What NOT to say to a single person

Thank you Amy for sending me this...

Apparently Glamour magazine asked single gals to send in their most hated cliches about being single. Drumroll, please:

"It happens when you're not looking." But we're ALWAYS looking.

"There are plenty of fish in the sea." Have you SEEN some of the fish in the sea? Those gross bottom-feeders with whiskers? (And yes, although I am actually talking about fish, this could also describe some of the men out there.)

"So, why are you single?" This is my least favorite. I mean, if I knew, I wouldn't BE single, would I?!

"You're too picky." I've been getting this one from my mom lately. And although it is probably true, why SHOULDN'T I be picky? You think long and hard about what movie to rent. Why not be selective about what man you're going to spend the next 40 years with?

"He's out there." Really? Thanks.

"It just takes one." This could also apply to a fatal heart attack. Not helpful.

"Just have fun with it!" WTF. Does dragging yourself to bars where the girls are all 10 years younger sound like fun to you?

"I wish I were single and in your shoes - the grass is always greener!" No, it's not. Grass can be brown and dead. (No, I'm not bitter. HA!)

"Don't you have any friends who can set you up?" Obviously not. That well has run dry, peeps.

And the last one, also becoming frequent with my mom: "You should freeze your eggs." Alrighty.

The Skinny Arm

As an avid reader - of US Weekly and In Touch - I have learned a bit about how celebs look their best on the red carpet. And it's two simple words: skinny arm. You've all seen it - creating space between your arm and your body so it's not flat against your chest like a sausage. (I'm of course speaking about my own experiences only.)

I've been doing the skinny arm pose for about a year now (and yes, the photos look dumb but MAN does my arm look skinny), and I love that my friends are catching on. (See above for proof.) Now in every photo we all have one hand on our hip like we're posing at a car show or something. VIVA le skinny arm. Cheapest diet around. (Until I figure out how to use Photoshop.)

Some things that make me go hmmm

Huge. I pronounce the "h." When did the "h" become silent? A la Donald Trump: "a yooge INdustry." (Don't get me started on the other weird things he says.) But people also pronounce human "YOO-man." Am I just wrong? (Don't answer that.)

In similar "what class did I sleep through when they taught this?" confusion, people say "I was standing on line at Best Buy." See, to me, that means you were on your computer on the internet. Because you're IN line. Not online. But apparently I'm wrong. What's next - the earth is ROUND?! (haha I do actually know that one. I think.)

The Biebs

I don't live under a rock - I know who Justin Bieber is. What I DON'T know is why his hair shake drives me crazy. (And not in the way it drives 13-year-old girls crazy - CRAZY crazy.) It's almost like a nervous tic or something. Super annoying.

I was searching for a youtube link to show y'all what we're dealing with here, but the closest I could find was this. Gotta give mad props to Katie Couric for calling him out.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=vjEqT5t7JvQ

This picture is worth a thousand words. Seriously.

Look closely at this dude's "mustache." REALLY, guy? And I guess those lipstick marks are also tattoos. Class-tastic. (And yes, of COURSE this is a mug shot.)

Evil? You make the call.

I won't re-hash what happened at my last job (since it's all sadly Google-able), but there was a murder, there was legal action taken, someone had to be the scapegoat, and I got fired after refusing to resign. (And no, I didn't kill anyone.)

ANYWAY...they haven't hired my replacement yet and the poor administrative assistant is having to do my job. (I mean, it's not like I was a brain surgeon, but still. Big job.) She sent me something she wrote following an event, and if I was a nice person, I would have made the necessary edits. But instead I sent it right back and said "Looks great! :)"

Screw those guys. Not her, per se, because she didn't do anything. But it's the principal of the thing. Why should I help them out? Humph. Let's hope she is too busy doing my job to read this blog. Ah well. I'm probably going to hell anyway. See some of you down there. :)

The anti- Dr. Doolittle

On a walk yesterday, I was stalked by a bird. Really hope no one was watching, because I kept panicking and looking around as it followed me in a nearby bush. Almost broke into a run. Which brings up two things:

1. One of my biggest fears is that I'm driving down the road with my windows open and a bird flies into my car. I cannot even IMAGINE what kind of accident I would get in. I CAN imagine screaming at the top of my lungs, and either swerving like a maniac or just going with my gut and throwing myself out of the moving vehicle. I'm sorry - but birds are horrifying. What if it started pecking at my eyes?? Yeesh.

