...doing some super gross research. above. And I may or may not be married to my dog now, due to some very intimate acts with a tube of Preparation H. (Which she REALLY seemed to enjoy. Sigh.) Then come to find out she does NOT have hemorrhoids. Awesome. Thank god for antibacterial hand lotion.
Who gets a strawberry on their elbow at age 35. Actually, who gets one over the age of 7. I'll tell you who - me. Granted, I got it yesterday doing something semi-heroic - Charlie wriggled out of her collar and was heading for the street, so I Superman-hurled myself at her and caught her, while also scraping my body in gravel at the same time. Good grief. And, might I add, ouch.
On Sunday I made a box of red beans and rice (cue my mother groaning, as she makes this stuff from fresh ingredients, not from Zatarain's). It takes 25 minutes to cook, so I sprinted to the grocery store thinking I would be perfect on timing. Well. Ran in after 30 minutes to find the rice slightly burned and the kitchen a tad smoky (sorry, Charlie!). So not wanting the smoke alarm to go off, I ran the pot outside to the balcony. Charlie started barking at me, so I set the pot down to play with her for a few minutes - figured the stuff needed time to cool anyway. Perhaps I failed to mention that I set the pot down on one of the plastic wicker chairs that the owners of the apartment left for me to use. Annnnnd the pot was totally melted to the chair. Like I could pick the chair up by lifting the handle of the pot. Oops. Somehow peeled the pot from the chair, but now there's a lovely circle of melted mess on the chair - plus melted plastic on the bottom of the pot, which I assume would start a fire so I had to throw it away. And as I mentioned before, the meal itself was burned - so a giant FAIL all around.
This photo looks creepy, but you get the gist of the circle of doom on the chair. Sigh.
Surprisingly, not for me - but for sweet Charlie. I took her to the vet this morning, and um she has gained 3 pounds since becoming a Stockton. 3 pounds. A THIRD of her weight. (Now a fourth, but you catch my drift.) The vet wasn't alarmed, though - just said she was healthy - but this could explain why the XS sweater I bought her wouldn't fit over her head.
Perhaps giving her 10 dog treats a day isn't necessary.
I love a good white elephant party. I usually bring semi-normal gifts, but it's always awesome when someone gets the tragic or obviously re-gifted ones. Like last night - I went home with some lovely bangle bracelets, while the girl next to me got a bag of condoms and KY jelly. (Not saying which was the tragic gift and which was the awesome gift. Decide amongst yourselves.)
If anyone remembers my bobbleheaded friend Diane Esparza, SHE was a product of a white elephant party. And once I got Elvis! the board game and a coordinating pair of those plastic glasses you get when they dialate your eyes. Just what I always wanted.
The dream, of course, would actually be to get some sort of white elephant. There's always next year...
I don't cook. I don't really bake, either. (Honestly - what DO I do??) But every year I do manage to make roll-out sugar cookies - and do a helluva job decorating them, if I do say so myself. I grew up making these every year with my Nana - of course, she actually made the dough from scratch. No way in hell would I do that. I wouldn't have the patience to let the butter soften. (Plus I don't own a mixer, but let's not go down that road.)
Here, a glimpse of the 2012 batch:
(Was particularly excited to find silver glitter sugar - hence the random gray-looking ones.)
Apparently I have borderline hypothyroidism (which I had to Google), and the doctor put me on meds to regulate things. No biggie, but I get a weird thrill from telling people I have "a condition." (A thyroid condition, to be exact.) Sounds so....fancy. And sidebar - I already know a bunch of other people that have it. WHO KNEW. Thyroid conditions - unite!
Yesterday was the Dallas White Rock Marathon. Charlie and I went down to the street to watch the runners and cheer them on (technically we were blocked into the apartment complex because of the race anyway, so not much else to do, but I feel fairly certain we would have gone down there regardless). Best poster (tie): "You look skinny" and "You are NOT almost there!" Ha.
Watching the runners made me sentimental about when I ran the marathon back in 1999. Yes, kids - this was before the dawn of the iPod, so I had a fanny pack full of mixed tapes (!) which all came unraveled as I started running so I was stuck listening to the radio for 4 1/2 hours. Alas.
Then in 2009 I signed up again, but my body decided to rebel so I ran the half. And for some reason at mile 11 I thought I only had a mile left so started to seriously pick up the pace. At mile 12 there was no finish line and I realized my mathematical miscalculation. Bummer.
But in the end, I'm definitely glad I can mark both races off my bucket list. And possibly never run again.
Just heard "Stay" by Lisa Loeb on the radio - ohhh flashbacks to 1994, high school (Lisa Loeb went to my high school, so it made the song an even bigger deal to us), and of course, Reality Bites. Such a classic. In fact, I may have to buy a copy off Amazon today.
Plus: Hey, That's My Bike is still the best name for a band ever.
Took three whipped cream pies in the face for charity. The only girl to volunteer. And I soon found out why. It's disgusting. Tasty, but disgusting. My hair looked like it had been shellacked, and felt like cardboard. And even after I showered, I still smelled like spoiled milk. Not sure it was worth it. (Although the photos were fairly hilarious.)
I love guessing celebrity voiceovers on radio and TV commercials. Not to brag, but I'm fairly good at it. Obviously the McConaughey spots are super obvious (and delectable), but there's Tim Allen, John Corbett, Kate Walsh and Julia Roberts roaming around out there as well (plus many others, I'm sure). Have fun, kids.
The Neiman Marcus collection at Target opens tomorrow. Which means everything will be sold out by 8:01am. I'm thinking this will be even crazier than the Missoni line, which lasted only a couple of hours. It sucks, too - there's a lot of super cute stuff I would totally buy. I guess there's always eBay.
I was beyond excited that My Fair Lady was on last night. I used to watch the HELL out of that movie (a 2-tape set at Blockbuster!). In fact - embarrassing but true - I sang "Loverly" (complete with a sad attempt at a Cockney accent) to audition for the Entertainers, a song-and-dance group in 6th grade. Made the alternates - not too shabby. (What WAS shabby? The fact that our "uniforms" came from Units, that 80s clothing brand where skirts were tube tops were belts. Ah, 1989.)
So my dad works as the tennis director for a Ritz club in Florida - which has provided some pretty swanky discounted hotel stays in the past. But as of this Sunday, it's now a Donald Trump establishment - The Donald bought it from the Ritz. Assuming my dad will still have a job, no more discounts at the Ritz. Perhaps I could interest you in a stay at Trump Tower?
I think my DVR is smarter than me. I set it to record the "Liz and Dick" Lifetime TV movie starring Lindsay Lohan (no, I don't know why) - and it didn't. It just decided not to record it. And after reading the reviews, I'm certainly glad it didn't. Thanks, DVR, ol' buddy.
Have the first of three Thanksgiving meals today (well, three if you count actual Thanksgiving). The good news: my stomach will be nice and stretched out by Thursday. The bad news: I will be huge by December.
More good news: I could always play Santa...
Not sure what the big deal is about Hostess going under - don't Twinkies last forever? Go out, by yourself a box, and you're set for life. Done.
