|be the perfect host/ess|
I spent last Saturday night with a bunch of people sporting straws stuck up their noses. Lying flat on a messy floor. Getting plastered.
And I’m not speaking figuratively.
On the (currently) clean floor, next to large white bags of cast and mold-making materials, sat a jar of vaseline, a big box of bend-y straws, and plastic garbage bags galore. This was decidedly not your standard party paraphernalia. (Well, not mine anyway … I guess I can’t speak for the rest of y’all…) And well, when Barrett pulled out a little jar of liquid body latex – complete with saucy, buxom vixen on the jar’s label – all were beginning to wonder exactly what sort of evening our host had planned. (Note: the body latex went unused, to the disappointment of some and the relief of others).
With an enviable lack of fear, a few bold party-goers – my intrepid fiancé being one of them -- ventured forth to submit their heads in the name of art. The rest of us watched, with equal parts apprehension, skepticism and fascination. I still hadn’t decided whether I’d actually go through with the process – the prospect of having my face smothered in plaster, and having to lie immobile in that state for nearly an hour, seemed like it might be a baaaad idea for somebody with claustrophobia issues. Better, I figured, to let others play guinea pig.