2. A few years ago I was stalked by a squirrel. Perhaps a rabid squirrel. In my old apartment, we had lockboxes mounted outside on the wall where we would pick up our mail. One day I went to get my mail, and as I was turning the key I saw something in the corner of my eye. Turned around to see a FREAKING SQUIRREL, lying there on the top of the lockboxes. It just laid there, blinking at me. (Obviously something was wrong with it, but I didn't have time to bust out my veternarian skills.) I screamed bloody murder (this is a theme with me, obvi) and sprinted back into my apartment. The next day, I came home to find the same FREAKING SQUIRREL lying on the stairs leading to my apartment. I frog-leaped over it and ran back inside. My mom came over to visit, and hours later, it was dark out and she was walking down the stairs and SHE screamed. She stepped on the damn thing, still lying on the step. So we took a broom and shot it into a bush. How girly. And then the next day, FREAKING SQUIRREL is back, this time underneath my bottom step. I swear it could smell my fear. Convinced it's now angry and waiting until I step down to bite me and infect me with rabies, I finally called animal control and they "took care of it."

And now I'm thinking about the classic "Squirrel!" scene in the best movie ever, Christmas Vacation.

Wow that was a long tangent. Sorry.

This is going to sound super petty. But it's my blog. So there.

This is my dad's Wikipedia page: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dick_Stockton_(tennis)

It's all fine and good. But may I direct your attention to the Family section. It has a lovely sentence listing all of the kids (which my brother Cole added, btw), and then a new sentence with updates on the Florida kids. One of whom is not ACTUALLY related to my dad.

My beef: I want my own "update" sentence, dammit! Of course, Cole and I were talking about it and wondering how pathetic our updates would be:

"Eldest son Cole is still attending Austin Community College and working at Kinko's. Daughter Sarah is single in Dallas. Interested? Email her HERE."

Hmmm. Might actually produce a date or two. No more than that.

Okay, enough of being petty. Not enough TOM Petty, though.

Sweet update from OKCupid

Just got an email from a guy named Bobby who said "I'm a little young, but I think I'm mature for my age." So I'm thinking, okay, 26? 27? Click on his profile and...19. I have to give this site credit - I have never screamed out loud on any other online dating site. Sorry, Bobby. Call me in 10 years. Will probably still be available.

Decided on the title of my book (which has yet to be written)

"'I'm only on birth control for my acne' and other fun tales of being 32 and single."

Would anyone pick this bad boy off the shelf? Maybe if it was in paperback? At Half Price Books? :)

Mane event

I'm having a freakishly good hair day today. What a waste. :)
Why can't my hair be decent on a Saturday night? But no. A random Tuesday when I have no plans except going to the gym after work, where it will quickly go back to normal. Someone take a photo so I can remember. Because you KNOW even if I replicate everything I did to my hair this morning TOMORROW morning, it won't look the same. Stupid hair. Messing with my mind.

typical

So I was leaving a meeting in the Visual Arts building. Some students were installing an exhibit and there was paint on the ground. Somehow I slipped and fell, possibly flashing them as my dress flew up. I mumbled some sort of "man the floor is slippery" (not really - probably my blondeness) and got the hell out of there. That was like 5 hours ago - just looked down and realized I have had a huge blob of green paint on my knee the entire time. Awesome.

Chelsea Handler, bitches!

Man that was some funny stuff. The woman curses like a sailor - found myself using some choice vocab later that night - but FUNNY. Topics included balls, shadoobies (poop), and masturbating. Good times. The fact that the audience was 90% women who were getting hammered just made it funnier. Love when people yell things at the stage. Not really. Kind of bummed Chuy didn't make an appearance, but one of my favorite quotes was about him being in a porno. Chelsea said, "I mean, he's a Mexican MIDGET. What the hell else is he going to do?!" Hee.

Reunion wrap-up

So I missed the big dinner Saturday night, but Friday's hh with St. Mark's was equally entertaining. A few comments:

-Ray looks like Garth Brooks. A lot.
-All the St Marks guys have super-cute wives. Humph.
-Fry was wearing his letterman's jacket around. Cannot believe that thing still fits. Bet I couldn't get a TOE into my graduation dress.
-Brian H claims he wants an invite to the next toga party. Right.
-Taylor was wearing a suit complete with pocket square. I could SO picture him at a Hollywood business lunch. However, this was the Stoneleigh P. Whatev.
-Who is Jason Toranto? Really no idea. Although the name sounds familiar. Also saw Ryan Gillentine and Mood but didn't speak to any of them. Probably had no idea who I was, either.
-Loved running into Amy's bro Matt - it was their 20-yr reunion as well. Hilariousness.
-Sabrina Khan now lives on my street. Who knew.
-And finally, in a close race for best quote of the night, it came down to two. Fry telling Elizabeth Hooper in 8th grade that Mood (her boyfriend at the time, apparently) was "the hairiest guy you'll ever meet - and we're only in 8th grade!" VERSUS Hampton telling me "I mean, I'm a f*&@ing gynocologist!" Hampton FTW!