If this is just an urban legend and Twinkies do in fact have an expiration date, RUN. DO NOT WALK. BUY A TWINKIE WHILE YOU STILL CAN.
Last night my two least favorite teams in college basketball faced each other: Duke v. Kentucky. (Actually, I'm not a fan of Kansas either, but for the sake of this blog let's just go with it.) They both wear the same color blue (ew). They both have uber-creepy coaches. But yet the lure of competition and the greatness of college basketball drew me in and I couldn't stop watching. Love. This. Sport. Even if my MOST hated team won. Sigh.
All this Petraeus business reminded me of the time I applied to be in the CIA. Blame it on one too many episodes of Alias, but I decided being a spy (and getting to wear all those wigs!) would be about the coolest thing ever. (Of course, I totally would have ended up with a desk job, but a girl can dream...)
So I applied. And received the application packet in the mail - which of course arrived in a non-descript plain brown envelope and no return address. So secretive!! I was hooked. Somehow I made it to the (phone) interview round, but that's where my CIA dream ended. Probably for the best, since there's no way in HELL I could keep it a secret that I worked there. And they probably knew that.
Lifetime was airing a Christmas movie marathon this weekend - and since my tree was already up, I figured I would check a few out. And each time, I made it through an hour before having to give up and turn it off. Terrible. Granted, they ARE Lifetime movies. But I think it's more than that. There are simply no more good ideas surrounding holiday films. Writers should just give it up. Just thinking back on some that came out in theaters in the past few years makes me feel grinchy:
Eight Crazy Nights
Christmas with the Kranks
And yes, I have seen all of these. I guess hoping for another Elf or Christmas Vacation. But why fix it if it ain't broke?
I leave you with one more disaster of a holiday movie: Ernest Saves Christmas. Which I believe I saw in the theater. Sigh.
Election Day. It's finally (almost) over. I took this quiz yesterday - turns out I side with the Green Party (?!). Too bad they're not running this year. It also alerted me to the fact that I know very little about, well, anything. Maybe I should watch something other than the Real Housewives and the Bachelor. (As if that will ever happen.)
(Side bar: What are "hatches," and what does "batten" even mean? But I digress.)
So Hurricane Sandy is headed for landfall, and I watched like 3 hours of coverage this morning. I know it's an "epic" storm, but the meteorologists on the Weather Channel are so geeked out about how cool and exciting it all is, It's hilarious to watch.
Also hilarious? This.
But I know, I know - it's very serious and I shouldn't joke. Thinking about everyone on the East Coast - stay safe peeps!!
My grandfather fought in WWII, so I've heard of FUBAR before and knew what it stood for (F*&#ed Up Beyond All Recognition). But why did I just learn what SNAFU stood for? I actually just thought snafu meant, well, snafu. But no: Situation Normal, All F*#$ed Up. Who knew. I guess one thing's for sure - they like the word F*@#. Can't say I blame them.
Somehow I have three Halloween costumes this year. I will do my damndest to wear them all, even just around the house. Reminds me of some of the better costumes I've worn over the years - and of course the best ones were homemade:
Winnie the Pooh, age 5: Halloween night, refused to wear the red "Pooh" shirt, so technically I was just a bear. With a giant bandage on my chin - while practicing for the Halloween parade at school, I tripped over a speed bump and had to get 9 stiches. Lovely.
Scorpion biker gang, age 9: My mom, brother and I all wore jean jackets with giant glittery scorpions on the back. We drew on tattoos (before the dawn of the press-on tat), wore sunglasses and gold chains, and my brother (age 4) greased his hair back. Fairly awesome.
Kermit the frog, age 17: We couldn't dress up in high school until senior year, so it was kind of a big deal. I rocked a green unitard, wore actual flippers (which were ridiculously hard to walk in), and a green skull cap that my mom sewed ping pong ball halves on for the eyes. Good times.
Although I try to avoid the "slutty" costumes, once I was a "slutty" referee. I only knew the touchdown and facemask hand signs, and kept throwing yellow flags at people.
And then one year I went as Tom Cruise in Risky Business. Lots of younger girls thought I was a one-night stand (sigh), and wearing socks (no shoes) to a bar proved rather disgusting.
Here's hoping at least one of the three this year will go over well - if nothing else, blog fodder. There's always blog fodder. :)
Defriended my first Facebook friend due to incessant political status updates last night. And it felt good. (It's possible I have hid other political vomiters, but this was my first real defriending.) And when I say "incessant," I mean 50 posts during the debate. Literally, 50. As if they meant to be on Twitter. But even then - I would probably unfollow on Twitter. So funny that verbs "defriend" and "unfollow" are now part of the lexicon. Then again - if "bootylicious" is in the dictionary, why shouldn't they be.
You know how some car washes offer to re-wash your car if it rains within 24 hours? I think nail salons should offer something like that - if you screw up your manicure within 24 hours, they will fix it for free. (Thought of this yesterday when I managed to mess up three nails within hours of getting them done.) Then again, it could become a vicious cycle -I could see myself having to go back to the salon every day...
I may be the only one who just doesn't get "Gangnam Style." When it comes on the radio, I change the station. Can't understand what Psy is saying, and it's just all around weird. Now, his dance moves are somewhat stellar, but that's not enough for me to listen for three minutes.
Scariest part about Halloween this year will be how many people are dressed as Psy. I'll stick to the safety of this, thankyouverymuch.
I swear to god, if I wasn't so addicted to Facebook, I would take a leave of absence until after the election. I just don't understand the need to air your political viewpoint/berate the other candidate in front of hundreds of acquaintances. That's what blogs are for. (Ha. I would never do that to you people.)
So I had to get a new voter registration card since I've moved since the last election. It's possible that when it arrived, I signed it and came thisclose to putting a stamp on it and mailing it back. (Back where, I'm not sure.) Thankfully the little 23-year-old at work (who has voted all of once) knew better and told me to hang onto it. I am such an embarrassment to democracy.
Watched Flatliners last night. Reminded me how hot Billy Baldwin was (is?), how much I also love 90s films, and of course how Kevin Bacon is truly in every movie. Oh- and the odd brief romantic coupling of Kiefer Sutherland and Julia Roberts. Awesomeness. Not sure if it's a Kiefer marathon, but Lost Boys is on in the next day or so as well. MORE awesomeness.
I have a serious road rage problem. And it's growing. I now apparently have supermarket cart rage as well. Went to Kroger on a very busy Saturday afternoon last weekend (bad idea #1) and was completely blocked in by a gentleman browsing the soups. I said "excuse me..." four times, getting a little louder each time, but to no avail. He didn't even look up. And apparently four tries is my limit, because the next thing that came out of my mouth was "CAN YOU PLEASE MOVE?!?!?" Yes, I definitely shouted. Yes, there were a bunch of people around. And yes, he finally got the hint. Sheesh. I need a spa day.
I had some bizarro symptoms last night, so did the only thing I know to do - go on WebMD and diagnose myself. (I either have anemia, a panic attack or whatever the hell Cryptococcosis is. No need to panic, people.) But I was most amused/mortified by some of the possible symptoms you can select. For example, for the scalp...
