I have to say I was excited to go back to Las Vegas. I hadn't been there in 7 or 8 years and Sin City always brings something exciting to your life. You would think with all of the debauchery and general craziness that goes on in Vegas that seemingly small things would slip by people. In this case nothing slipped and I got to seem like much more of a rebel than I really am.
The night started like any other in Vegas. My friend Carol and I had decided to take a nap after being up late the night before and being athletic supporters all day long at the USA 7s rugby tourney. Once we woke up we fought the urge to be old and watch movies in our room all night and we got ready to go out Vegas style. What does that mean you ask? Well I'm not exactly sure, but it involved showering and not wearing jeans with holes in the knees and butt. Carol rocked some white booty shorts and a black top and I wore some black dress shorts a black tee and my fitted. Feeling sharp everyone. We went to a bar, yes I have forgotten which one already but I think it might have been Hard Rock. We picked up a couple of friends of Carol's and were on our way to the only party we had actually made plans to attend. Val Griffeth was turning 30 and we decided we should drunkenly celebrate with her. So we headed off to the Palms and a bar called Moon.
I'm not a big fancy party gal. I like a good fire pit and bbq most of the time. Every now and then though its fun to do it up big. So when we rolled up to the entrance to this bar I was feeling pretty swanky. There were nylon rope barriers and at least 3 security guys with suits on. Big time here. I was just kind of hanging out on the periphery and Carol was chatting the guy up letting him know who we were with. He opened up the nylon rope and Carol and another girl walked through and I started to follow.
I got a hand from the security guard and "No shorts or hats."
I look at him, then look at Carol.
More specifically I look at Carol's ass that is covered in short white shorts.
Hmm ok?
Carol looks at her own ass.
She says "So I can wear shorts but she can't?"
(She??? He had never thought of this possibility.)
I say "Hi I'm Hannah. There are going to be a few gay chicks coming in here tonight just FYI so I might not be the only person that looks like me."
(This is completely out of character for me because normally I tuck my head and walk away. But I was drunk and Carol had shorts on too!)
Embarrassed, he just shuffled me through the nylon gates of hell and throws all of the other security guards a look that says "We have an exception here because I messed and now I'd just be a dick if I didn't let her through."
I'll be honest. I felt a little bit cool that I was the only person in the bar among a throng of dudes that got to wear a hat. Ha! Bitches. But that emotion was quickly passed when security came to throw me out. Somehow they were talked out of it, I think it was the embarrassment again. All in all I got to dance my face off with my friends and Moon the nightclub will never be the same again. A gay chick wore a fitted and shorts in their classy establishment. Boom Vegas.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Where it all started...
Everyone has their claim to fame. Sometimes its something simple like your hometown newspaper writing an article about your game winning shot. Sometimes its a bit more exotic like winning a bicycle on The Price is Right. Sometimes it is just something freaking funny that you have drunkenly done (ie branding your leg with your favorite rugby team's emblem). And sometimes its something that happens while you're painting your college hallways. Here is my story. It isn't life defining exactly, and it encompasses much more than this particular excerpt, but this is where it all started.
About eight years ago I was working as a student painter in college. It was an average summer day in Minnesota - you know, ninety percent humidity and mosquitos the size of a mallard duck. Luckily for me I was and indoor painter with a box fan. I painted a little of everything; hallways, classrooms, offices. I learned that everyone who walks by a painter feels compelled to talk to them. People always have to say something. I heard a lot of "That is covering up that graffiti so well!" and "Oh my goodness that is such a beautiful color!" All the while in my head I'm thinking about how the color is F-5 J-5 and we use it on every wall in the school. But yes, it is a lovely smokers teeth yellow.
This day was just like any other day of the summer. I was painting a hallway in the Family and Consumer Sciences building, jamming out to R. Kelly most likely, and covering the walls with our beautiful F-5 J-5. I looked up after hearing noise because the hallways were almost always deserted. A woman and her young daughter were walking down the hallway towards the exit near where I was painting. The stopped when they got to me, and the woman exclaimed, "Oh look at that color! And it's covering so nicely." She then smiled at me, poked her daughter and said "You see honey?...he's (double take)...she's (double take number two)...Everybody's painting!!!" Quickly she grabbed her daughter by the arm and hustled her out the nearest exit. I looked around to see if, in fact, Everybody was painting. Hmmm, no. Just me in a hallway. I know my English well enough to know that Everybody most definitely means there is more than one person involved. I guess "Everybody" was better than "it"?
I've told this story countless times over the past eight years. Mainly to my rugby friends who laugh really hard and follow that up quickly with another mistaken gender identity story. But recently when I moved to Denver and joined the rugby team I was greeted with "YOU are the Everybody's Painting girl?! We love that story!" Apparently the story had been shared by a few people other than myself and that is when I realized for sure that this could be pretty funny. So here I am now, planning on writing a blog about the gender mishaps I have had over the years, and lets be completely honest, the ones that will continue to happen in the future. Thanks for reading, and I hope that you can enjoy a good laugh at the expense of my handsome lady self.
About eight years ago I was working as a student painter in college. It was an average summer day in Minnesota - you know, ninety percent humidity and mosquitos the size of a mallard duck. Luckily for me I was and indoor painter with a box fan. I painted a little of everything; hallways, classrooms, offices. I learned that everyone who walks by a painter feels compelled to talk to them. People always have to say something. I heard a lot of "That is covering up that graffiti so well!" and "Oh my goodness that is such a beautiful color!" All the while in my head I'm thinking about how the color is F-5 J-5 and we use it on every wall in the school. But yes, it is a lovely smokers teeth yellow.
This day was just like any other day of the summer. I was painting a hallway in the Family and Consumer Sciences building, jamming out to R. Kelly most likely, and covering the walls with our beautiful F-5 J-5. I looked up after hearing noise because the hallways were almost always deserted. A woman and her young daughter were walking down the hallway towards the exit near where I was painting. The stopped when they got to me, and the woman exclaimed, "Oh look at that color! And it's covering so nicely." She then smiled at me, poked her daughter and said "You see honey?...he's (double take)...she's (double take number two)...Everybody's painting!!!" Quickly she grabbed her daughter by the arm and hustled her out the nearest exit. I looked around to see if, in fact, Everybody was painting. Hmmm, no. Just me in a hallway. I know my English well enough to know that Everybody most definitely means there is more than one person involved. I guess "Everybody" was better than "it"?
I've told this story countless times over the past eight years. Mainly to my rugby friends who laugh really hard and follow that up quickly with another mistaken gender identity story. But recently when I moved to Denver and joined the rugby team I was greeted with "YOU are the Everybody's Painting girl?! We love that story!" Apparently the story had been shared by a few people other than myself and that is when I realized for sure that this could be pretty funny. So here I am now, planning on writing a blog about the gender mishaps I have had over the years, and lets be completely honest, the ones that will continue to happen in the future. Thanks for reading, and I hope that you can enjoy a good laugh at the expense of my handsome lady self.
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