After the mind-bending events of the last week, I needed a break. So I went to the beach where I attended an event which shall remain nameless. I will say that said event was attended by a rather rednecky, McCain-loving crowd. It's okay, I'm from Illinois - I felt like I had travelled back for the day. And I will add that said event was not NASCAR. I was advised by one of my gay boyfriends at the beach not to inform blog people of the event because nobody (save my Midwestern posse) understands my love for this event and if anybody at all is reading this blog, they will question my sanity and stop.
Anyway, I am in this crowd of people, everyone drinking and having a good time when a guy stops me and says, "Hey, you look like Sarah Palin." His brother, standing beside him, concurs.
I must have looked so insulted that he said, "No, your glasses. You look like Sarah Palin." I said, "For god's sake, Sarah Palin? I am a woman and I am wearing glasses, but I look nothing like Sarah Palin." Although then I found the picture above and there's a picture of me that looks almost the same. *Cringe.* (Updo sort of included.)
He said, "It was a compliment, she's hot."
Now, this is not the first time this week I have heard that Sarah Palin is hot. My husband went to lunch with some clients earlier in the week and told me they were all over how hot Sarah Palin is.
How depressing is that? It's like when my former?/first? mother-in-law said Dan Quayle was handsome. Remember Dan Quayle? He couldn't spell tomato. And the Republicans keep churning them out. Although, in her beauty-pageanty defense, I think S.P. can spell t-o-m-a-t-o. With no "e," Dan Quayle.
So, after chatting with these guys (no amount of my talking was going to convince them that Sarah Palin was the scourge of women but one of them was a good sport enough to wear a "Joe" [Biden] sticker that I plastered on his shirt for most of the evening), I left to use the restroom.
While waiting in the doorway of the very crowded loo, I hear from behind, "Oh, no..." and proceed to get barfed on.
I was thinking, "Nice. Barfing already before 10 pm. And on me. WT..." Then she says, while trying to clean herself up and quit barfing, "I'm so sorry, I just started a new chemo this morning and clearly it is not going well." So, of course, I felt like shit for her.
I said, "Well, the last time I was barfed on was in college by my brother, so you're in good company. And it looks like you're eating well. Salad?" She laughed and said yes, she couldn't keep anything down. And because I had unfortunately had experience with ca from my first husband, I told her about those wristbands for seasickness and how they can help with nausea from chemo.
After she left, the woman who was tending to my hair (don't even go there), said, "Well, you handled that very well but I'm worried about your sweater." And I said, "Well, I can leave and have my sweater cleaned. She is still going to need chemo." Hopefully the ass-sucky chemo will help.
Anyway, if you're feeling sorry for yourself after the last week, it's time for a glass-half-full check. After all, tomorrow is another day. (Just promise me you won't read Bloomberg.)
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