I'm sorry, COMA? If I was in a coma, would I be on WebMD? Is a coma even considered a "symptom?" I would say that's the main issue here. (Also intrigued by "craving to eat ice, dirt or paper.")
And if you really didn't get the title of this post, click here. Stat.
Watched Peggy Sue Got Married over the weekend with my mom (awesome), and we started talking about what we would do differently if we could go back and do it again. What could have been a deep, thought-provoking look back into my life....wasn't. The only thing I could think of was in 6th grade when a guy named Brandon asked me to "go out" with him (whatever the hell that meant at the time: barely seeing each other, maybe a group movie at the Big UA, etc.), and I said no. He quickly moved on to another girl who from then on was very popular with the boys (ahem) and I...wasn't. And still am not. I really do blame the way my life has turned out on that fateful phone call which lasted all of two minutes. Freaking pre-teen doofus. Alas. Still have it better than Peggy Sue, though - she wound up with a very blonde Nic Cage. So there's that.
Driving to work this morning, had to merge into one lane because of a work convoy. There were some workers on the road, working (obviously) - including one gentleman who was squatting down to look at something. Hellooooooo butt crack. A little early for all that - then again, it WAS the crack of dawn...
Not saying I went to bed early last night. But when I woke up to go to the bathroom, I assumed it was time to get up - I was that refreshed. And I checked the clock - 9:25. Assuming the clock had stopped, I checked another clock. 9:25. And then I went back to bed. Yay.
How is it October already?? This weekend actually felt like fall - well, enough that I pulled out the jeans. It's always terrifying for me to put jeans on for the first time since the spring (I do not wear jeans when it's over 80 degrees, which in Texas is the majority of the year). But thank god, they fit. Might be a different story after I polish off a few bags of candy corn, however.
Yesterday, I went to the Olive Garden. For the Very. First. Time. And yes, I totally got the all-you-can-eat soup/salad/breadsticks awesomeness. It's possible that I'm a sucker for the "all-you-can-eat." So American. So great.
I love how some songs are like little 3-minute time machines, taking you back to some moment in the past. This morning, that song was "I Remember You" by Skid Row. Ah, 1989. It was an unfortunate time - bad fashion, bad hair, and at 12, I was in the thick of it. Hearing this song on the radio this morning transported me back to wearing foldover acid wash jeans and some sort of sweater from 5-7-9.
Seriously - I think these were the jeans:
But man - Sebastian Bach was awesome. He was on Gilmore Girls for a while and I really still love him. The jeans, not so much.
"Breaking Amish" is fantastic. 5 young Amish people (excuse me - 4 Amish and a Mennonite. Which sounds like the beginning of a joke.) decide to go to New York to see what life in the big city is like. Also, what electricity is like. What a genius premise.
Seeing them try new things is part of the awesomeness - flying on a plane! Wearing sunglasses! Eating sushi! Dressing "English," which for the guys apparently means dressing like white rappers from the 90s! Learning to drive! (One of their dreams is to be a cab driver. Aw.) But quick question: if the Amish refuse to have their photos taken and don't drive, how do they board planes? Maybe they have a Passport? But still - there's a Passport photo...scandalous.
One bone I have to pick: apparently one of the girls wears fake teeth which she takes out at night. The others discovered this - but never bring it up! That's all this show needs - an Amish cat fight.
Aw. Little Charlie has kennel cough. Which is apparently super contagious - we had to leave through the back door of the vet. Ouch. Actually, I've been a little sniffly lately myself - maybe I caught it. Wouldn't that be such an awesome excuse to get out of work? "I can't come in today - I have kennel cough." I'll let y'all know how that goes over.
I adopted this sweet 9-lb furball on Friday. The shelter was so crowded, dogs were only $25 (normally $80) and cats were only $15. As a discount shopper myself, I could not be more excited by my purchase. She is the sweetest thing who just wants her tummy rubbed. (Who doesn't?) And once she's able to get a bath/groomed next Sunday (at 9am, but who's counting), I think she'll look even more adorable than she does now. But yes, I may be biased.
I never win anything. (Granted, I never really TRY to win anything, because I assume I won't - i.e. buying lottery tickets.) A friend recently won a trip for four to the Four Seasons in Maui - now THAT'S my kind of prize. But this week, I won something. I put my business card into a fishbowl contest last week, and they picked me! It's a sad little something, but I guess it counts as a prize: a $50 fun card to Main Event. Which I guess means $50 of video games? Maybe laser tag? Not a big fan of any of that stuff, but hey. $50 is $50. Anyone for air hockey?
Wearing new pants today. Didn't notice until I got to my desk that, although I removed the tags, I failed to remove the giant sticker running down my thigh that announces what size I have on. And I have already been to get coffee. In public. Thank god it's still early at work and no one else has seen what size pants I wear. Nobody needs to know.
I'm not the most adventurous when it comes to food. I basically eat the same thing every night - why fix it if it ain't broke? So I never thought I would be a sushi person. I mean - it's raw. Fish. Ew. The first time I ever tried it was in New York back in like 1999. We went to some fancy restaurant that served smores you cooked on your table (awesome), and sushi, apparently. An odd combination, but hey - it's New York. They can do whatever they want. I guess it was a California roll that I tried, but I was so nervous that I would gag that I drenched it in soy sauce and that's all I tasted. (Fine by me)
In recent years, I've eaten it more - still can't stomach sashimi, but I have moved beyond mere California rolls (which are like the lamest of the rolls, according to sushi connoisseurs) - hell, I've even had sake. But last week I ventured into unknown territory - the dreaded tuna tower. I had only seen one once, and to be honest, it looked like someone had already chewed it up and spit it back out. (Sorry.) But my friend ordered it for us, so I thought I might as well take a chance. And who knew - it was delicious. Not exactly pretty to look at, but soooo tasty. I think I might have a new favorite. California who?
I may be a devoted Bachelor/Bachelorette/Bachelor Pad viewer, but I draw the line at shows like The Voice, American Idol, America's Got Talent, etc. HOWEVER. With the addition of a Miss Britney Spears as a judge, hell yes I tuned in to the X Factor last night. Love me some Britney. And loved that the producers lumped together a bunch of clips of her telling people how terrible they were, etc. - and capping it off with an "it's Britney, bitch." GENIUS.
Also genius? Playing Backstreet Boys when a former (European) boy bander auditioned. Nice work, producers. I might actually tune in for another round. Gotta have something to keep me occupied until the next Bachelor starts...
And how great is this picture? You can even see the Pepsi! Nice work, product placement team.
Oh, Jessica Simpson. Saw her on Katie Couric's new show (which could be another blog post of its own), and granted, girl has lost some weight. Who wouldn't, if they were getting a $4 million payday from Weight Watchers? Looking good, especially for someone who admitted the only time she ate fish growing up was in fish sticks. Yay Texas.
But I also saw her WW commercial, and I find it verrrrry interesting that it's a close-up of her face the entire time. No body shot. Now, she claims this is because it's more about the feeling than the weight. I disagree. C'mon, Jess. Give the people what they want.
