*snivvle* The Apprentice is over. It's over until this fall when the Apprentice 2 starts. What am I supposed to do with my Thursday nights? Something constructive? Pish. Neva! Plus, Kwame (my main man, the one I wanted to win [after Troy got fired, of course]) didn't win! Bill won! IT MADE ME SOOOO MAD!!! Oh well, Bill's stuck working for Donald Trump's bad haircut for only $250,000 a year, Kwame was making millons on his own, anyway. He's bound for something greater, like working with Troy! Go Kwame! Go Kwame!
Anyway, that was the high point of the week for me. Oh! And I got my hair cut. Finally! I got a few inches off the bottom, but I went crazy and got bangs. Like actual bangs, not the wisps of hair, bangs like models and Jennifer Garner have. Thick ones. Actually, my hair looks a lot like Jennifer Garner's hair now. And it thinned it out, so now I can put a band around it! I have thick hair. I may, just may, put a picture of myself on here. But I may, just may, be a little too self-concious. It was fun, though. The girl washing my hair had my current English teacher when she was learning Journalism, and she kept talking to me about school. She was nice! And the lady cutting my hair was more interested in my family, which is fine because I don't talk much about myself to people. Or I don't like to, but it gets forced on me a lot. Okay, I really don't have a problem with it, and I probably do it much too much. But she's a friend of my mum's, so she probably knows a lot about me anyway. She was nice, and she kept asking me if I really wanted to go through with it. I told her truthfully that the last time it was cut, I got it chin-length and died it pink. No lie! That was two years ago, I let it grow out down my back. I'm always up for new things. But they had these mirrors that were wavy shaped (just like the kind that the Fab Five are always chucking out straight guys' windows) and wall-high. I kept noticing how pretty all of the workers were, just the way they did their makeup and hair and stuff, but they were conventional pretty. Conventional pretty like, hmm, like Jennifer Garner (I just saw her diary on MTV, it's the first name that's popping up now, so sue me). Really pretty, but in a normal way, you know. I always used to think that was the only kind of pretty, the tiny nose and high cheek bones and normal shaped and sized eyes. Then I saw myself in the mirror and realised how different I looked from them. I never, ever noticed what big eyes I have. Really big light blue eyes, and I've just never noticed. All the other girls had regular sized hazel eyes, and I looked like a freaky bush baby or something. I also have a Cate Blanchett-ish nose, it works on her, but not on me in my opinion. But I never really noticed how different I looked from convention. At the same time, I still didn't feel very pretty. I felt a bit like a bush baby with a Cate Blanchett nose and Jennifer Garner hair. And I need to go tanning. I really, really need a tan. Spray, sun, whatever, I'm tired of looking like the pale Irish one.
Oh, gosh. I bought it again. Mum just walked in with a coffee cup full of some drink, and I didn't know what it was. She, like, forced it in my mouth, and it was this really nasty alcohol that she mixed herself. Last time that happened, it was Bailey's and I had strep. That burned, oooh, it burned.
Back on track. Speaking of feeling ugly, I've been watching these pageants for my area, you know the Miss Inserttownhere pageant. I've never laughed so hard in my life! Once again, proof that modern dance is a waste of time! Oh, they look so stupid doing that, with the big cheesy grins on their faces, in their sequined skirts waving their arms like idiots to 70's reject music. Then there are the ones that sing. Or try to. Oh. My. Gah. No lie, William Hung from American Idol could beat these girls. I could beat these girls. Not only are they not all that pretty, but they aren't talented, and they aren't smart. One girl sang "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" and didn't hit a single note. I cringed the way through, and when it was over, I laughed until my sides hurt. Not a single one of them was any good. Mum, all the way in another room, shouted, "Are you watching the American Idol bad auditions again?" I said, no, this is the local beauty pageant. She laughed out loud.
Why am I not up there? Okay, I know I'm not the best singer in the world, but I've been told that if I had voice lessons, that I'd be something to listen to. Something like I have a nice tone, I don't know. And you can't really act for one of those things, acting being what I do, but I'll tell you what my routine would be: "Wouldn't It Be Loverly?" from My Fair Lady. It's one of the songs that I can sing pretty well, and I can do that unrefined English accent that Eliza Doolittle had. I'd make it fun with my acting, I'm sure I could do it! Plus, I'm six teet tall and skinny, so I could wear a gown. And I'm intelligent enough to not say "y'all" during my interview. Why don't I? Well, I don't know. You tell me.
Hmm, in other news, tomorrow I go shopping. Another grueling shopping session for jeans my size. So far, the only store that comes close is The Gap. The jeans there actually reach my ankles! But, they're much too big around the waist, and even belts aren't much help. And, lemme tell ya, I love paying 60 bucks for jeans that don't fit me. My hairdresser recommended Lerner's New York and Company. New York hasn't let me down, so I'll give it a try. Plus, isn't New York and Company Donna Karan? She's my favourite designer. Forget Pucci, Gucci, Lucci, and Fiorucci, forget Dior and Prada and Versace (as great as they all are), Karan's the one for me. I just think it's all so classy and big city-ish. I think I'm built for the big city. I guess I should be, considering that I'm going to college there. Hooray for Columbia!
The taste of that drink just won't go away. I'd eat a margarita flavoured jellybean, but I'm full. Did I tell you? My brother and I got a three-pound bag of Jelly Belly jellybeans. Holy schmoly, it's sooooo cool! Mango, frappacino, mocha, french vanilla, and even caramel popcorn (just to name a few flavours)! I'm gonna get fat(ter).
What else? Oh, my man Jon Peter Lewis got kicked off American Idol. He was my favourite. It's just not gonna be the same without him singin' and dancin' to Elvis Presley (my third cousin, thag you very buch!). I always pick the losers. First J.P.L. and then Kwame, all in the same night. Maybe I'm the loser. Maybe I cursed them by liking them the best. *slap* Bad, Amanda! Bad!
The title is via Will & Grace. A show that's not cutthroat, a show that Debra Messing can never get kicked off of because she's my favourite (minus the fact that she's not in the last few season episodes at all). At least it's a show that I can't curse (minus awards like Actors' Guild and Globes... sorry about that). This entire entry was pointless! I pride myself on superficiality.
Must go. Toodles!