Look, I've fucked up. A lot. In a lot of situations, in a lot of different ways, some of which have been a lot worse than muttering "I hate you" when I'm incredibly frustrated and sleep-deprived. Mercifully, none of them are on video. And I think what I took away from this conversation is that people aren't wired to go back and fondle, over and over again, all the times that they've fucked up. You're really not supposed to. It's unnatural. You'd never get up off the floor if you did. And so some way or another of handling it emerges, out of necessity. Either you embrace your bad moments as high comedy, or you decide that anyone who cares about your bad moments is a loser with no life, or...you conclude that it wasn't really as bad as it looked, and it was fabricated.
Don't misunderstand -- I didn't dislike them in person. I liked them. I would have gladly talked to them for another hour, and it probably would have been interesting. They were friendly, and they were very good-natured with everybody at the party, and they showed up in spite of being villains, and they were gracious to me when they didn't have to be. And to their credit, they didn't take my least favorite approach, which is the "all of you people have no lives" one. (They may take that one in private, but at least they didn't take it in talking to me.) They don't blame the people who watched the show. Colin said he would have hated himself on TV also. They blame the show. And again, it's very obvious to me that their feelings of having been mistreated and wronged and betrayed by the show -- of having put themselves at the mercy of people who ultimately set out to screw them -- are largely genuine. I just don't think it happened that way.
P.S. Dear Mirna, I apologize for entirely dismissing your Napoleon complex theory based on my belief that he was not short enough to have one. Kisses, Miss A.
Exchange most commonly overheard at the party:
Person A: You know who's in the bar?
Person B: No, who?
Person A: Wanda Sykes.
Person B: [Pause.] Why?
Person A: [Shrug.]
Person B: Oh.
Lord o'mercy, Derek and Drew are some nice-lookin' boys. Initially, I notice them when SisterS says to me, "Is it my imagination, or does that guy standing right there look exactly like the guy who just walked past us?" I laugh. "It is not your imagination. They're twiiins!" I singsong.