And now, the Bachelor Pad finale recap. Hooooooly shocking ending, sports fans! But first, I would like to take a moment to acknowledge all of the emails and texts I've been getting on Mondays from friends who are equally as obsessed with BP as I am. It warms my heart.
But back to the jaw-dropping finale. (Literally. My jaw DROPPED.) Some thoughts:
Love that the "super fans" were not called on at all - I literally saw the twins for about a half a second. (Thanks, ABC.)
What was Jamie wearing?? She looked like Cleopatra crossed with Jem (were those STAR STICKERS on her face??)
Lindzi and Kalon are still together. Kinda surprised by that. And nice work by Erica Rose on telling Lindzi she's seen him out with other girls. On live TV.
Also kinda surprised that Blakely and Tony are still together. And moving in together. And....getting engaged on national TV! (Thanks, Neil Lane) Maybe her days of VIP cocktailing and waxing (aka Hooters) are finally behind her?
Michael Stagliano. Kind of douchey, as it turns out. Not in it for love at all, although Rachel was unaware of that. And interesting that Jaclyn knew ALL about the situation - guess her "Rachel is dead to me!" was just a moment of weakness last week?
Then it comes down to the two final couples: Rachel and Nick and Chris and Sarah. Interesting ploy by Chris to say "Don't vote for me! (Vote for Sarah.)" But it didn't work - Rachel and Nick won by a landslide. But wait. There's more.
Now they have to choose whether to share the $250,000 or keep it for themselves. If they both pick "keep," the money gets split among all the housemates. Rachel and Nick do their best "I'm weighing the choices and it's really really hard" acting jobs in the soundproof rooms, and then it's time to reveal their choices. Rachel picks "share." And Nick, in a Most Shocking Move, opts to KEEP the money for himself!!! (Cue jaw drop.) I kind of have to give him credit - he spoke more words during these 3 minutes than he spoke all season, and honestly made some good points. He totally screwed Rachel over, but he really didn't owe her anything and she didn't want to be his partner anyway...brilliant. Well-played, sir. • Rachel wigs out, calls him a f&%@ing schmuck (?!) and even follows him backstage to yell at him. He doesn't give a rat's ass at that point, and in the exit limo sums it up with "BP3. Anything goes."
And....scene. Damn. What in the world am I going to do on Monday nights now.
I've probably already blogged about my own September 11 experience before, but I think about it every year on the anniversary, so before delving into what you really want to read - Bachelor Pad Recap! - please indulge me for a minute.
It was my first day of grad school in Boston. Ironically, I had just been in NYC the weekend before for the US Open, and I remember seeing the skyline of the city and being so enthralled. But back to Boston. For some reason I woke up an hour early, so after working out and getting ready for class I was listening to the radio, and that's when I heard about the first plane. It was believed to be an accident at that point, but I was curious and turned on the TV just in time to see the second plane hit. One roommate had already gone to work, but I got the other one out of the bathroom and said, "you need to come see this."
We sat watching in shock/horror for a while, and then didn't know what else to do, so I went to class. Of course, that's all anyone on the bus/subway was talking about - rumors running rampant that there was a fifth plane, etc. Since two of the planes left from Boston, the city was being evacuated by the time I got downtown, so of course there was no school. So I turned around and came home. All public transportation was free, and I remember seeing a sign in the window of a Gap that said "Closed due to attack on America." I think that's when I knew things would never be the same.
That semester was an interesting time to be a journalism student - every single story we did was about the attacks. Or anthrax. Or the firefighters. It was draining, to be sure - but I will certainly never forget.
I finally sucked it up and took a spin class on Monday. Wanted to see what all the hype was about. And I have to say: meh. I found it to be super boring. Yes, I sweated my a** off, but could we not find some better scenery than the person's back in front of me? Yawn. Plus the fact that the same people go every day (dear god, no thank you), so they get wary of anyone they don't know. I was afraid of stealing someone's bike, so I squished myself into the very back corner where I couldn't have gotten out even if I had wanted to. And I DID want to. Oddly enough I don't find the elliptical or treadmill boring. I guess because I can read a magazine, watch tv, SOMETHING other than stare at the clock in utter shock that only 8 minutes have gone by. Sorry spinners. I'm spent. (see what I did there?)
Full disclosure: I get my hair highlighted. It's not this blonde all by itself. But you know what else it isn't? BROWN. Before my last appointment (which may or may not have been a week or two late, and my roots may or may not have been fairly gross and very obvious), I had TWO people call me out on being a brunette.
One girl told me my hair would look good brown, like my roots (what?!). Another guy asked me when was the last time I was a brunette. Um, NEVER?! (No offense to the gorge brunettes out there.)
So I sprinted to the salon to reassure any doubters that my hair is not, in fact, brown. Full disclosure again: it's actually red. (The horror! No offense to the gorge redheads out there either.) And maybe someday I'll go back. But I certainly won't be going brown.
Just when you think Bachelor Pad can't get any better (or was that just me?), they throw in having to perform "Sister Christian" live in front of an audience of tens (seriously - they paid these people to be in the crowd, yes?) and be judged by none other than Night Ranger. Yesssssss.
Hearing the song so many times, it's possible I may have belted it out in the shower this morning. My attempt went about as well as the three final couples - pitchy, but an A for effort. Particularly for the last-minute couple of Nick and Rachel, who totally rocked it. Ed and Jaclyn were a hot mess (standard for Ed this season), and Sarah and Chris...best description came from Jaclyn, who thought Sarah was either dancing or having a serious health crisis. I'll go with the latter.
The best line of the night, however, came from host Chris Harrison. Night Ranger (I address the entire band, as I have no idea who's who) asked, "are they going to be able to do this?" To which Chris responds, "oh, they'll be terrible." Love him.
But Nick and Rachel pull off the win, giving them the power to decide which couple would join them in the finale, competing for $250,000. In the Most Dramatic Rose Ceremony Ever, they went with the logical, if not very nice, choice of Sarah and Chris, knowing everyone hates them and would rather N and R won the money. Well, not everyone. Jaclyn was PISSED - threw out a "she's dead to me" and everything. Would be such an amazeballs twist if she poisoned all the other contestants and got them to vote for Chris and Sarah. Just sayin'. Good TV right there.
It's true. (It's truuuuuuuuuuue, yeah!)
God I can't stop singing this song.
Another day, another trip to the car dealership. Yesterday ANOTHER window died, so I get to take my car in for the second time this week. Fun times. I think I'll make them check all the other windows as well while I'm there - as fun as the waiting room at Huffines is, there are actually other things I would rather be doing. Shocking, yes. At least it's not raining - that garbage bag situation was almost more than I could handle.
Saw the Indigo Girls last night. They sang a bunch of old songs (including a rousing rendition of "Closer to Fine," which they had the audience stand up and sing along to), and some new ones. But coolest of all, they were backed up by the Dallas Symphony Orchestra - and a female conductor. Not sure if I missed the memo that we had a woman leading the band (I'm sure they love being called a "band") - but it was awesome. She was so tiny and cute and was obviously having a helluva time up there.
