Yesterday was International Talk Like a Pirate Day (as I'm sure everyone knows) and I, of course, had to celebrate. I'm very much a pirate. My ancestor on my mom's mom's side is the infamous Captain Kidd. And my name is Bellamy, as in Black Sam Bellamy. And my last name is Foley, which is Irish for "pirate or plunderer". Anyway, I decided that- as I had a full day of classes- it would probably be awfully disruptive of me to talk like a pirate. Teacher: "Bellamy, what did you think of last night's assigned reading?" Me: "Arrgh! It seemed that th' comedic style was jus' a mask fer thee underlying social and political issues o' the time, cap'n, arrgh." We are currently reading the Lysistrata. (Which reminds me *homework*). Messed up play from ancient Greece. Basically, women withold sex from the menfolk in order to stop the Peloponnesian War. Vulgar, Sexist, and Hi-larious. So instead I wore a pirate hat to school. Ahoy, Mateys! How the hell do you spell the plural form of "matey"?
...Back to yesterday...
After class I met up with the ever-charming Shananigan and we went to Goodwill. Now, I simply must relay the fascinating story of my wardrobe malfunction and reveal the secret to why I shall possibly never be wearing a certain skirt EVER AGAIN: It was a chilly September morning when I awoke to the sound of my mother's soothing voice shrilly barking commands from downstairs. "Oy, girl, git yer kaboose outta bed, ye mangy scum. Aaah." Choking back tears at her vicious reprimand, I realized with a start that I had slept through my alarm. By an hour! So I dashed outta bed (like mangy scum) and hopped in the shower for a ten-minute cleaning. I hurriedly dressed (as it was quite cold) and hastily jotted down a current event from this here computer. I was wearing a lovely short lace skirt-with-built-in-slip, black tights, a black tank, my favorite brown riding boots, a chunky oatmeal sweater, and my lovely and over-sized brown pirate hat. I looked dashing if I dare say so myself. And of course I dare, as I am QUITE daring. While walking from the SUB to my Anthropology class a kind man informed me gently that I was having "some issues". You know when backpacks cause your skirt to slide up your bum?
I do.So there I was, confidently strutting around campus in my pirate gear with my pretty lavender underwear framed beneath my tribal-print backpack for all to see. The situation was easily remedied and I simply held my skirt down when walking for the remainder of the day. Which only added to the ridiculousness of my appearance and my quiet yet poignant amusment at the situation. After class I met up with Shananigan, drove to Goodwill and found some bright (and lordy do I mean BRIGHT!) orange shorts overalls on sale for $1.05. Gladly I made the purchase and changed into them in a cafe restroom. The same cafe that I later performed in for open mic night, but I'm getting ahead of myself.
That, dear readers, is the story of why the heck Bellamy was wearing safety-orange overalls and a pirate hat.
My senior quote in the yearbook is going to be: "Take off the pirate hat. It's way too much with the orange overalls." Because there is definitely an air of mystery to it, yes? Well, there would be if you didn't already know the whole story. Yes?
I also had a knit yellow beret in my bag and put it on with my overalls and brown boots and asked Shananigan if I looked like a giant candy corn. She said yes.
There were alot of interesting characters at Calypso's for open mic night, one of my favorites was the nice drunk lady outside on the sidewalk who kept saying "you play that, yep. Be louder. Doin' good, girlfriend!" before being forcibly removed by her more sober-seeming family. Oh, drunk lady. No, you go girlfriend. Some other favorites were the coffee guy Shananigan bought a bottled water from and subsequently decided to marry, and the quirky fellow who played the banjo and screamed along rather odd lyrics. I decided that I would marry him. Along with the dude with the mohawk in my literature class, 'cause he's so cool.
I was the last act of the evening, and sadly my 15 minutes were more like 5 minutes as everyone else had been allowed to go overtime. Sad Bellamy. But I signed up for next week, earlier into the night, so I'll have plenty of time. Yesterday I sang "Lost in My Mind" by The Head and The Heart and "Jolene" by Ray LaMontagne (not the same as "Jolene" by Dolly Parton, though I love that song too). I also wanted to sing one of my originals but, alas!, I shall next week. Hopefully screaming banjo man will be there again. It's cool that my little group finally has an actual hangout, we've always said we should have one.
Today, was basically boring and the highlight will no doubt come at 9:01 p.m. when the show New Girl has it's first ever episode on Fox. I've been waiting with bated breathe all summer. I'm not exactly a TV addict, but I adore Zooey DeChanel (and her sister Emily, who plays Temperance Brennen on the hit show Bones) and especially want to see this show because the character is the only girl roommate in an apartment full of guys. And that's my dream. Ever since the movie The Roommate I'm kind of turned off to having a girl roommate. I don't know why... Besides, boys do tend to be cooler and more fun, in my experience. There are lots of wicked awesome girls in the world (me, my friends) but girls are often judgemental and snobby, whereas boys usually aren't. Fact of Life, readers.
Wow, writing felt good. Yay!