Memory Monday: Part-Time Model

My freshman year of college was oh-so-fun!  We would stay up till all hours, and do some of the craziest things.

During that year, I started to wonder where I would get the funds to keep going to college.  My freshman year I had a one-year scholarship to get me in-state tuition.  But I had no idea if I was going to stay and apply for residency (the rules were a lot less strict then than they are now), or...what.

At one point, I had a note up on my cork board.  It looked a little like this:

How to Pay for College 

sell a kidney on the black market

get another scholarship

take a year off and work

marry a Utah resident

convince my parents to move to Utah so I can get residency

rob a bank

Our school's joke of a newspaper would run help wanted ads, but sometimes I wondered if they were jokes.  There was always one for posing nude for an art class.  There was another for milking cows on someone's farm.  And the one that my roommate, floormate, and I decided that we'd actually go and check out.

The ad said, "Models needed!  All shapes, all sizes!"  Something like that.  We decided to call, just because.  We knew it would never turn into anything, but we were curious.

Between the three of us, we had the "all sizes" part of the ad down. My roommate, Stacy, was super tall and very athletic. She was from Las Vegas. The floormate, Becky, was teeny tiny-maybe about 4'10".  A lot of people thought she was, like, 12, because she looked really young.  She was from Fargo, North Dakota.  And then there was me-somewhere in between the tall and the short.

Becky from Fargo, ND

 

Me and Stacy from Las Vegas

We went down to where the "try-outs" were at.  They wanted us to bring a picture of ourselves.  Of course, not knowing how it all works at the time, we just brought little wallet-sized pictures, instead of big 8x10 head shots in a portfolio.  The "studio" was in the basement of some random building.  We walked through a hallway, and into the first room.  In there was a catwalk.  There was a really tall guy, walking back and forth on it.  He was practicing his turns.  It reminded me of Zoolander.  Then we went into the next room, which was an office.

The lady had us fill out all this paperwork.  And then she asked us for our pictures.  The whole time I had to hold back my laughter.  But I'm sure when she saw our "head shots" she had to hold her laughter back as well.  After we were done with paperwork, she began her interviews.  If you can call it that.

She started with Stacy.  She basically called her fat (which she wasn't) and told her that she might be a good plus-size model.  Ouch, right?  Then she moved to Becky, who she told could maybe model little kids' clothes.  Ouch again.  And then it was my turn.  She told me I was too short to model, but I should try acting.  Yee-haw.

What. A. Joke.

"All shapes, all sizes"?  They should have said, "All shapes and sizes if you want us to insult you".  Or "All shapes and sizes if you are between 5'9" and 6'2" and weigh 80 pounds".

We left, and just...started laughing hysterically.  We thought the whole thing was so funny.  Becky was all, "How about I chop my hair extra short and model 10-year-old boys' pants for JCPenney?!?!?"  And I was all, "Yes, I'm going to win the next Oscar!"

Good times, my friends.

I did end up getting a summer job at Zuka Juice in Logan, which helped take care of my financial woes for schooling (earning money in a legitimate way, and getting Utah residency at the same time).  I'm glad I didn't have to be a part-time model.

Memory Monday: The Abercrombie & Fitch Party

My whole life, I've felt very much like Josie Geller in the movie Never Been Kissed.  But not nearly as much as when I went to the "Abercrombie & Fitch" Party.  At least, that's what I ended up dubbing it.

For some comparison photos, this picture represents me.  Josie's nickname: Josie Grossie.

Seriously, this is me.  Always.

Aaaannnnddd...here are some Abercrombie & Fitch models:

I finally found a pic of A&F models that were slightly more dressed.  Yikes.  Bikes.

Okay.  So, it wasn't a real Abercrombie & Fitch party.  It was actually a party at the Governor's Mansion in Salt Lake City. 

During the summer after I graduated from college (2001-which seems SO weird to me that it was that long ago), I lived in Idaho Falls again, working at a hotel.  You know, really putting my degree to good use.  Although, in my defence, I graduated in finance, right after the whole stock market bubble burst.  Jobs in my field were a little scarce.

Somehow, me and my good friend Chelsey ended up in Salt Lake for a weekend, with Pete, his mission buddy Myers, and a guy I knew from drama classes in college named Dustin, who had been home from his mission all of, like, three days or something.  Maybe that's why we were down there-to see him for some reason.  He was from Farmington (the city right next to Lagoon).

So, Myers knew someone, who knew someone, who knew someone that had been invited to this party.  So we got invited to it by default.

There were so many beautiful people there.  Everyone was dressed in the perfect clothes, and saying the perfect things.  They were gliding around, chortling at each other's witty jokes, and having the perfect comeback ready.  They danced the perfect dance moves to the perfect music.  The party had the perfect lighting.  All the girls were skinny and had long shimmery hair.  All the guys had muscly arms and trendy clothes.

...And then there was me.

"Hey Guy.  Guys.  Guy's guys!"  hee-hee *snort!*

I remember trying to "flirt" with a guy.  I started talking about the bench in the hall.  I'm pretty sure I let out a few more "hee-hee *snort!*"s in between words. 

I also remember trying to talk to Dustin.  I asked him something about his mission-he had served in Zimbabwe.  I think I asked about the language, and asked him to say something.  And...he started singing some tribal song.  At the top of his lungs.  In the middle of the dancing area.  He was totally fine with it, like it was a normal thing to burst out in song in a different language.  I, on the other hand, was mortified.  Maybe I shouldn't have been.  But I think it was my own insecurities that brought that reaction out of me.  Like, don't draw unwarranted stares from the pretty people!  I'm trying to blend, not stand out even more!  His song was very Lion King, and I think in a different setting would have been awesome.  But not at the Governor's Mansion.

We left after a while.  I had never felt more...little.  And dorky.  Not that anyone was mean.  They were just all so....model-y.

We went to Dustin's house and watched a movie.  I don't remember which one.  Though, I think Never Been Kissed would have been appropriate. That, or Zoolander.

Open Mouth...

After reading this post, it got me thinking, have I ever said something that offended anyone, or that made me feel like a complete idiot?

Uh, yeah. Totally.

When Pete and I were first married, my cute sister-in-law and brother-in-law were purchasing their first home. They were in the midst of re-painting and cleaning and all that jazz. They were kind of mocking the colors the previous owners had picked out for rooms. So I decided to join in, saying, "Yeah, so they had bright red in one room, and some kind of celery green color in the other?" And they replied, "Um, the green is what we just painted today."

Yeah, I'm an idiot. I tried to play it off, like, "Yeah, I was just noticing all the different colors, it's so nice to not have everything be white..." or whatever I said around the foot that was now in my mouth. I hope they weren't offended, and if they were they just played it off. I really didn't think the green was bad; in fact I really like it, and half of my house has different shades of green in it. I was just trying to fit in to my new family, you know, building relationships, joining in the fun... Um, still feel dumb, six years later, typing about it.

So, have you ever said something so totally mortifying, or had someone say something like that to you? If so, I'd love to hear it! (This is the part where you hit the "comment" link below this post.) And if you're way embarrassed to share, share it anyway- just leave the comment as anonymous.