As you can tell from my not-very-cryptic message last post, I got the red envelope, the BIG red envelope. I got in to Boston University, alma mater of fellow remarkable people Martin Luther King, Jr., Faye Dunaway [Mommie Dearest herself- "No more wire hangers!!!"], Howard Stern, Jason Alexander [Costanza!] and a few QAF alumnus [Rosie O'Donnell & Peter Paige- EMMETTLOVE!]. I am officially going to college and Augustana's "Boston" is officially my new anthem. After months of waiting and chasing the poor, terrified mailman down, I finally got in and I am ecstatic. So ecstatic that my initial responsive scream put Abigail Bresnin’s puny “Little Miss Sunshine” yelp to shame; Jody thought I was having a convulsion.
Anyhoo, onwards. This week was normal, except for the insane Women’s Day Assembly [which, ironically, made me exceptionally ashamed of my own sex]- during which the Ally McBeal Clone did a spoken-word presentation of “I Am Woman” [HEAR ME ROAR. You know she was itching to go all Christina Aguilera on that one], which then sparked Big D and Mrs. King to belt it out over the loud speaker-and the fact that the male faculty members are publicly challenging each other in a Facial Hair-Off. Fontbonne is a freak show.
Obviously last weekend bombed because I was grounded, but so far this weekend is compensating for the former suckiness big time. Yesterday was MIKA DAY, also known as the greatest day ever in all of the history of mankind. For you unhip, uninformed peasants who don’t know who Mika is, simply, he is God. After school, I, Mallory, Michelle and Deidre [a.k.a Sex and the City-for once, Sarcastic Chree is not stuck being Miranda! I get to be Carrie! WOOT] went to Borders in the Time Warner Center to see the one and only MIKA perform and sign CDS for his debut album “Life in Cartoon Motion”. We had to wait a while for him to get there but the stilt-performers, balloon artists and magicians entertained us, plus blogger Perez Hilton was there, who has an awesome blue fauxhawk, a fact which didn’t decrease Mallory’s disappointment [she thought the announcer dude said Paris Hilton]. Then Mika came out [!!!!] He was perfection personified, as was expected from the Mika-loving masses [We are officially a cult. We listen to such high-pitched falsettos that would make dogs and the Bee Gees shriek, bow down to curly-haired skinny homosexuals wearing dangerously tight pants and consume lollipops in bulk]. He performed “Grace Kelly”, “Love Today” and “Billy Brown”, which sparked a crowd dance party and sing-a-long, although he didn’t fulfill the crowd’s desperate cries for “Lollipop” […cult…].
Note the "To Chree, LOVE Mika". L-O-V-E, people.
After the performance [during which Michelle screamed out quite possibly the most genius thing I’ve ever heard, “YOU HAVE GORGEOUS LOCKS OF…GORGEOUS!”, to the amusement of the entire crowd], we had to wait on line for three hours during the meet-and-greet to get our CDS signed. To amuse ourselves, we made friends with a bunch of people, including a duo of sweet gay boys, an Asian chick and a large pink-haired lady with about eight breasts and a mustache. The boys were Anthony, who we were all jealous and in awe of because he was uber-skinny, had a Mika-esque mop top, got the sexier imported version of the debut, and had an awesome job selling Wicked merchandise at the Gershwin, and Roger, who was a choreographer, a fellow burlesque gogo fan, was our quasi-photographer for the night and exchanged his info with us because he recognized our foursome’s blatant awesomeness. The Asian chick, whose name wasn’t important enough for me to remember, was useless except for pointing me and Deidre in the direction of food and inspiring a sex sermon, and the fat-bottomed girl was Alessandra who kept creeping into our conversations only to brag about meeting Mika the night before and singing loudly off pitch, which resulted in a temporary diversion from our newfound gay idols which made me hate her more.
Our lively conversation ranged from such gripping topics as Mika’s sexual preference [“He’s straight as a lightening bolt”-Roger. “Yup, gay as Christmas”- Me], prom, best canceled sitcoms [ZOOM!], etc, and involved book readings including but not limited to “Why Do Men Have Nipples?” and “How to Raise a One-Year Old”. To our faghag dismay, Anthony had to leave the line before getting Mika’s autograph because he was so late for work, which prompted our desperate pleas for him to call in sick [“Say Mika’s part of your religion”-genius Moi] but alas, we had to say goodbye. After a while the line started moving and we eventually made our way to Mika heaven to take pictures and get our CDs signed. He was adorable and British and charming and amazing and I was so awkward. I just said “You’re awesome!” and grinned at him like a complete lunatic. My eye was probably twitching from excitement. I am so attractive.
After, Roger taught us how to effectively do a squish photoshoot, then we parted and tried to steal Mika balloons but we were caught by security. Poop [we had also planned on stealing a Mika lollipop from the front pocket of Bald Man in front of us but we decided it was too risky]. Went to Mc’Ds [510 calorie burgers!] and was going to stuff our faces at Serendipity but Michelle had to get home so we took subway back to Bay Ridge, on which we performed a loud vocalized rendition of selections from Rent and Chicago to the annoyance of the fellow passengers. Met up with Mike and Justine for a little bit, then went home, where Glenn thought I was drunk [I was high off Mika love!]; rightly so, as I probably looked more drunk in trying to prove my sobriety. Now I am getting tortured at work once again. Seriously, how do they not notice my glares of sheer disgust and utter contempt? I am amazed by their oblivion. Must go. Ciao.
Quote of Yesterday:
Translation: Insulted lip protrusion!
P.S. This is why I adore him:
At the very end, you can hear Obnoxious Me scream "Lollipop!!!" like a mental patient.