It's confusing when you're hot temperature-wise yet require the use of a heating pad.
In other news, Jon Hamm was written on my Bachelorette cast list in invisible ink. That's clearly why you didn't see it there. I mean, why would his name not be among the others? He's my neighbor. We've had one on one convos before. He's funny as all get out and sexy.as.hell.
In other other news, I randomly saw Elijah Wood the other day at work. I say randomly because I was standing there talking to a coworker when I felt someone looking at me so I looked over and there he was standing next to a tree smoking. I said "Oh, hi!" and then continued my convo. Elijah Wood is not on my Bachelorette cast list.
I'm excited to be hurriedly planning a 40 hour trip to NYC. 40 hours is crazy, I know, but it's what I do. I mean, remember when I flew to Ireland for like 4 days for a concert? These things happen and spice up life.
I've decided if I'm gonna be there, perhaps I should catch a Broadway show as well. (I'm going to see Trust, which is an off-Broadway play ZB is starring in.) I'm thinking Mary Poppins or Avenue Q. That being said, I haven't looked to see what's playing, so maybe something else will strike my fancy. Excited to see some familiar faces too.
Mondays and Tuesdays are my dayside days off. I'm in serious need of a sleep-in so the timing couldn't be better. As a matter of fact that always seems to happen. I get through the double days fine, but definitely end up tired. Sundays are my Fridays/Mondays. Wednesdays are my Thursdays/Mondays. It sounds confusing, but it works. Especially on pay day.
There are several reasons why I will never go on The Bachelorette:
1. I'm not a whore. 2. I would never do anything on tv I wouldn't want my gma to see. (Let's face it, what would the show be without multiple makeouts, hot tub humpings, and fantasy suite overnighters?) 3. I can barely handle the drama and pressure of one relationship at a time. 4. I have a problem being myself on camera. 5. I would never want my overthinking and insecurities to be broadcast worldwide to millions.
That being said, I have an AWESOME idea for what my season of The Bachelorette would be. Wait for it...The CELEBRITY version. That's right. All 25 of my guys would be celebrities. My favorite male celebrities. How many times can I say celebrity? A lot...
So here's my list. I realize some of them are married. That's not my problem. This is a fantasy. I have also left some "insert heres" as I'd like a little element of surprise during the limo meet and greets.
Zach Braff Taylor Kitsch (Riggins!!) Seann William Scott Ryan Gosling Bradley Cooper Andrew Bird George Clooney Chris Evans John Cusack Dave Salmoni (insert tiger growl here) Blake Mycoskie (TOMS Shoes!) Zach Galifianakis (pure entertainment value @ the house!) Braylon Edwards (maybe insert professional baseball player or another indie musician here)
Married schmarried:
Ben Folds Dierks Bentley Paul Rudd Mark Ruffalo Jason Bateman Derek Luke
They're gay, but I'd love to have one on one dates with them anyway:
Anderson Cooper Neil Patrick Harris
Gone, but not forgotten:
Jimmy Stewart Cary Grant Gregory Peck
I mean, seriously. Can you imagine this group of guys in one house? I'm picturing the last three walking around in black and white. It's pretty magical in my head. Basically I wanna be entertained. Make me laugh, play me music...you get the picture. I feel like I'm probably leaving out someone I really like, but let's assume I mean for them to be one of the surprises.
PS Why did Braffers have to look so good last night on Jimmy Fallon?? He's making it super hard for me to not pay several hundred dollars to fly to NYC for 40 hours and see him in his Off-Broadway play.
I know! A new blog entry! I can hardly believe it myself.
Life as of late has been a rollercoaster, but it’s summer! And I’m about to be a new age! And I’ve decided that both occasions make wearing bras or pants obsolete! More bikini tops and tank tops, leggings and dresses!
"Rather than hold on to a broken dream I’ll just hold on to love…"
(I can’t take credit for the line, but I can fess up to having Alicia Keys’ “Try Sleeping With a Broken Heart” on repeat for a few days last week. And like a month last year, when the lyrics obviously made a lot more sense.)
But it’s June!
So I’m switching the song to Katy Perry “California Gurls” because I can. And because I love her nomatterwhatanyonesays.
Now the advice seeking part…Every guy I’ve ever dated I’ve known through someone. I mean, that’s how this thing usually goes, right? Well, lately, I’ve been considering other options…and I’m not talking the internet. Been there. Done that.
Which leaves me with chance encounters. Case in point. Today. Just now. At lunch with a friend. A brand new Prius pulls up. An attractive guy gets out, opens the back door to get his dog, and starts walking across the street. His loose scarf swaying in the wind, his tousled not-too-long hair not quite flopping, and his loose long sleeve button-down looking perfectly relaxed. The hipster de mes reves. It was like a mirage. Did I mention he was wearing aviators? Because he was.
