rant & rave #42.

I've been stalking Maroon 5. I've even gone as far as recording Late Night with Conan O'Brien. Right, it's those 15-year-old feelings all over again. Soon I'll have a poster with Adam Levine in his underwear draping over my closet door. If you saw the show you'd know that the boy can't dance, but that hasn't upset my syndrome over the band.

Speaking of premature love, I'm in love with my writing class. For once I'm in a class with no goal except to have a good time. There is no scholarship office looming over my head or prospect of homelessness if I don't do well. To my utter delight I spent time discussing my characters. My scene has characters! I thought, "who are these people" and "why have I not taken a class before?" Of course, I could be a bit premature and in two weeks I'll be ranting about some bad feedback. But...

This weekend was my last hoorah; my last modeling event. No matter how much I tried in the month leading up to the event I couldn't charge myself up. Moments before the event I finally felt excited. The event turned out well. The fashion show was on Saturday & much to my surprise I was not the fat model. Not that anyone was fat but I couldn't stomach a day in the presence of women who can't be bothered to eat food. Fortunately I didn't have to worry about that. They were all superb, well almost.

There was of course one jack ass in the bunch. I think it would be too much to ask that you get a bunch of pretty girls together and assume they'd all behave. To my credit I have enough tact not to post pictures of her or name her outright. But if she ever reads this let me just say, Retire Your Fucking Ass already. You make us look bad, no one wants to see another has been parading her tractor trailer onstage. Right. And the next time you want to bring your 'designer' friend over make sure she doesn't offend everyone by saying, "I don't think anyone will fit my clothes they are all size 2's." (At this point my size 8 nearly 6 foot body wanted to MOO like no other.) Size two my ass, if I need to use a safety pins to HOLD UP a not finished skirt--it's NOT a size 2. 2x maybe, but not size 2.

Regardless, I has a wonderful time. Nothing like pretending to be in someone else's skin to make the day fly by.

Even though I had a good time I found myself in another self critical mode. At one point a high school model was watching me put my make-up on. She seemed enthralled by the whole process. All I could think is, "I hope she isn't idealizing me-this is not something I want people to remember me by." Seriously, that's not the legacy I want to leave. I'd rather be remembered as being a good counselor and getting someone sober; thereby supporting my decision to leave this nonsense in the sand.

Sunday was not my cup of tea. Some kid grabbed me during the auction. It was disgusting. I expected at any moment to be grabbed, duck taped and shoved in a trunk. He instead settled for shadowing me and smiling like he was hurting and I was a nice rock he could smoke up. The kid was about 15 or 16 but that wouldn't have stopped me from taking out at least an eye with my heel. Further proof that I would attract a serial killer if I ever met one.

I think my new tagline should be: Dannabug.com home of the retired Navajo/Jemez model who officially attempted to offend yet another human being.

"And all I wanted was the simple things, a simple kind of life..."
-No Doubt.

posted by Danna Saunders @ 2/08/2005 09:57:00 AM