I am not a pageant girl. If we’ve ever actually spoken, you should know this.
I watch Miss America and do shots every time one of them says something that a third-grader should know to be false. Most of my closet is black or gray. I detest most other women. No. Seriously. CAN’T STAND THEM.
A few days ago, Iwas notified of an opportunity to represent Wisconsin at the Cherry Blossom Festival as a “princess.”
Yeah. I know.
That sounds like a pageant, right? And as we established, I am not a pageant girl. Like, at all.
I decided to Google it, just to be sure. I mean, it was a week in D.C. I frickin’ love D.C.
But it wasn’t really a pageant! It was really just a week in D.C.! With lots of awesome stuff that I got to do and yeah, okay, there was a big party the last night and I had to wear a long white dress and that’s ridiculous but I do love to shop maybe I can go to Zita’s and wear it ironically! And the rest of the time I was free to wander around Washington D.C. when the temperature was hopefully going to be slightly lower than the surface of Mercury, as it was the last time I was there.
(Not, incidentally, as hot as Charleston. I still have flashbacks.)
So anyway, I was in. I was ALL ABOUT this princess thing. I figure out a contingency plan for my sections,* notified the requisite people that I was totally interested omg!!! and basically started daydreaming about Monument Sitting.
(Oh. It’s a thing.)
Requisite people were totally interested too! And desperate. Like, really. Like, here are all the forms this is awesome just sign here in the next five minutes andohbythewaywedon’tpayforanyofthis I look forward to meeting you in D.C.!!!
Oh my gosh, me too…wait. What?
Yeah. Turns out I had to fly out there myself. And pay for eight nights in a hotel. But they found a hotel for me! Close to all the action! Four stars! Oh. Good. Because that won’t be expensive.
Okay. Whatever. In my head this was still awesome. I have some money. A little. But some. I mean, flights on Kayak were only like $400. And how much could a hotel be? Right?
I figured I should probably glance through the forms, you know, just to see if there were any events I didn’t know about.
Emergency contact form- got it. Totally normal.
Form that required a “responsible adult” in D.C….uh, first of all, I’m a responsible adult. Second, I don’t know anyone in D.C. Whatever, can’t be too important. So we’ll just kind of forget about that one.
Form that I need to fill out to be considered for “queen”…okay. That seems alarmingly like a pageant…but it’s totally not. Randomly selected. Oh, and the queen gets another trip! Two weeks…to Japan? In the middle of finals. Uh, okay. May have a slight problem here.
Escort form? Wait. I need an escort for this ball? Do I have to come up with him? Is there a lineup sort of situation? Do you have any nice Jewish boys who don’t mind baptizing their children? This is weird.
Head shot form? For the booklet? Like in Miss Congenality? Holy Mother of God, this is a pageant. I’ve got to get out of here.
Wardrobe requirments? They’re telling me what to wear? No jeans, no black, no nail polish, and 1-2″ heels. Well. That’s only MY ENTIRE WARDROBE. Oh! Look! Bright colors are preferred. That’s great. So I can ride around on a bus with fifty other annoying 19-24-year-olds in pink. Because that’s so me.
I’m pretty sure the next form would have told me I had to submit to a medical exam to prove my virginity.
Then the hotel called. APPARENTLY eight nights in a hotel in Washington, D.C. will run you about $1,700. Give or take.
I know, right? Who knew?
So. Um. Yeah. GREAT opportunity and all, and I’m sure for a large number of people that sounds like an ideal week but you know what? I think I’m gonna sit this one out.
So once again I had the crown ripped from my hands. *sniff*
*Colleen’s thoughts on my e-mail to my boss: “You need to make it sound less like you’ll be doing body shots off of Malia Obama.”