Seeing her reminded me of my secret dream: to be the first female referee in the NFL. Not that I follow the NFL very much or even know anything about refereeing besides yelling "touchdown!" and throwing in an occasional "face mask! 5 yard penalty!" Plus, the uniforms (um, typed "outfits" first) are fug. No - for me, it's more about having my voice blared throughout the stadium and on national television.
However, I will no longer be the first. Dammit. Maybe the NBA could use me.
Hurricane Isaac did this to my dad's neighborhood in Florida:
As it continues to pummel New Orleans, I am reminded of my own experiences with hurricanes and tornados (much more common in Texas)...
In elementary school, we would have tornado drills, which I guess were similar to the "duck and cover" drills in the 60s - basically, get in the hall and duck and cover. Never had to use it, thank goodness - but I do remember a tornado coming through Dallas when I was little. My mom made us get into the hallway, close all the doors, and watch the little black and white tv for more information. We ate breakfast for dinner (yay!) and it was really more of a game than anything scary. Don't even think the power went out, so it must not have been too disastrous.
Hurricane Fran hit North Carolina when I was in college down there. I think some of my sorority sisters lost beach homes, but to me it was an excuse for "hurricane parties" and road trips because there was no power and we weren't supposed to use the water. I believe there were even some Hurricane Fran t-shirts printed up. Just sayin'.
Watching these poor reporters standing out in rain that is coming down sideways, barely able to stand because the winds are so strong, makes me glad I never found a job as a tv reporter. I mean, yes, you're on TV. But you look like crap and are seriously endangering your life. Who really wants that assignment. I ask you. (Not me.)
And that about sums up the spelling bee episode of Bachelor Pad. Would you like me to use it in a sentence?
We begin with an inconsolable Rachel, who acts like Michael (her partner who she is in LOVE with and just got voted off) is dead. "I don't know HOW I can go on," blah blah - careful hon. You might blow that nose ring right out of your head.
Then Chris Harrison announces that the rules are changing - again. Seriously? Never in my life have I seen so many different sets of rules for one game. From now on, they are competing - and voting - as couples.
So Rachel has to partner up with Nick, the only other guy without a partner. Who, as Sarah wisely states, "hasn't spoken since he got here." Should make for some exciting TV!
The top 10 board a school bus because...it's Spelling Bee time! Not their finest hour - these folks are more beauty than brains. Now, I'll admit that having to go back and forth with your partner, each saying a letter as you spell the word, is probably harder than it looks. And "boutonniere" is a toughie. But there were some verrrry creative spellings of words happening last night. "Titalait?" Really? I happen to have two spelling bee trophies (back-to-back champ in 2007-2008!), so I found this all a little sad. The Hogwarts-esque kid judges added to the fun though.
Sadly, the evil duo of Chris and Sarah successfully spelled "serendipity" (phew), and got to explore their budding romance (and talk about Emily) on an overnight date. Snooze. Ed and Jaclyn also got an overnight as the runners-up, which made for some dramatic moments when Ed admitted that he was seeing someone back home! GASP. (Well, sort-of: they broke up before he went on the Pad but he still had feelings for her...) Jaclyn, although devastated, somehow manages to pull herself together enough to still shack up. Atta girl!
They give their roses to Blakeley and Tony (nice hot pink shirt, btw), who then plot to kick off Lindzi and Kalon. Kalon does his creepy best to change it up and get Rachel and Nick out (and Nick helps in this process by acting like a total whackjob -perhaps best for him to not speak)...but it's Kalon and Lindzi who must leave the mansion at once. In a rare but sweet moment, Kalon leaps out of his limo to share a ride with Lindz - rumors are they're still together.
Who knew that love can come from the ridiculousness that is Bachelor Pad. Until next week...
On Friday while driving home from work, one of my back seat windows "died," and rolled all the way down below the rubber lining. (yes, I'm sure there are more automotive words for everything I just said, but hopefully you understood the gist.) I tried every Macgyver move I could think of to pull it back up - my fingers were too fat, the wrench (yes I own a wrench) couldn't get a good grip...so I went with my last possible option: duct taping a garbage bag over it. (I failed to mention that of course it rained all weekend, and when it wasn't raining it was in the 90s - neither situation ideal to have a window completely open.)
So off I go to the dealership this morning, in the hopes that they can salvage my poor window. It's so mortifying to drive with a garbage bag on the window, but I guess it's not the worst thing I've ever driven. Sad but true.
Flipping through the channels last night and caught a bit of Ferris Bueller's Day Off. I don't think I ever realized that his sister (played by a pre-nose job Jennifer Grey) had the exact Laura Ashley bedspread that I had growing up. (I may have also had the coordinating wallpaper and curtains. Let's remember it was the 80s.)
God I loved Laura Ashley. Every time I went to Wimbledon with my dad, we would go to the Laura Ashley store in London and I would get a long floral dress that, looking back now, looked like something one of the Sister Wives would wear:
It's also possible I owned this:
Oh lord. Let's make this a "Damn you, Laura Ashley!" post instead.
The presidential campaign is heating up - I've already had to hide a few overly political friends on Facebook - and it reminded me of my own illustrious political career.
Vice President, Lamplighter Layers (4th grade) - it was kind of a coup that a girl ran for such a "high" office, as I recall. I think my only job was to call role, but hey. We were dealing with a bunch of chickens. Literally.
President, Middle School Student Council (8th grade) - I won because I made a funny speech. I sat on the ground and basically did a monologue acting like Edith Ann which made no sense and had nothing to do with being student council president. But everyone loved it and I won. And then they made a rule that speeches couldn't be funny anymore. Whoopsie.
President, Junior Class - this was one of my favorites. Toughest year of high school, and a tough gig - but fun.
Vice President, Student Council (12th grade) - I didn't want to be President again, and all of our friends were in the big student council positions, so Vice President sounded like a good plan. My speech was based around the letters VP, for example: "The Vast Power of the Vice President gets overlooked by a Variety of People." And I think the ending was "Think Sarah for Vice President - Vote Please!" Teachers came up to me later and said they were still coming up with "v" and "p" words in the teachers lounge. Glad I could be of service.
In summary, I should probably steer clear of running for office - but might look into speechwriting.
Holy twists and turns, Bachelor Pad fans! Just when you think you know, you realize it's the Real World and you have no idea.
Chris is a total a-hole. Of COURSE people lied to him about who they were voting for - this game is all about lying. Watch the show, man. Sadly we're stuck with this guy for at least another week, although he's compiling enemies like it's a going out of business sale, so fingers crossed...
In a surprise to no one, Blakeley's "VIP cocktail waitress" career was actually at Hooters. Which she proved by being the first to finish the completely inane contest of carrying six stacked teacups. I've been a waitress (at Chili's, not Hooters), and can tell you I would have been a disaster at this challenge. Even if I could have used two hands. Poor Erica Rose is terrible at this one as well - barely even tries - and complains to the camera that none of the contests have used her strengths. (Which apparently include shopping. Atta girl.)
