Charity Gala

A few Saturday's ago now, I worked a charity gala. They had a silent auction, fancy food, and a true live auctioneer later in the night. The women wore black and navy blue. The men looked bored and ratchet. It was a wondrous event.

The day had already started out well. I'd spent the earlier part of the day with The Mayor and Miss Sara Bellum, and their friend they brought home from college. I've told you before that we don't live in the same city anymore and they told me that they were bringing this girl home, I shall call, “Lisa Marie”.

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Now, they said I would like her. I was not so sure. I was informed that she did not eat fish, because of some environmental threat or something. Reasonable, yes. Obnoxious, yes because I like my sushi. The real kicker, though was that she didn't like Gwen Stefani's new song “Baby Don't Lie”.

Who is this bitch. That was my question. It turned out it was one of there other roommates who didn't like “Baby Don't Lie” and I actually really liked her. She is cute and adorable and we got Bubble Tea together. Everything, I might add. I even like those tapioca pearls, do not judge me. I just really liked her.

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Buy "Baby Don't Lie"

 It also didn't hurt that she wanted to read my article on my former blog. I've known the Mayor and Miss Sara Bellum forever, it naturally came up in conversation. Lisa Marie asked the pertinent questions of what happened. I told her there was a four page article dedicated to the whole thing if she wanted to read it.

And, she did. She described it as “intense”. That is about accurate. I only had a constant knot of nerves, the entire time. I should not be blogging if I couldn't convey some of that emotion.

 Now, I want to say I donated my time to this event, because I'm a good person. I am a good person, but I wanted to wear red in front of the wealthy upper strata. I learned in psychology you look the most attractive in red. I want to give myself the best possible chances of finding love with a wealthy individual.  

 It was not meant to be, but I had so much fun. These people were so pretentious. My job for the four hours, while the gala was going on was to clear the tables of the dirty dishes. What even. I loved it. I might add I got free delicious food.

This was a gala mind you. The food was the shit.

My favorite part was the auction. A weatherman from my childhood was the host. I hated this man. I swore I was going to punch him in the face if I ever got the chance. I did not punch him. It was an opportunity missed. He was undeniably sexist in his presentation and he had a pot belly. It made me so happy.  

One of the speakers was even the co-anchor on his show. She was this shorty, curvy woman, and might I add she rocked it. Then, I found out from one of my classmates that all of her cards had been declined at the Gap where she worked. The anchorwoman was broke.

At about eleven everything was getting taken down, but some people we're still hovering, so we weren't able to do everything.

That's when this woman, who's an alumni of my school starts talking to us. She was this sophisticated, glamorous woman, and as she's walking away, informs me that she likes my style.

I was shocked. How do you respond to that? Mind you she'd never seen me before, so she didn't know if I had consistent style, but she still said it. As a poor college student, I can't believe I made that impression. I was trying to impress my crush and this woman with the kind of money that doesn't wait for a sale tells me I dress well.

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Let me lay my wardrobe out for you. A cheap plain red t-shirt, black skinny jeans from the men's department, that fake couture jacket I got at the Salvation Army, and my dead grandmother's scarf. I was the epitome of ratchet, but it worked.

The director of the program I'm in, even told me on Monday that I looked good. I slayed it and I didn't even know it. Maybe I should turn this into a fashion blog.

 LOL, I'm too poor for that.

I will keep you updated on the crush. I'm in that weird phase of, he's all I want to talk about and the only thing I don't want to mention to anyone. I should be seeing him next week, so that's exciting. Keep in my mind that this is a horrible idea. I shouldn't like him. He's older then me. Too old actually, and I don't know. It's a bad idea. I keep telling myself that.