bah
I'm going to bitch a little more about men and then officially declare my hiatus from the opposite sex.
I went to a Halloween party last night and was dressed as Aphrodite. I folded (and stapled, and safety-pinned) myself a chiton (ah, my classical education was put to good use) and it looked infinitely better than the one I made back in undergrad for Classics Day. I had a great gold belt to cinch it, gold flats, a gold ribbon in my hair, gold earrings....I was gilded, dammit. And I looked really, really good if I do say so myself. Alluring, even, beautiful, but not slutty or sleazy the way most girls are for the holiday. I was hoping that maybe, just maybe, I would meet someone interesting so of course I wanted to look good.
No such luck. I knew some folks there, and I did meet some interesting guys but no one that really caught my interest (note: I did, however, meet a fellow former resident of The Garden State, which made me happy). Whatever, it's fine, I'm rarely in actively looking mode anyway. I just wanted to have a good time. Which I didn't really, because the party was pretty lame. I mean, it was definitely a college party hen most if not all of the participants have long left college behind. There was a game of Kings going on in the living room when I arrived and later a game of beer pong. Jell-o shots. As my friend Liz said, "I'm kind of ready to go to a big person's bar now." Exactly. It felt like a frat party but with better furniture and when I got home I reeked of frat party. Gross. Not my scene at all anymore.
But the real point of the story is that one of the guys I ended up talking to called me a terrorist. No, really, he did. He asked if I was Greek, and when I told him I was Turkish, he said "oh, a terrorist then." Of course my jaw dropped in shock and disbelief, and he elaborated, "well, halfway there anyway." He was drunk and maybe he thought he was being funny, so I just turned and walked away rather than arguing with his dumb, drunk ass or bitch-slapping him.
So yes, that was my evening. I eventually got drunk and stumbled home safely and by the time I got home and my roommate unchained the front door my costume was ripping up the side from me tripping on it as I staggered up the stairs, and one of the pins at the shoulder had come undone so I was largely exposed. And I smelled like a frat party. And I was confused as to the disparity with my clocks. But I slept really well. So there's that.
I went to a Halloween party last night and was dressed as Aphrodite. I folded (and stapled, and safety-pinned) myself a chiton (ah, my classical education was put to good use) and it looked infinitely better than the one I made back in undergrad for Classics Day. I had a great gold belt to cinch it, gold flats, a gold ribbon in my hair, gold earrings....I was gilded, dammit. And I looked really, really good if I do say so myself. Alluring, even, beautiful, but not slutty or sleazy the way most girls are for the holiday. I was hoping that maybe, just maybe, I would meet someone interesting so of course I wanted to look good.
No such luck. I knew some folks there, and I did meet some interesting guys but no one that really caught my interest (note: I did, however, meet a fellow former resident of The Garden State, which made me happy). Whatever, it's fine, I'm rarely in actively looking mode anyway. I just wanted to have a good time. Which I didn't really, because the party was pretty lame. I mean, it was definitely a college party hen most if not all of the participants have long left college behind. There was a game of Kings going on in the living room when I arrived and later a game of beer pong. Jell-o shots. As my friend Liz said, "I'm kind of ready to go to a big person's bar now." Exactly. It felt like a frat party but with better furniture and when I got home I reeked of frat party. Gross. Not my scene at all anymore.
But the real point of the story is that one of the guys I ended up talking to called me a terrorist. No, really, he did. He asked if I was Greek, and when I told him I was Turkish, he said "oh, a terrorist then." Of course my jaw dropped in shock and disbelief, and he elaborated, "well, halfway there anyway." He was drunk and maybe he thought he was being funny, so I just turned and walked away rather than arguing with his dumb, drunk ass or bitch-slapping him.
So yes, that was my evening. I eventually got drunk and stumbled home safely and by the time I got home and my roommate unchained the front door my costume was ripping up the side from me tripping on it as I staggered up the stairs, and one of the pins at the shoulder had come undone so I was largely exposed. And I smelled like a frat party. And I was confused as to the disparity with my clocks. But I slept really well. So there's that.