While at Lollapalooza, Mademoiselle Blondemess and I decided to drink 2 bottles of wine each and film a "Time Capsule" during the Chromeo concert, I mean, I am sure that is what every 7th grade girl wants to do, right? Film a time capsule with her BFF...shit yes! Awesome ideas typically are born from a wine, sunshine, a thirteen year old's mentality, and a crowd of 95,000 people milling around drunk/high/dressed like Lady Gaga.
So naturally, I was devastated when I couldn't hear the audio from my digital camera. I assumed that the microphone on my camera was busted and nearly hurled myself out the third floor window, and since I haven't connected my camera to my computer since the fateful weekend when Mr. Ballsy dropped the mother fucking L-bomb on me...then unceremoniously dumped me 5 days later...but I digress. Point being, I am super lazy about uploading my pictures- mostly because there aren't any that I have wanted to become my new facebook photo. BUT, today while a colleague was uploading some work photos from my camera- I (very excitedly) took the opportunity to see if the videos on my camera had working audio.
Brilliant, right? What could possibly go wrong?
So I am sitting there with two of my team members, intently watching a computer screen of my drunken face being interviewed by Madmoiselle Blondemess....I knew that I shouldn't watch it with people who are supposed to work with me day in day out AND maybe even respect me. BUT, once it started playing, I just couldn't wait to hear what winesoaked BS was going to fall out of my mouth. It was very literally like watching a trainwreck happen in slow-mo...you want to look away, but you can't...you want to scream, but you sit in silence.
The time capsule filming went something like this:
Me: "OK...so start asking hard questions...like really REALLY hard questions.(Female colleague frantically searching for the stop button...gasps heard around the world...awkward staring....face blushing....colleagues thinking to themselves "That's my boss...her? really?")
Mlle Blonde: "What's your favorite color?"Me: "NO! (hiccup) Bitch! I Said HARD questions!" (bloodshot eyes rolling)
Mlle Blonde: "OK, how about this one. Name 3 qualities that you are looking for in you future husband."Me: (giggling) "Number 1: Single. HASSter be singull! (hiccup)Two: Sexable and Three: Profitable! Hehehe" (mentally patting myself on the back for being sooo clever)
Mlle Blonde: "No way! I am not going to let you get away with that...be real! I know you aren't that shallow...be real!"Me: "Ughh...okee, fiii-nuh! (hiccup) Because, guess whaa?? Imu gonna git MARRIED someday! Fuck what mah mom sez...I am getting murried! (hiccup)"
(editors note: at this point in the movie, I REALLY knew that I should press stop...but good decisions aren't really my thing lately...)
Mlle Blonde: "That is true. You will get married."Me: "Ohh-KAY! So firrsss of all (hiccup) he has to be HILL-AIR-EE-US! I mean I never want to stop laughing. Ima gonna have AHMAYZING abs! We will never stop laughing!"
(inner monologue at work: aww, kinda cute...pretty sincere...maybe it is a good idea to let my team members see this side of me.)
Me: "Annnd...Annd....Annnd....My vagina is gonna hurt so bad because we will bone all the time...."
REALLY? In the office....at work....I allowed my team to watch a video of me drunkenly being interviewed a Lollapalooza saying,
"MY.VAGINA.IS.GONNA.HURT.SO.BAD"Are you fucking kidding me? I couldn't possibly be more mortified. I am supposed to be a fucking professional! Kill me now.
Yes...bad decision August continues.