Madness.

Donald Sutherland just won an award for....something. Call me juvenile, but I have no idea who he is. He just looked OLD. And PISSED.

Like when he mentioned someone and the audience started clapping, he got this homicidal look in his eye for oh-so-obviously being interrupted. And his only comfort to give to the losers was "I won this because I'm old. And that's how it should be."

Right. Like, because Queen Latifah is SUCH a better actress than Halle Berry, and that obviously corroborates your statement.

And Jennifer Aniston? Hey, sorry if you think she's "hip," but her being surprised when she wins an award is just getting to be....oh, I don't know, a little less believable?

She was like, "Oh my God, I had absolutely no idea I would win. This is such a honor. I had no idea. This means so much to me! Thank you everyone, especially to the cast for just being so wonderful! I love you!"

Which really means: "Holy batshit, another one? Hey Brad, honey: we've got another one to use as a toothbrush holder! Can't you people just get over it? We're friends. Fucking FRIENDS. Move on. And you other people hogging my airtime? Go to hell. I can't believe I have to spend another season with you fucknuggets. Now clap for me, dammit! CLAP FOR ME BECAUSE I'M FUCKING INJURED!!!"

Oh, and Lara Flynn Boyle is just soo much like a ballerina I could DIE. It's kind of hard to take her seriously on "The Practice" now that's I've seen her as an alien in the thankfully short "Men in Black II" and now as a fucking BALLERINA WANNABE. She looks like such an ass up there presenting.

"Hey, everybody. Look, I can be tough AND sexy. It's all about the outfit. You know, all heinous bitch-y on "The Practice," pink and girly on the Golden Globes, and you know, NAKED in the worst movie ever made!"

Can't you see that this imaginary banter is just a hopeless disguise for the fact that it's Sunday night and I have nothing better to do?

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So Friday was Winter Formal.

I was not looking forward to it, ebcause after all, being chosen for court despite my utter dorkosity can make one quite wary. Having seen many teen movies where teh nerd is chosen just as a joke and gets dog food poured on her afterwards just seemed all too familiar.

JOAN RIVERS: All right, we all want to know, Alexa: Who are you wearing?

ME: Well, the dress is a nice calf-length black halter a la Marilyn Monroe by Foley's. And the beret is by my friend Brooke.

JOAN: Wonderful. Let's have a spin, shall we?

ME: *spins around*

JOAN: Very lovely. And I guess this was your attempt at a French motif, was it not?

ME: I guess you could say that.

JOAN: Let's have another spin.

ME: *spins around and falls off the stairs, knocking over Joan Rivers and causing her to break her hip, and also acting as a human bowling ball, knocking over Sarah Jessica Parker, Brad Pitt, and Jennifer Garner*

Okay, it wasn't THAT bad.

But the dress was lovely. It looked almost identical to the white dress that marilyn Monroe wore in "The Seven Year Itch" (although I didn't find myself hovering over any air vents) but with some taffeta hanging over from the bottom, and a halter-ish top. Complete with red lipstick, curled newly-dyed-red hair, and a black beret angled all sexy to the side.

And I kept having to tell ymself that YES, DAMMIT, I AM STUNNING, and NO, DAMMIT, I WILL NOT TRIP ON MY BARBIE HEELS AND BREAK MY WRIST.

And I didn't fall or anything, but it was a little embarrassing to see your Geometry and Biology teacher see you dressed like that. And dancing, too. but to look over and see them both looking your way, casually chatting to each other?

Scary as hell.

At first I wasa little depressed that I was dateless, but it turned out okay. A fellow member of Mock Trial humored me and we were Honorary Dates.

On the downside, however, there were about a thousand people at the dance, crammed into a medium-sized ballroom, complete with indoor second-story balcony. It being about 20 degrees outside, and about 90 inside, and me in a halter top, it made for quite the night of hot-and-cold flashes.

And also, I have learned that dancing with gay guys can be very entertaining, when in the grinding fashion. They Will Catch You when you pass out from lack of oxygen to the brain.

See, the thing with that was this: I was wearing a corset underneath my dress, which, thanks to Brooke, was laced up VERY EXTREMELY TIGHT. And also, the music was playing at about 34539574 decibels, and I was trying to scream over it. Combined with being breathless from dancing all night, yes. Loads of fun.

But count on gay men to catch you when you fall.

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Yes. This was the stupidest entry ever. And I mean EVER.

© alexa

The counter keeps breaking and pissing me off, so NO MORE COUNTER! Mwahaha!