I point him out to my friend (who confirmed his attractiveness), and assume aloud that a guy like that doesn’t just come into a place like this solo…he’s obviously meeting someone. He goes inside to order and returns. Still alone. The counter girl brings out his number and Diet Coke. Wait a second. Diet Coke? He’s obviously gay, right? My friend says maybe not. Maybe he’s a model or an actor. Neither of these things interest me so I poo poo the possibility.
Then we wonder what the next step is. (It should be mentioned here that said friend is happily married and no longer has to worry about these things.) And this is where the advice comes in. How do you pick up total strangers? Starting conversation I obviously get and can handle, but how do you translate that into a date? I’m on the brink of 30 + 2, shouldn’t I know these things by now?
Of course our first idea was to use the dog. But the dog abandoned me by sitting on the opposite side of his table from the walkway I would use to pass them by. I contemplated just sitting down at the table with him and being like “So how does this work, I sit down, say something witty, and we spend the rest of the afternoon wondering how we’ve lasted this long without each other’s company?”
Now THAT would be ballsy. But SO risky.And remember, I’m not wearing a bra or pants so that’s quite a first impression to make.
In the end, we left without saying a word. Chickens.
But a similar thing happened over the wkend while camping in Big Bear. On a liquor run at the grocery store, my slightly inebriated friend picked up a traveling journalist for me. I met up with them in line and she had him primed for me. She told him that I, too was a journalist…we shared some chit chat about romantic things like the oil slick that will soon surely float into the Atlantic Ocean and up the Mississippi River. He, too, was tousled, more rugged than hipster, but sometimes I go that way. Think a slightly-less attractive, straight, but work-ethically-similar version of Anderson Cooper.
And I’m not sure how that conversation ended. There was a likely-presumed-empty invite to the campsite, there was knowledge that he was staying at a hotel in town for the night…but I didn’t bite the bullet. And that’s where I fail, I guess. That’s the step I don’t take.
I can flirt, and enjoy doing so.A lot. Especially via text. I just need help with the follow through part. Let’s get serious, none of this info is shocking.
In other news, I have no movie or music reviews to post here. I haven’t seen a movie in WAY too long.As far as music, I’ve been listening to a lot of depressingly awesome stuff on Pandora…And I just realized that Martie and Emily (the sisters portion of the Dixie Chicks) released the debut album under their new group: Courtyard Hounds. So I’m downloading that as we speak to check that out.
Oh and yeah, how about that earlier part where I mentioned camping? I loved it. I mean except for the freezing part the first night. I love being able to get out of the city so easily. To sit around a fire chit-chatting with new friends. Under a blanket of stars that looks impossibly real. Unlike my last camping experience on the Colorado River, this place had bathrooms! What luxury!
There is something to be said for fresh air and no distractions or obligations. No schedules. For someone who now watches copious amounts of tv on a nightly basis for occupational reasons, I didn’t even miss it.It was refreshing to know that my healthy relationship with the boob tube is still in full effect.
There’s also something to be said for going camping with a group of people who bring things like brie. I heart brie.
We vowed to camp more this summer. To explore beach camping, which again, is SO accessible. We walked around and scoped out others campsites. We daydreamed over tents with doors and Airstream trailers. Yes please!!
In the words of Regina Spektor, “Let’s get a silver bullet trailer, and have a baby boy. I’ll safety pin his clothes all cool and you’ll graffiti up his toys.”
Ooh speaking of! My gma gave me her sewing machine, and there’s a place down the street called Home Ec that has sewing classes. I super sucked at Home Ec the first time around, so I really feel like it’s time to redeem myself.
Until next time…someone teach me how to pick up boys. Kthxbye. I mean, it’s ok for me to not wait for them to pick me up, right?
When I say miss Paris, I mean I've been looking at my pictures and remembering the good times and trying to figure out when I can go back and who I can beg to go with me. Because altho I love Paris, I love it BETTER when I'm not there alone.
Speaking of...(in a roundabout way)...as I am back on the hunt for what will be like my 7th Netflix address in Los Angeles, I've discovered something. My list for what I'm looking for in an apartment has grown to a length longer than my list of desires in a potential manfriend.
Apartment:
1. offstreet parking. 2. laundry (onsite if not in the unit) 3. hardwood floors (preferably dark) 4. upper floor (read as nobody living above me) 5. strongly prefer my own entrance to the outside. no more stinky hallways. 6. character 7. less than $1500 a month (yes I realize how disgusting this number is to anyone not living in LA or NYC) 8. I have a specific neighborhood in mind, a 2 mile radius that I will only go outside of in the case that I find THE ONE in one of my other 3 possible, but slightly less desirable neighborhoods. 9. gas stove 10. finally, I know it's superficial, but I really hate doors on a shower/tub combo.
The other thing is that in order for me to feel good about an apartment, I have to take some time with it and soak it up and (hopefully) get that "this is it!" feeling. If not immediately upon entry, definitely after sitting on the floor of the living room for a few minutes post walk through. Sometimes I have to bring a friend in for a second opinion or call my dad and describe everything in detail until he (or the friend) gives me the push I need to sign that little piece of paper. Leases...ugh. I mean, you have to be sure about these things. You're gonna LIVE there.
