's that?" he said. And for a second I considered That's-What-She-Saiding Dave Eggers, writer of Where The Wild Things Are screenplay. But instead I just stumbled over myself.
"All I have is..this...uh, uh...whatsit. Marker." GOD. For once I would like my brain to remember the names of COMMON HOUSEHOLD ITEMS. So he signed it, and I'm pretty sure I made him anxious because he almost misspelled the word "stay" in "Stay wild, Dave Eggers" He handed it back and I bolted.
So I think that's all the awkward I can handle for today. OH BUT WAIT!! I'm meeting more z-listers today! I'm seeing Avenue Q and might get to meet the puppeteers afterward. Yikes, it's going to be deadly.
I need to watch more Gilmore Girls to calm the nerves.
3 comments:
PLEASE let me know how Avenue Q is!!!
AND, I want an "uncle Tom" shirt too! :P
AND, why do you think I just walked away from Bart; all Z-list situations are awkward.
Sra, you can't say "uncle tom," it has derogatory connotations. Anyway, he's just Tom, since no one calls their stepfathers Stepfather Tom.
I'll let you know, but word on the street is, it's SUPER raunchy. I'm nervous watching it next to my parents, let's put it that way.
1) I survived Titanic in junior high sitting next to my dad; you'll be fine
2) I forgot Tom's status as our "stepdad" - whoops.
3) Rumor has it that you got to go backstage!!!! WHAT?! SOOOO jealous.
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