Blakeley is also extreeeeeemely materialistic. And could it have been more obvious that her overnight date with Tony was NOT going to be the fancypants one? Nice work, producers. Instead, Lindzi and Kalon got the fancy date, complete with a Bentley and Neil Lane jewels, and Blakeley and Tony got...an Airstream and a Jeep. (Which actually looked like more fun to me, but I digress.) Another award for lack of subtlety goes to the producers for using Wes Hayden's song on the radio. Which just "happened" to come on when Tony "happened" to switch it to the country station. Brava.
And during the love song, it was smooching all over the place: Blakeley and Tony. Lindzi and Kalon. Michael and Rachel. Chris and Sarah. Jaclyn and...a seemingly passed out Ed. Ah, young love.
The Jaclyn-Ed scene is a bit of foreshadowing, as proven the next day when Chris Harrison flat-out asks what the deal is between them, and Ed throws her under the bus, saying he is NOT looking for romance (although nightly hook-ups are AOK), but she's a swell partner. Ouch.
And then the game is thrown for a loop: everyone votes to send one girl home, and the loser gets to pick the guy who has to leave as well. Oooooh ABC. Good one. So Chris tries to convince everyone to vote off Lindzi, in order to break up the Kalon-Lindzi pairing, although he knows she'll probably take Chris with her - ballsy! And in the other corner: Michael, who gets everyone to vote for Erica Rose and tells ER it's Chris's doing, knowing she'll take Chris down when she leaves. But don't bang the gavel for Miss Erica Rose just yet - in a wise move, Chris brings her into the voting room with him to prove he did NOT in fact vote for her, and when it's her time to go, she takes MICHAEL down with her! (gasp) Rachel immediately breaks down, and the entire group is fractured - the power couple is over!
As Erica Rose said, "justice has been served." (Bang gavel)
...apparently my CFO goes to mine. I was leaving the gym this morning, in a sweaty daze, and some guy opened the door for me. I heard a "Morning, Sarah" in his British accent and sheepishly grinned as I bolted for the car. At least I had mascara on. Although maybe it would have been better if I didn't - he probably wouldn't have recognized me. (It's THAT drastic of a difference, trust me.)
Actually, another bigwig at my company goes to my gym as well. Which is weird, considering it's the YMCA. I would think these dudes would be all about Equinox or something equally fancy. But no. Sigh.
Two of my guy friends recently got engaged. (And no, not to each other, although I'm sure people have thought that in the past, as they are always together.) They are both in their mid-40s, and both dated quite a few girls I know. Quite an extensive list, in fact. :) I think the assumption was that they would be lifelong bachelors, content with dating around and having fun. But alas, the fun stopped - and they both got engaged within months of each other. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for a double wedding. All the same people would be invited to both, anyway...
Michigan and Alabama are playing at Cowboys Stadium on September 1, and it's basically sold out. But there's a LivingSocial deal for only $90 which gets you in and includes a hot dog, bag of chips and a drink. The catch? It's in the standing-room-only section. I figure I would probably be standing most of the time anyway, but still. Is it worth $100 to stand for 4 hours and watch teams I really don't care about? Possibly. And if so, someone remind me to wear comfortable shoes.
I think I need a black bar over my eyes today. On a whim bought some seafoam green skinny jeans at Target yesterday that were on sale ($17!), and on ANOTHER whim decided to wear them to work. Note: I don't wear skinny jeans. At least, not unless I have a long tunic and knee-high boots on to cover everything up but the knee region. This could be a loooooong day.
As I said before, the only things I knew about the Hamptons were what I had seen on TV. Sex and the City, Revenge, Real Housewives. And I am happy to report it was nothing like that. Much more laid-back and beachy than I thought it would be. And laid-back and beachy suits me just fine. (As long as "beachy" includes platform heels and my rhinestone-covered phone. What?)
We stayed in a house with 8 or so other people - everyone shared rooms and bathrooms, and it was kind of college-y. Aside from the pool, tennis court, and the fact that Sir Paul McCartney's house was right next door. (He wasn't there, but his Rolls Royce was...)
We went over to another house for a bbq the first night, which was a lot of fun. The drinks were too strong and the guacamole was too weak, but it was super casual and everyone was very nice to the out-of-towner (me). Then we hit two of the three bars in Amagansett, including the live music venue featuring an 80s cover band, aka my dream night. But oddly the bar was packed with 20-somethings. I felt OLD. Which I am accustomed to in Dallas, but didn't see coming in the Hamptons. How these kids have the kind of money to party up there is beyond me. Sigh.
The next day was pretty rainy, but we were able to sneak in some pool time here and there (when peeling ourselves away from Olympic rhythmic gymnastics, of course). Late in the afternoon we hit Cyril's, which is famous for the BBC (Bailey's Banana Colada). With a rum floater, of course. Dear god it's delicious. I may have had two. Then dinner at an odd place that served both burgers and sushi, but was still quite tasty. And then back to the bars from the previous night. Where I recognized quite a few people from the night before. I guess that's how you make friends in the Hamptons - there's nowhere else to go, so you keep bumping into the same folks.
Back to the city on Sunday - and of course the weather was amazeballs the day we left. But all around, a great time. I felt fancy, I felt uncool, and I felt lucky - that's the dream, I guess.
I made the mistake (or awesome coincidence, you be the judge) of watching "Here Comes Honey Boo Boo" last night. Is anyone familiar with this. Alana is a 6-year-old redneck (self-admitted) who is on the pageant circuit and became popular from the Toddlers and Tiaras trainwreck. So now she gets her own show, starring her entire whackjob family. Who, might I add, all need subtitles to be able to understand what they're saying. And yes, they're speaking English. It's truly a sight to behold. Her family consists of:
Dad Sugar Bear
Honey Boo Boo
Sisters Pumpkin, Chubbs and Chickadee (who is apparently pregnant at 17)
Jamie is an idiot. That pretty much sums up this episode. I hope she is watching this back and realizing how pathetic and stupid she looks..."He's protecting me!" when he asked another girl on a date. Really?! Here's a reality check, reality "star:" Chris was totally using you! He never liked you! And technically, he never liked Blakely, either...here's hoping for what's behind door #3 with Sarah, who he said had a "new car smell." Nice. Girls can't hear THAT enough.
Gotta love game show day. Always fun to say who's the most annoying, who's the fakest, how many people you've slept with (atta girl, Blakely!), etc...at least they didn't air the "who's the ugliest" again - which I believe Erica Rose won last time. And might still hold that title. (Sorry.)
At least the dates were a bit better this time - Dodgers Stadium and a random action movie sequence - but still an odd lack of helicopters. Maybe next week.
Fun times in NY! The weather wasn't great, but still. It's New York. We had a nice leisurely lunch on Thursday, wandered around the West Village (super cute!!), and had a drink on the roof of the hotel (amazeballs). Then a fun group dinner and drinks. I loved it there, but I felt like everyone in the city just looked cooler than me. (And probably were.) The next morning was crazy rainy, which made for a loooong cab ride - but by the time we got to our lunch destination, it was sunny again. And might I add, our lunch destination was the home of the Colombian ambassador to the UN. Holy five-story NYC mansion. Complete with servants. And elevators. And champagne. I thought we had chicken, but was told later it was lamb. Hmmm. Unfortunate, considering I haven't eaten lamb since like the early 1990s, but what can you do.
