I should probably mention that anything I say here on this blog does not reflect the views of Boston University or anyone who educates or employees me. Just, you know, FYI.
Last night, I had occasion to attend The. Most. Ridiculously. Expensive. Event. Ever. I was invited at the last minute because of a fluke, and I went because I have no life. The event honored John Silber, the former Chancellor of BU who is as reviled by some as he is beloved by others. I am neutral in this regard and attended the event for the food.
There was a cocktail hour at the beginning of this event where I was torn between trying to blend into the wall or hide in the bathroom. I considered becoming a heavy drinker, since there were six four open bars all serving top shelf liquor (I only know it was top shelf liquor because a guy was standing near me talking on a cell phone, loudly proclaiming, “They have top shelf liquor at the open bar!) Really, I would have retreated to the bathroom had it not been for several older gentlemen talking to me about my degree in geology. I said, “Actually, I study theology. But both are pretty rocky!” Oh ho, Adrienne, you card you.
Inside the gala event, no expense was spared. The menu cards, table cards and tribute books were printed on Crane’s paper. The salad had lobster, the entree was prime rib and the dessert was sprayed with gold. Sprayed with gold, I tell you. What is the point of that? You can’t taste gold. I guess it was just easier than wrapping chocolate cake with dollar bills.
I left the event at 9pm, before the speakers presented. (There were 18 of them. 18. Speakers. Yeah. You’d have to wrap me in some hundred dollar bills before I could sit still for that.) I came home from the evening exhausted from the sheer weight of living a high-brow existence for one evening.
In stark contrast to Adrienne’s Fluke Evening of Wealth and Importance, then, was a prime exemplar of a typical night with Adrienne and Peter that occurred upon my arrival home. I told Peter of my evening and kept shouting, “Dude, they printed everything on Crane’s paper--CRANES FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!” He, knowing nothing of the seedy underbelly of the stationery industry, was not impressed. So I gave up, disgusted, and retreated to using my computer. However, soon it was that I typed my way over to Protozoic, and found myself watching a video about “Taterade.” Peter was pleased, hailing the Taterade movie (in which he had a small part) a work of great comedy.
Basically, the movie involves putting potatoes in a blender. And blending them. Into Juice. And then drinking it. Usually, I would have just rolled my eyes at this, as this is an involuntary reaction I have to most of Peter’s creative pursuits. However, an interesting physical characteristic of mine is that I find the random blending of foods revolting. Sure--blend fruit, ice, maybe some wheat germ. But put potatoes, cheese, butter and water in a blender and drink it down? This creates in me a deep, visceral reaction of disgust. It always has. When I was little, the boys at my school lunch table would conduct scientific experiments to see what they had to mash together to get me to throw up in my lunch box. They were not cruel, they just thought blending odd things was funny. And a girl throwing up? A curious outcome that should be explored further.
Curious outcome indeed. Because what became of the little girl who was made to throw up? She grew up to be invited out to ridiculous parties with rich and smart people. And what becomes of the well-meaning miscreant that mashed up food? He still mashes up food with his friends because he thinks it’s funny.
But he also goes on to become the person the little girl joyfully flees home to after the party.
So very, very curious.
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