Tuesday, April 28, 2009

went to a party last saturday night

so, i went to a party last saturday night. and although it's true that i didn't get laid, AND i got in a fight, (actually it was more like one of my friends yelled at me and then stomped off to her car and left) that part is not what causes me to write. i didn't know a single person there besides the friends i came with and also a girl named nader(don't ask me, i don't know why). i tried to mingle but i was very stiff and wooden, mostly because i hate being around a bunch of people who already know each other but don't know me. during the course of the evening, i noticed that several people suddenly were wearing pieces of masking tape above their chest with strange tags on them like "man boy", or "living large", or "bodacious beauty". i didn't think much of it until nader approached me weilding a spool of masking tape and a sharpie asking me to put one on myself. i impolitely declined, because i hate wearing a name tag. it makes me feel all vulnerable and exposed and weird. it's not like i don't want you to know who i am, i just prefer not to have it posted on my boob. what's wrong with that? which brings me to my actual point.
last winter, i attended a volunteer orientation at a non profit charity group. these people make healthy, intersting meals for people who are afflicted with a terminal disease. they make the food onsite, (volunteers) and then distribute the meals (more volunteers) around the city. i really wanted to volunteer for several reasons. 1. i feel sorry for myself far too frequently, and i should, instead, feel sorry for somoeone else for a change 2. i don't have too many reasons to get out of bed in the morning, because it seems like getting up just means moving to the couch, and really, the bed is much more comfortable 3. i have experience cooking food, and i also have a car so i could cook and i could deliver. 4. i really need to stop feeling sorry for myself. oh, right, i already said that. ANYWAY, i show up at the volunteer orientation, and the girl at the desk asks me if i would like to put on a nametag. the classic nametag. . .HELLO MY NAME IS. . . so i politely decline the nametag. i think i may have said "no, thank you. i hate nametags". and she says, (by the way, i am in a position where i know no one, and am feeling a little icky) "WOW. no one has ever said no to a nametag before. which made me feel a little chagrined, but thankfully, she doesn't make me wear one. i sit through the whole thing, and really, i am genuinely impressed with the organization. they do a lot of good for people. when orientation ends, i give the coordinator my availability status, and leave feeling kind of good. she says they will contact me. except that she never does. contact me. i send several e-mails saying that i can't wait to get started, i can deliver, i can cook, but i hear nothing. it's been a year and a half and i still have heard NOTHING. i think i was rejected by the charity. i told my friend laurie about it, and she thinks it's because i rejected the nametag. SERIOUSLY? who gets rejected from volunteering? really. who? i do. apperantly.

Saturday, April 4, 2009


i have a gripe. weird, i know. it starts out kind of nice. picture this. i'm at work, and a few cute girls come into the place and sit at the bar. see, that part is good. it kind of breaks up the monotony, and who doesn't like to look at cute girls? even gay guys like hot chicks. for different reasons than the rest of us, and i don't even pretend to understand, but still. like a slab of medium rare new york strip is always good, cleavage is also always good. anyway, they begin to talk among themselves, and eventually i hear, "so my girlfriend and i went to" and then i have to go away because those drinks do not deliver themselves. but then i come back to pick up more drinks, and sometimes the drinks are not ready, so i say something funny to the girls who say "my girlfriend". girls laugh. deliver drinks. push customers to order more drinks so i can pick up drinks at bar near hot girls. flirt some more with hot girls. repeat a few times. finally, hot girls are a bit tipsy. because i can be a conversational genious when the need arises, i get hot girls to open up. (not like THAT you pervert) i know you can see where this is going, but of course it turns out that the "girlfriends" these ladies speak of are just their straight friends because the hot girls are also straight. of course they are. no offense, gay ladies, but you know what i mean.

so i ask the girls, why do you refer to your friends as girlfriends? they never know the answer. it's like i asked for the meaning of life. they giggle, and shrug, and look confused. (straight girls giggling--never gets old) i ask, if you go out for lunch, let's say, with a guy from work, do you tell your friends that you went out with your boyfriend walter for lunch? no, they do not. why, then, if you go out for lunch with you friend brenda, do you say my girlfriend brenda and i went out for lunch? they don't know. but they see my point. don't say girlfriend, straight girls, it confuses the gays. and that is just not nice.