We hopped aboard the Jitney, which was much more luxurious than I thought, and headed to the Hamptons. Seriously - I want a Jitney. Movie. Free drinks/wine/snacks/newspaper. Bathroom. Could be a lot worse for a three and a half hour ride.
Last blog post until Monday because I'm off to New York tomorrow! The above is true - I DO heart New York. Haven't been in like 10 years, but still. (I'm sure it hasn't changed a bit - ha!)
The most exciting part: we'll be in the Hamptons for the weekend. Now, all I know about the Hamptons is what I've seen on TV - the Jitney (Sex and the City) and the crazy homes and parties (Real Housewives of NY). And in my mind, I imagine everyone wearing Lilly Pulitzer and plaid shorts and topsiders. And I'm sure in reality they do NOT. Which means when I bust all of these things out of my suitcase, I will scream "tourist!" (Actually, my incessant Facebook check-ins and constant photos will do that for me.)
But I think I will just embrace being a tourist. Might even buy a Statue of Liberty headpiece and wear it around. Look how awesome:
NY might never let me come back. I better live it up. Start spreading the news.
Another ridiculous episode, another drunken conquest by Ed. (Best line: "What was your name again?")
And another embarassing showing during the challenge by Ed. Seriously, guy - it's not rocket science. It's a hill with a rope. Haven't you ever watched a Road Rules/Real World challenge before? This totally screwed Jamie over, too, since she had the lead, which he blew. So I was glad David gave her a rose to save her. The whole prom date thing was fairly dumb, as was the wax museum date with the guys - has ABC just run out of ideas? Where are all the helicopter rides?!
Brief Couple Update:
Rachel and Stagliano are a cute couple, but Lindzi/Kalon are totally flying under the radar. She's never even on camera. Methinks this may change soon...
Jamie got rejected by Chris (again) - hopefully for the last time? - and I noticed that he sure does wear a lot of tank tops. The black wife-beater is particularly unfortunate.
And finally, the bromance of Ed and Reid. Which is actually not a bromance at all. In fact, I think we can safely say they are BRO-ken up.
Ed somehow managed to win over the ladies voting (maybe if he sleeps with everyone, he'll win the whole thing?!), giving Reid the surprise exit. Once again, Reid's complete lack of awareness and inability to count did him in - this time for good. And oh, Donna "they'll miss seeing me in my bikini." I'm sure they will, Donna. I'm sure they will. (Especially Nick, with all the complete last-minute making out.)
First it was a Blossom reunion, and now Old Navy ads are bringing back some classic 90210, with Brandon and Andrea as the guest stars. (Yes, they have real names, but I will always think of them as Brandon and Andrea.)
And though the years have not been particularly kind, let's remember these people were like 35 playing teenagers 20 years ago.
Can't wait to see what's next from Old Navy - may I suggest a Facts of Life reunion. Simply because I like saying "Tootie."
On Wednesday, the CEO came up to me and asked for a favor: his wife was going out of town and he was bringing his son (14) and daughter (16) to work on Thursday. He wondered if his daughter could hang out with me and my team for the day. Honored, I of course said yes - I've met her before, and she's adorable. Plus - the CEO wouldn't ask us if he didn't think we were trustworthy, exemplary employees (plus a ton of fun), right?? But then I thought more about it - maybe he asked us because he figured we don't do much during the day and why not entertain a teenager...
Regardless, yesterday went fine. We saved some semi-fun projects for her, took her to lunch, and promptly ran out of things for her to do around 2pm. But we gave her back to her dad alive, and I guess that's all that counts?
Lines like the above have never been enjoyed by one of the (very young) girls on my team, as she has never seen Three Amigos. As I mentioned before, I take personal offense at this, and feel it my duty as her boss to force her to watch what I feel are classic movies. So I bought Three Amigos for her, as well as the following movies, which she ALSO had never seen.
Prepare to be stunned and amazed, as well as a little sad for her generation...
Troop Beverly Hills (I said movies *I* feel are classics...)
Pretty in Pink
And, most frightening of all,
The Sound of Music
How a person can be 23 years old and never have seen The Sound of Music is beyond me.
Luckily these movies all cost like $1 on Amazon. I feel the end result will pay for itself tenfold.
Olympic fever has even hit my office - next week we're hosting our very own Olympiad, complete with sad little games that include:
Balance beam (on a piece of duct tape) 100-yard dash (in a rolling chair)
Swimming relay (which doesn't involve water; merely pantomiming the strokes while wearing goggles and flippers)
Archery (shooting mini-marshmallows)
Hurdles (over boxes of paper)
Should be tough. My co-workers better be relieved that I'm judging, so can't compete. I shoot a mean mini-marshmallow.
So glad that the most annoying twins since Sweet Valley High self-destructed and took themselves off the show. Good lord those girls were a trainwreck.
With them gone, Erica Rose was safe for another week - but did anyone else notice she wears a necklace that looks a lot like a penis? I know it's actually a gavel, but good lord I couldn't look anywhere else. (Sidebar: yes I follow her on Twitter and yes she answered the same question. Ha.)
Best line of the night: "I've never worn a leotard before." Which of course came from one of the guys when they had to perform a rhythmic gymnastics routine. Made me miss last year's synchronized swimming challenge - what a disaster.
Ed was once again in rare form - Jillian SO dodged a bullet there - but I will say his "In a Pickle" soap box derby car was hilarious. As was his "taste of victory" drinking out of the trophy. But his drunken make-out with Sarah? Tragic. Poor Reid tried to boot him off, but once again math failed him. Damn you, math.
And Jamie wins the desperation award of the week. She likes Chris. Chris sort of likes her, but likes $250K more so stays with Blakely. Even makes out with B in the bunk bed she shares with Jamie. And Jamie still SLEEPS in said bunk bed, crying herself to sleep while the action continues down below. WTMF. Plus the fact that she give her partner (who, although a virgin, is in love with her) the boot so she can partner with Chris?! This makes no sense. Then again, it's Bachelor Pad. What do I expect.
Saw The Dark Knight Rises yesterday - good stuff. Not a huge Batman fan (I don't dislike him - just kind of neutral either way), but aside from it being kind of long and semi-violent, I liked it. Particularly Anne Hathaway - meow. Also liked the security guard who stood in the aisle the whole time (remember, I'm still in Colorado). People even clapped at the end. (Not me, but people did.)
And the above is why I am not pursuing a career as a movie critic.
Well, I have so many thoughts about the Olympics I simply had to blog. Good luck following my train of thought.
Bizarro opening ceremony. Period.
Parade of Nations - once I learned most of the swimmers weren't walking (ahem, Ryan Lochte), I was kind of like "why bother?" Plus the fact that our athletes were practically last. How about we go by "America" from here on out so we can be at the front? And I know no one asked, but personally I think they should have worn jeans and white shirts. Super cute and cool. And USA-riffic.
