2006-06-21

Well, have started at Denny's. Yes, Denny's. If anyone thought people that were on Idol got any money out of it, they were dead wrong. In fact, the whole thing actually lost me money if you put in bus rides to Denver and what I spent on clothes. But, hey... I was on TV.

Of course, my time on TV was, for the most part, on the humiliating side so I'm not throwing any me parties.

Eh, would probably do the whole thing over, anyway.

Either way, the Denny's will allow me to work the night away, stay up all morning, and sleep the afternoon- leaving me time free to audition. Also, it will give me money to buy all those things I think I need. Like that bathing suit at Torrid. Like the new Nancy Drew computer game (which should be coming out soon and has me in a dorkish fever). Like season 9 to finally complete my X-files collection. And all that other boring stuff like bills.

In other news, my hair's down to my shoulders. This is the part where I usually start chopping it off. But I think I may just not do that for a while. I'm going to go as long as I can without pulling out the scissors. I give me a month- tops.

Hairspray? Didn't happen. The part went to a teenager who looks to be under five feet. Can't compete with that. Besides all that, I'm sure she's talented as hell. I'm looking forward to the movie. I think I've accepted something as well. I'm just too tall to ever play Tracy Turnblad. Every Tracy has been shorter than me. It just ain't gonna happen, onstage or off. Letting that go.

Anyway, thought I might finally finish that dratted Idol Finale thingamajig. So without further ado...

After grabbing free booze, I finally get to the dessert table. I decide to be temperate (the only instance of temperance you'll see from me for the rest of the night) and only take a couple mini tart things. They were good. I'd like to have them, some DVDs to watch, and a couple of gallons of Darjeeling blend. We could all get married and live happily till the end of our days. But that night I wasn't in dessert mode (rare). I like Chardonnay. I can't always afford it, so I wanted to overindulge a little (at least when it started). What was the harm? Bobby was driving. I could get a buzz going and sustain it for the night.

See, here's the thing, though- I've never had more than a glass or two at a time. I can tell with mixed drinks when it's time to stop. My teeth get numb. That's when the water or Diet Coke should start. With wine, I don't get these friendly warning signs. This is something I'll learn this evening. This evening that will be measured in wine...

Glass One:

I see Stevie and her sister again and chat a bit, informing Stevie that Bobby told me that a certain nameless, famous guy (uh-uh. Ain't sayin. Not my thing to say) asked for her number. She's amused. She glances at my wine and notices that I'm already a bit giggly. I assure her that I alway know when to stop (with liquor. As I learned). At any rate, I asked Bobby to Drive. Yay for Bobby.

I take my wine exploring. I go off to the side and find a whole other buffet area. This place is huge. I go upstairs to this fancy deck area where there's two bars, a coke float bar and two other buffets, a viewing area to watch the West Coast airing, and a room just for playing the new Idol video game.

Correction: This place is gargantuan.

Glass two:

While up there, I stop to annoy Patrick Hall and his lovely wife with my endless prattle. Not that they gave any signs of being annoyed. I just always assume I annoy people. It's safer that way. I inform Patrick that he shold have made top 12. Seriously, if he'd picked something other than "Come Through My Window," he'd have been golden. It wasn't that he did such a bad job. He just did so much better in Hollywood with material that really suited his voice.

There's waiters with trays of ice cream cookie sandwiches. Man, I could go for one of those right now. But not then. Just wasn't in dessert mode.

Glass Three:

I grab my third glass on my way down and go outside to smoke. I see Vonzell chatting with her family and/or friends. Decide not to bug her. I chat with this random lady I see instead. We discuss the buffet and people we've seen.

Glass four:

After chatting with my gaggle again, I go to smoke again. I'm getting into the really giggly stage of my drunkening now. Then I notice my phone is ringing. It's Bobby. He found a way for us to go to the next party. He asks where I am and, again with the air of a parent collecting their wandering toddler, comes and grabs me. He leads me to the other side of the club where there's a tiny deck guarded... by guards. It's Ace!

I chat with him a little, informing him about the Hairspray thing and how it didn't work out. One nice thing about Ace is that, when he talks to you, he maintains eye-contact and really listens. I have eye-contact issues. I also have trouble talking to good-looking guys. They make me nervous. Like they're judging me and finding me wanting. Yep. It's like when neuroses were given out, I took more than my fair share.

Anyway, Ace is going to get us into the party! Whee! We're out there with his family, Stevie, Patrick, Will, and their plus-ones. We form a line, security flanks us, and we're off through some back exit. There's a limo waiting. We find that we have more than they're allowed to seat. Ace assures us that everyone can go. Bobby shoves me in. Patrick and his wife follow along with Stevie and her sister and Will and his sister and Ace's brother says he'll drive the family over. On the way over I inform Ace that it's my first limo ride and thank him. What a guy!

We go al the way... a few blocks over to this Roosevelt Hotel place. When we get there, we're informed that they're not sure all of us can get in...

Dun! Dun! Duuuuun!

To be continued....

Because this was just the longest night ever.