<\/p>\n
We begin with a time jump:<\/p>\n
Several weeks flew by and I was in my dressing room getting ready for the show. I still hadn’t quite made a decision in regards to my personal life.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
Of course you haven’t. We’re only at 51% of the first book in a five book series whose only plot at this point seems to be which dude you’re gonna bang. It would be like if Harry Potter defeated Voldemort at his first Quidditch match.<\/p>\n
If I had known time was going to hop around so much in this book, I would have kept better track. Even if I had, though, it would still be incredibly difficult to tell how long these events have been going on for. It’s always “a few weeks” or “several weeks.” There have been no holidays or even a suggestion of what season it is, aside from the rainy season thing, which would put us in the fall when Larvae went on her bike ride with Mac. At this point, the nearest I can guess at how long Zindar The Pathetic has been in Las Vegas is something like six months, and I when I say “guess” I mean literally I’m guessing because I don’t care enough to go back and reread to find out because this book is terrible and even having a consistent sense of how much time has passed won’t fix that.<\/p>\n
Every time I would start to lean in one direction something would pull me in the opposite.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
Yeah, that’s your author’s lack of ideas doing that.<\/p>\n
The cards had become quite infuriating because they refused to give me an answer, which was something I’d never experienced before.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
Except for in the last chapter, when you said this exact same thing about this thing that has never happened before happening.<\/p>\n
The only thing I could think was that this was the cards’ way of insisting that I needed to learn a lesson about making my own decisions. I had learned over the years that sometimes the cards insist you learn lessons, that is what each of our lives is about, learning lessons to become a better being\u2013your soul can’t evolve until you’ve learned whatever life lesson it is you need to learn.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
The lesson you need to learn is how to make decisions on your god damn own, Lavatory. This is, again, crushed-velvet-Pagan bullshit, wherein someone’s life is ruled by\u00a0teh majihiks<\/em> in cases where common shitting sense is what is required. You choose the guy you like the most, the guy you get along with most, maybe, just maybe,\u00a0the guy you both actually think about and talk to.<\/em> This isn’t the universe trying to teach you a life lesson to evolve your soul. It’s the universe saying, “Maybe try doing the thing that isn’t as interesting and mystical and mysterious and just sit down and handle your own shit.” Sure, that could be a lesson, but it’s really only a lesson if you learn something. I intensely doubt that’s going to happen in this case.<\/p>\n
I sank into the director’s chair in front of my mirror and played with my hair and make-up a little, more futzing than actually doing anything. The show had supplied me with any and all of the make-up, skin, and hair products I wanted, and so for the very first time I had a plethora to choose from. I was even given every color of OPI gel ail polish that I wanted. Now every week my nails can be a different color instead of the normal black I always do. I had asked for every kind of Benefit brand make-up that existed and then extra fun eye-shadow from Too Faced in every color they make, and lipstick as well. It was more make-up than I could ever use, but I loved having it around. I was enjoying mixing the color palettes together to see what worked and what didn’t. I also alternated betwee the four different kinds of Sedu curlers, because I had fun playing with the different-sized curls it produced and then randomly put different moisturizers on from my Kiehl’s skin products, just to see what felt nice. All of it was just a place to put my nervous energy to use.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
*Cracks knuckles*<\/p>\n
It’s petty time.<\/p>\n
150 OPI Infinite Shine gel polishes, at $12.50 each = $1875.00 (Sally Beauty)
\n“Every kind of Benefit brand make-up that existed”\u00a0 = $5702.00 (Benefit website)
\nToo-Faced eyeshadow and lipstick, every shade = $4505.30 (Too-Faced website)
\nSedu Curler = $195.00 (Neiman Marcus)<\/p>\nTOTAL BEFORE SALES TAX COST OF FANTASY-SAREM’S\u00a0MAKEUP NOT INCLUDING KIEHL’S MOISTURIZERS THAT WE KNOW IS TOTALLY A REALISTIC EXPENSE FOR A GUEST PERFORMER IN A SHOW BECAUSE SHE’S A REAL LAS VEGAS OLYMPIAN AND THERE IS MORE TRUTH IN THIS BOOK THAN WE NON-GLAMOROUS PLEBS COULD POSSIBLY KNOW:\u00a0$12277.30<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n
A non-headling performer asked for and was granted\u00a0twelve thousand dollars worth of makeup and hair shit that she doesn’t necessarily\u00a0need<\/em> but just likes having around.<\/strong><\/p>\n
On top of that, if you asked me, “Jenny, which prestige brands have the most boring, least wild party times edgy makeup you can think of?” I’m probably going to say Benefit and Too-Faced. I mean, I like both brands, but…Urban Decay? Mac? Illamasqua?<\/p>\n