So many weirdo sports that end up sucking me in. I'm talking to you, handball. And archery.
Also so many fun announcer names: Rowdy. Elfie. Etc.
The tape delay is redonk. I knew the results of the men's swimming a few hours ago. And yet it won't be on tv until much later. WTF NBC.
More to come...
Sorry about the lack of a blog post yesterday - I failed to mention that I was going on vacation to Colorado. Probably won't post again until Tuesday (devastating, I know), but wanted to alert all 57 of you that I am in fact alive and well and not trapped under something heavy. Well, I'm alive. Not sure about the "well" part. I guess I got a lovely case of altitude sickness, because about an hour after arriving we pulled into a Nordstrom Rack parking lot and I promptly puked three times. Out of the car. And of course there was a guy hanging out in the front seat of the car next to ours. Sorry pal. I'm not from here. Still felt like crap for most of the day but finally think I'm settled in. We DID decide to push the mountain hike (and windy mountain drive) back to Saturday just in case. Probably a good call. Gotta get my above-sea-level sea legs.
Last night, E! aired a special, "15 Awesomest Boy Bands." The top 5?
5. Boyz II Men
4. New Edition
1. Backstreet Boys
Kind of surprised the Jackson 5 didn't make the cut, although I'm sure they were in the top 15 somewhere.Otherwise I support this list, although I think NSYNC should be #1. And that's not just because I saw them in concert three times and made eye contact with Justin once. Or because I may have shelled out $35 for an NSYNC t-shirt at one of them.Or because I have a marionette doll of JC that's still in the box. Or maybe it's because of ALL of these reasons. :)
Bachelor Pad is back, folks. And I for one am psyched. Here, some reasons why.
Reid: I remember why I was once Team Reid. Love. (And his whole "read. page" thing was adorbs.)
Ed: the bloom is off the rose for me on this guy. What a drunken idiot/tool. Kudos to Chris Harrison for asking about the green shorts...
Blakeley: while I appreciate she's still giving it her all at 34 (which, I hate to tell the blonde superfan twins, is not quite menopause age), she's a disaster. And I kind of agreed with Jaclyn (who I have nothing else to say about): "What the #&* is she wearing?!" Also amusing that she's gone from a "VIP Cocktail Waitress" (aka stripper) to...waxer. (with a heart of gold, I'm sure.)
Sarah: No clue who this is.
Jamie: Has gone from straddling Ben to hooking up with Chris (crazy eyes). Not sure if that's a vertical move or a horizontal one. (hey-oh!)
Erica Rose: How is this girl only 30. Glad to see the crystal gavel is still in the picture - might be her longest relationship.
Kalon: Sigh. Anyone else think he wears veneers?
Ryan: Also no idea who he is. Although now I know he's a virgin.
Why, first of all. Similar to all Real World/Road Rules challenges involving veterans versus fresh meat, the fresh meat will always be the first to get the axe.
Secondly, can't believe that men would admit to being a "superfan." Particularly one on a SWAT team. (But I think my favorite part of the entire episode was showing him, in his pajamas, settling in to watch the Bachelor with a glass of red wine. He's all yours, ladies.) And I loved how he took pictures with everyone - including Chris Harrison. (I would, too.)
Third, why twins. WHY. They count as one player, they dress exactly the same, and they flat-out bug. Fingers crossed they get the boot next week.
...for Emily, at least. Jef was the last man standing and popped the question (on the saddest little podium in Bachelor history). Arie got the boot early on (begging the question why is this program 3 hours long), and thankfully never got introduced to little Ricki, Emily's daughter. I will say Jef seemed to get along well with her - maybe be cause he's like a child himself - and the pics of the three of them are rather adorbs. Even with Arie's weird admission to flying to Charlotte to give Emily his journal, it wasn't exactly the most dramatic rose ceremony ever. In fact, everything seems hunky dory and I found myself a little bored, to be honest. Thank god Bachelor Pad starts tonight.
Got to talking yesterday about cars, and I had my co-workers in stitches (um, as usual) when I relayed the sad tale of the Nissan Sentra. I believe I've blogged about it before - never had the title, so I would create new dates on the temporary license plate every few weeks; had manual windows; and it made a horrific and very embarrassing sound when I hit the brakes - but what really got them going was the fact that the car had sheepskin seat covers. BLACK sheepskin seat covers. Which my mom thoughtfully gave me to cover the tragedy of the ACTUAL seats, but still. Sheepskin seat covers in Texas in the summer (not to mention black ones) are basically the equivalent of wearing a fur coat in 100 degree temperatures. Sweat-fest, much? That car was such a disaster that when I finally got another one (and no, there was no trade-in - I probably would have had to pay the dealership to take it off my hands), I literally left the car with the keys in it at a gas station. Odds are it's still there.
There's a new show on Bravo called Miss Advised. And since I have to watch EVERY show on Bravo, I'm watching it. And what a trainwreck it is. It's about three relationship "experts" - a sex radio talk show host, a dating columnist and a matchmaker - and how they refuse to take their own advice in their love lives and continue to be disastrous at dating. Seriously - these women are cringe-worthy. My favorite part is to watch the poor guys' reactions when the women go bizarro and lay their heads down in the guys' laps in a limo. Or make them go to a fake prom featuring just the two of them. Or get all pissy one minute and then make out the next. (Okay, that one is actually not so bizarro. Ha.)
But like all good trainwrecks, I just can't turn away. Foiled again, Bravo.
Ah, The Men Tell All episode. Really the best that the Bachelor/ette franchise has to offer. Last night was particularly amusing to me since the two resident douchebags, Kalon and Ryan, refused to apologize for their behavior and just kind of shrugged it off. Well done, boys. And even though Emily bugs me, gotta give her props for going all West Virginia hoodrat on Kalon and telling the world he was in fact an a**hole (as if we didn't already know it).
Also props to John "Wolf" for the pink pants and loafers-with-no-socks ensemble. Prepster says what?
And of course, Chris Harrison. Not afraid to give it right back to the guys. Someone give this man his own show!
But the best part was the preview for Bachelor Pad. Reid! Ed! Erica Rose! Stagliano! And how Chris becomes the pimp of the house, I'll never know. But I do know I'll be tuning in...
Just saw on Facebook that this guy I "dated" last summer (and by "dated" I mean 5 platonic tennis dates) got married over the weekend. I guess when you know, you know. (Or as was the case with me, when you don't know. Ha.)
I threw myself a Bastille Day-themed birthday party this weekend, and it was chock full of French stereotypes. We wore berets. We donned mustaches (yay!). Some people smoked. And some busted out unfortunate attempts at a French accent. All in all, tres amusant. But I'm sure tres offensive to the French. Ah well. They're usually tres offensive to us.
(Cue the international incident I probably just instigated.)
Somehow I must have checked the "puzzle lock" feature on my phone's alarm clock, because when it went off this morning, suddenly I was required to do basic math in order to make it stop buzzing. And at 3am, that simply wasn't happening. Took like five snooze alarms to figure out what in the hell was going on. Oof.