HAH
my sedar was...eventful. my dad's sedars always go till, like, 2am...it took us about three hours as well to get through the first half of the hagaddah 'cause he insists on reading everything in hebrew and english.
usually at our sedars, everyone is pleasantly trashed, singing along, banging on the tables, etc. we only had 16 this year which was about 10 less than our usual crowd. and none of my friends out of the families invited (all my brother's friends) were there because they are all at college. even though i love his friends.
i sat at the other end of the table with my mom and aunt and my mom's friend who is an art curator (she has three sons - one little kid, one who was away at college, and another who was present, who is a year older than me, very awkward, and a huuuuuuge dealer).
enter drama. by the eway i am slightly hung over right now so pardon if this makes no sense.
so we were all nice and pleasantly talking about art and art schools and whatnot and my pretty cool cousin asked to see some of my photography, so i brought down one of my portfolios. she looked at it with my uncle and they oohed and aahed, so then they passed it over to the art curator and her pothead/X-head son.
some of the pictures in that portfolio feature a model who had cut herself very vigarously the night before the shoot. but it was a fashion shoot - you are looking for the clothes and not the model. and i did not edit them out because it would have been untrue to the situation, and because every other mature adult who sees my photos may react, but they understand they are looking into someone elses soul, and they don't say anything rude or judgemental. until last night.
so she gets through about half the portfolio and is all smiles and compliments and then gets to the first photo with that particular model and flips the fuck out. and starts yelling "What is all this? What is this?" and is making horizontal movements towards her arm...another 10 people look over and I just ignore them...and i don't really know what to say, so i just say "i know, it was bad, but it was the model's problem - she just showed up to the shoot that way and i didn't edit it out because i didn't want to be untrue to the situation..." etc etc. she looked so disgusted, and she kept saying "no! i think you might want to put something over this! because you know, people are going to...!!!!!!!"
THEN HER druggie son, who knew who this model was, as we all attend school together, had the nerve to pipe in with "Most of those kids just do it for attention, because they like the attention."
(and i was already on two glasses of wine and an all-day empty stomach and it took all the energy i have never.ever. been able to muster in my entire body not to yell "YOU SHOULD TALK? YOU DEAL DRUGS!!" but some sort of passover miracle saved my ass)
...then she flips to the next page and there are more. so she yells "god, you NEED to LOOK AT THIS!!" to her husband who is sitting kind of diagonally at the head of the table, next to my dad. mind you, her, like, six year old poor little son is also sitting next to her wondering what the hell is going on.
and she's all frantic, "look at this! look!" and her husband is noticing and
MY DAD, who was with me when the prints were made and didn't notice - who is completely oblivious to everything ever, goes (dead.seriously) "oh! what is it, tefillin?"
(and for those of you non jewish folk, tefillin are these leather straps that you wrap around your arm...)
and she's all "NO! CUTTING! it's like...it's like an eating disorder! it's like anorexia or bulimia! some people do it because for some sick reason it makes them feel better!"
and i kept trying to interject, but they kept going, and my dad still didn't know what was going on which was kind of funny (his next guess, after she had explained what cutting was, was "OH! it's a design?"), but i was really really fucking irritated and before i punched someone i just kind of yelled above all of them that it was "Someone else's problem, it has been dealt with, and it is their business. it is none of your business. it does not concern anyone at this table."
they shut up. and then i kind of got up and left for a little bit...
it felt like i had been raped...the woman reacted like an eight year old and it was the most obnoxious thing i had never expected from her.
we didn't really mention it for the rest of the night and everything was nice on the surface. i don't think she acknowledged what a sin she had committed.
anyway, the evening wound down when half the crowd left at 11 because they knew my dad would go in till 2am, and consequently after the fourth cup, amidst table-banging, my father blindly knocked HIS wine over onto the really nice carpet and, more importantly, a $300 pair of marc jacobs flats. which i then salvaged. thank god.
he admitted later "...Guys, I can't even walk a straight line!!"
so tonight we go to the art curator's house for seder. and my dear friend is going to be there. hopefully the ultra-smashed power of the both of us can be strong enough to not bring up the drug trafficking situation. wish me luck!