Wait, don’t buy that last one, they’re racist.<\/p>\n
But still. Come on.<\/p>\n
I finally stopped and sat back away from my vanity.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
Oh, how I long to back away from your vanity.<\/p>\n
\nI sat like that for a long time, anxiety washing over me, and decided I would try to focus on my breathing\u2013a kind of meditation, if you will. I’d heard people say that it helped them, so although it had never helped me much I figured I’d give it another shot.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n
If meditation doesn’t help, why don’t you magick yourself calm? I love these parts of the book, where the author basically holds up a sign saying, “Hi reader, I think you’re an ignorant jackass.” People know what meditation is and that it involves breathing. You don’t need to explain it to them. Or maybe the point here is that when Zipper focuses on her breathing as a meditation, it’s a super special kind of meditation that’s different and unique and better than the stuff other people do.<\/p>\n
So, while she’s trying to breathe through her anxiety about which guy she wants to date, one of them comes in. It’s Jackson, and he’s just stopped by for six whole lines of dialogue. They’re all fascinating, of course, like when he says “knock knock,” entering the room and “My band’s playing a late show tonight after work.” Liver can’t go, though, because it would require her to be in a scene with the guy she’s obviously not going to end up with and therefore the author can’t be fucked to give him a personality besides sparkling eyes and playing guitar. Oh, and because she has to do some work with Charles on a new illusion. So, obviously, Jackson is disappointed.<\/p>\n
\nHe rose to leave, but he bent down to run a thumb from the back of my jaw to my chin and kiss me on the forehead. I could feel myself blushing beneath his touch. He knew how to be so charming when he wanted to be, that expression about leaving someone weak in the knees, he knew how to do that in spades. He just oozed charm and charisma like no one I had ever met.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n
I know when I’m trying to describe someone as being knock-down, panty-dropping sexy, I choose the word oozed. Also, it would have been nice if the author would have oozed some of the charm and charisma onto the page so that we’d have some kind of proof of it besides our narrator going, “Oh yeah, he’s like totally hot, trust me.”<\/p>\n
Jackson leaves and forgets his sunglasses, so The Zegend\u00a0Of Lelda runs after him. Instead of finding him, she sees Charles and Zeb in the hallway arguing.<\/p>\n
\nI always jump to the conclusion that something is about me and so that’s where my mind went first.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n
You don’t fucking say.<\/p>\n
\n“It’s not good, that much I can tell you. I just don’t know how bad and what it all means”. I heard Zeb say, sounding worried.<\/p>\n
Charles responded in an equally grievous tone, “You know we have to let some things take their own course, you must let it go for now.”<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n
First of all, Charles talks like he just got transplanted from one of those Regency novels where the author thinks contractions weren’t invented until the 1980s. Second, “You know we have to let some things take their own course,” should be its own sentence, as should “you must let it go for now.” Third, you mean “grave”, not “grievous.” Grievous means causing grief. You know, like how mischievous means causing mischief. Fourth, if we find out what this horrible, no good, very bad thing is before the end of the book, I’ll be fucking shocked.<\/p>\n
They both notice Zart standing there.<\/p>\n
\n“Hello, Zade. Is everything okay, dear?”<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n
You’re her boss. Profesh as fuck, Spellman.<\/p>\n
Zardoz asks what’s up with the dire.<\/p>\n
\nCharles smiled and nodded. “Oh yes, everything is fine. Just silly magician troubles. Zeb, let’s go back to my office, shall we? See you later, Zade.”<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n
Just magician stuff. That should make you feel better, what with being in a show that recently had a major malfunction that caused a performer to fall sixty feet and clinically die. Don’t worry about it.<\/p>\n
The weird part of that phrasing is that he like, hired Zephora to be a magician in his show. So, “silly magician troubles” tossed out as though she wouldn’t understand doesn’t really work here. It would be like if asked another writer what’s wrong and they were like, “Just silly author troubles,” to patronize me.<\/p>\n
Larvae decides that this is something she should look into. Obviously, that’s not what happens. More important stuff is happening, like stretching her leg provocatively against the wall, giving Cam a chance to comment on how flexible she is. Then Mac strolls up.<\/p>\n
\nI bit my lip as worry spread across my face.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n
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