There are two important lessons I learned this weekend. One: My body doesn't appreciate the amount of vodka tonics I present it with anymore. Hater. And two: A glass of Absolute vodka with an eensy weensy splash of tonic does not a "vodka tonic" make. Ugh. Let's just say Saturday night was...um, forgettable? The deal was my brother, my sister, our friend Nick, and I went to see a friend of Perek's open for Tim Mahoney, who is an awesome local musician who appeared on The Voice too. It was at a casino like 45 minutes away from the Cities. We drank, gambled (Prinna won me $40 on 2 hands of black jack!), and other sinful things. I knew I was in trouble, though, when I had the chance to meet Tim Mahoney. Prinna walked me up to him, and I shook his hand and for some reason proceeded to give him a hug. (What? Why? I don't know) And what did the Absolute-soaked Pharon say in the midst of my starstruck-ness? "Whoa, your hands are sweaty." Classy, you idiot.
Despite my stupid faux-pas (yet another reason I should never be allowed to be near even minimally famous people), the night was fun and exciting. Great music, fun people, free money. A pretty successful way to spend an evening, I'd say.
Okay, not that I'm dwelling, but allow me to dwell. I don't know what happened to me when I felt myself embracing a man I'd never met. Poor Tim Mahoney. It's like, I felt myself getting all up in someone else's space, and just decided to go with it. And even though I had a few charming, witty comments prepared in advance (for instance "You totally got gypped on The Voice. You ruled!" or "Is Adam Levine as cute in person as he is on TV?! SQUEEE!" or "I think you write some of the best songs I've ever just heard for the first time tonight." And then there was "You played in a band with a guy I went to high school with a zillion years ago and I mistakenly went to see you guys play during my first year of college, when I accidentally went to Malone's instead of Martinis to meet friends. But you guys were great!"), all I could come up with "Whoa. Your hands are sweaty." I shudder to think what was going through his mind at that moment.
As if to rub it in, I've been watching The Emmys all night, where everyone is chic, knows what to say, doesn't talk about how sweaty someone is. I have a very new respect for Ryan Seacrest. So far, he hasn't been pried off of any stars, or commented on the glandular excretions of anyone. Such a professional! Although, I'm pretty sure he hasn't put away 2 glasses of vodka. I'd like to see what he says to Sofia Vergara THEN!
Well, I'm going to continue dwelling on what I SHOULD have said, and SHOULDN'T have drank last night. In the meantime, I wanna say a quick Happy Belated Birthday to Geo! His birthday was on Thursday, and to my knowledge, no one made him a poorly-decorated, under-cooked Funfetti cake like I usually do. But he might be thankful for that.