I can only imagine what it's going to be like when the special magical time arrives that I encounter my first house hunt. Like for a real house where a mortgage is involved. God bless that real estate agent in advance.
PS I know it sounds like I'm asking for a lot, but my last apartment had all of those things. Unfortunately it also had a lot of drafty windows and no heat. But it looked good.
So the list of qualities in a manfriend:
1. Make me laugh. 2. Be intellectually stimulating. 3. Be creative. 4. Love God. 5. Like kids. 6. Love me. In a way that would make it impossible for you to look me in the face and lie.
That about covers it. I could throw in things like "nice smile," "good arms," and "preferably able to play more than one musical instrument," and that would still not be as many things as I'm looking for in an apartment.
Now if only I could find an online service that somehow combines searching for available men and vacant apartments, I'd be set. Well I mean besides craigslist...
The real person behind the number you've been giving to all your creditors. It seems you've really got yourself into a financial pickle. The people from Kentucky call at least twice a day. New Jersey also sends its love, as does Ohio and a couple other places. I mean how many different debt sources can one person have?
Seriously. I'm glad it's just my phone number and not my entire identity. I truly am. But all the calls are getting old. And when I tell them I don't know you, I can hear the doubt in their voice. Like they think I'm hiding you or something.
I think it's time you take responsibility for your life. And your finances. Grow up already. And get your own phone number.
I mentally wrote a blog about how awesome vacations are. Those of you with mind reading capabilities know how awesome that blog is.
You know what law I love? The one in Oregon that prevents me from pumping my own gas. Yeah it's lazy, but you know what? It's also AMAZING.
Skiing is hard. So hard that we decided it doesn't make sense that rich people enjoy doing it so much. All of the prep and rentals and dressing and getting those ski boots on and off. I mean, I felt like I was birthing a child. Then you throw a slick mountain edged with trees into the mix? If I was rich, I would pay someone to ski and describe it in detail while holding a fan in my face so I could get the sensation. Then I would push that person down and say "Wait til your calves wake up tomorrow" as I walked away carefully sipping my piping hot (but not scalding) vanilla chai.
I mean, I can't wait to do it again. In all honesty, I wish I could just be awesome at it already. When at the beginning of the class I picked up random skills quickly, I told my ski instructor that Picabo Street was my sister. Unfortunately it was quickly exposed that my real sisters don't have the athletic ability of a Picabo pinkie. Well, Melody did some hurdles in high school, but that does not a Jackie Joyner Kersee make. It's like my entire immediate family was absent the day God was handing out any talent related to sports. And Matthew, winning wrestling matches by forfeiture because other schools didn't have someone small enough in the featherweight category does not count.
As a Katy Perry fan, I have a problem waking up to her doing Proactive commercials. Avril Lavigne, Jessica Simpson and Kelly Clarkson do Proactive commercials. I feel like KP is totes on another level. I simultaneously feel like if KP is using it, then I should too, because, I mean, look at her. My disappointment in her commercial choice dissipated a lil bit when KBM informed me stars get a million dollars to do it, and even Diddy's done it. Somehow that made it better.
I feel like I should check in with her twitter now. I've been so disconnected. Ok, she seems to be fine. And Taylor Swift is really enjoying Japan.
I just remembered something else to say here but now I forgot. I just looked at flights to Paris next week. Because a - it's Paris. And b - Swell Season is performing. But while I'm spontaneous, I like to think I err on the side of caution when it comes to complete financial irresponsibility, so I'm gonna hold off...
Having said that, I'm thinking about biting the (in this case v yummy) bullet and really spending some cash on a bed. I got rid of my hand me down version, which means on that day sometime soon when I open the pod, there won't be a bed in there. I've joked about wanting a Four Seasons mattress instead of an engagement ring, but now a part of me is v tempted at not waiting for some dude to buy one for me. I want an awesome bed like everyone talks about: "oh I can't wait to get home to my own bed!" A bed like that requires commitment and permanence tho, not two of my strongest personality traits. So we shall see.
Until then, I'm living on borrowed ground and counting my blessings. My taxes are done (and I came out on top), I'm sort of employed, I'm gonna see Peter Gabriel live in concert with a 52 piece orchestra...it's a good time to be MAB. Laissez les bonnes temps roulez. (Tiger, I'm talking to you.)
It's 2010. Maybe I'll blog more this year. I'm on Day 2 of no red meat or poultry. So far so good. I also ran yesterday. Or jogged. Whatever it was, it wasn't fun. Boot camp starts in a week. I hope the tops of my thighs have forgiven me by then.
So heregoes. Happy things.
1. I got to see not one but TWO fun-loving couples I know while they were in town. Being off on a wkend has its perks!!
2. While waiting at the Bellagio valet, the old man next to me answered his Iphone. There's just something about an octogenarian on an Iphone that I found awesome.
3. Being outside without a jacket on - On January 2nd.
It's my goal to pop in here with positive thoughts and things every now and again. Cross your fingers.
