I said, "Things aren't perfect but I am happy."
I wanted to take it back immediately!
Happiness is a delicate thing with me. Its like a bratty child. The moment you say you have it all figured out and it seems to be working out..it flips on you.
Thursday....I went to the Spa Week Media Party.
It was aweeeesommmme!
I got a reflexology foot massage...omg...heaven!
I got a neck and back rub, too. I don't think I like those...lol. Or maybe my muscles are so tense it hurt. My skin felt so tender.
My anti-aging hand treatment was cool too.
They had a chocolate fondue fountain and all these nice sweets.
I met some really cool people that could make some things happen and I had a great time. The goody bag they gave was so heavy that it broke. I got a new bag from Macy's and that one broke too...it would've been okay if I were going straight home but I was going to another event at the Gansevoort Hotel. A dude I have a crush on that goes to my church and went to my high school just launched a real estate company. He had a party at the hotel and I went.
I looove two hotels in NYC: The Hotel Gansevoort and the Maritime Hotel. They are both just stunning!
Because of my broken bag, I had limited mobility and ended up missing a lot - err- all of his party. It was crowded and ya'll know my purse was gigantic so...I waited for him. I had been in my 3inch heels all night and was really over it. I sat in the bar area next to some girls - err - wenches.
I do it with my girlfriends...I know a lot of women do...we go out to have drinks and happen to make snarky comments about women who tried too hard or didn't try hard enough.
These girls were going IN for the kill. They had something to say about every woman that passed by. After 15 minutes, I was disgusted.
I didn't even want to waste my breath and say anything because 4 against 1. I don't like those odds
So, I moved.
I ran into another type of woman. The fag hag. When I first started walking balls and more and more of my friends were gay, I found myself living the life of a fag hag where your gay friends become your Bible. They tell you what to wear, how to wear your hair, do your make-up, how to act. Its crazy. You get sucked in and its quite...idk.
Well, this girl was with 3 gay men...with the lingo...she had on a short sequined skin-tight dress and a long pony tail. Her heels were high high high. She had a waaaalk. Like Sasha Fierce x 10.
That could be me so I was like...okay. Then she walked up to me...I remember you from high school. You graduated in 04/05...
I said, "Hi. No in 03."
"Oh whatever...." She walked away.
When I tell you my left eyebrow went all the way up. That was sooooo rude. And it was really for no reason.
Faghags look down on women who seemingly aren't like them. Like, ugh! You don't know anything! I'm saying this because its how I used to be and when you see a glimpse of what you were, its not fun.
The party was letting out and I saw Kip (the dude I like) mingling with the guests. I couldn't go back to the first group and I didn't want another run in with the other chick. I stood by the door waiting to talk to him. In my heels. For about 45minutes.
At one point, I couldn't feel my toes.
I just wanted to show him I came out to support. I saw him for like a minute.
He said, "We have to meet up."
"Tuesday, I'll outlook you." I blurted out. I'm such a dork. I just rolled my eyes admitting that...lol
He said okay...I had a big hole in my tights that my dress barely covered, my bag was broken, my feet were hurting. I felt like a mess! I left, teeter-tottered around the corner and changed into my sneakers. It felt like an orgasm. No lie.
I took the train to a cab to get home.
I fell asleep immediately. It was glorious.
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