Loves it. Bring on the 20-year.

Who's your daddy

Another excellently named dating site...
www.sugardaddie.com ?!?!
Not sure how much it costs to join but this looks hilarious. I'm sure I don't make enough money to qualify. Unless everyone thinks that and it's a complete joke. Plus do I really want to be able to say "yes, we met on sugar daddie."???? Doubtful.

Oh, it's ON.

Found this blog by Giuliana Rancic, who bugs, but her marriage to Bill is cute on their show:
http://www.fabfitfun.com/

I think it's clearly copying my blog vision. The ones that crack me up the most are where she posts pictures of herself on E! News and compliments her own outfits. Maybe I'll start doing that. I *DO* look pretty cute today. :)

Cookie Johnson jeans. Not sure what to think about this.

Have any of my 12 readers tried these? I saw Cookie (please tell me that's not her real name) on Oprah talking about the jeans, and Kellie Rasberry on Kiss FM swears by them. But I'm just not sure I could walk into a store (even if that store is Nordstroms) and purchase something called Cookie Johnson jeans. But I guess I should at least do Cookie the honor of trying them on before bashing her jeans in front of all 12 of you. :)

Good news, sports fans

The NCAA basketball tourney has just expanded to 68 teams (instead of 65). With three more empty slots, let's pray that UNC sneaks it's way in next year. Please god.

Earth Day...

Is it just me, or is the Earth rebelling lately? It started with the tsunami a few years ago. Then Hurricane Katrina. Then the earthquakes in Haiti, Chile, and wherever else. And most recently, the volcano in Iceland. WTF, Earth? I keep thinking of that movie "The Day After Tomorrow," and somehow it doesn't seem so far-fetched anymore. I guess if I were Earth I'd be pretty pissed off, too. "You really want to use that Aqua Net on your hair? Here's a hurricane! Not recycling that plastic Coke bottle? Tsunami!" Sorry, Earth.

And another thing...

Wow lots of rants today. Sorry 12 readers. :)

I am annoyed by the magazine covers that claim so-and-so celebrity has NO make-up on! Um what?? Currently Jessica Simpson is on the cover of Marie Claire claiming to be au naturel. Sorry sweets. She is clearly rocking foundation, mascara, and lip gloss at the VERY least. And I'm not judging - hell, I put on mascara to go to the gym at 5am - but don't tell us it's one thing when we clearly know it's not.

Same goes for "unretouched" photos - like the one of Kim Kardashian (wow - that's the second time I've mentioned her today. Sorry Kimmy.) in Harper's Bazaar, I think? It's called PHOTOSHOP. If I knew how to use it, I would Photoshop the CRAP out of my pictures. Bye-bye, forehead wrinkles. Later, cellulite. But Kimster. The photo has been retouched. If I'm wrong, I will start using whatever diet product you're hawking. But I think I'm right. We're not idiots.

I do appreciate when celebs actually show us the difference between retouched and unretouched - pics of Britney just came out and you can see she has cellulite like us normal girls. Atta way Brit Brit! Just nice to see that they're not all that perfect. (Although has anyone thought Britney was perfect since like 1999? But I digress.)

Mental note: start only getting shot in black and white photography and learn to freaking Photoshop.

The Hills Have Eyes. And Ghost Writers.

Lauren Conrad has "written" two novels. (Sadly, I have purchased both of them.) Heidi Montag is "writing" a screenplay for herself so she can become the blonde Angelina Jolie (you betcha!). And now Whitney Port is "writing" an advice book. Topics include getting rid of puffy eyes and decorating an apartment. Riveting stuff.

The bigger question: who is ACTUALLY writing these books? Because we know it's not these lovely ladies. Whitney is probably the most likely to be able to put a sentence together, but even then I'm guessing there are ghost writers involved, big-time.

The biggest question: how can I get THAT gig?

Why, Octo-mom?!

Did anyone see her on Oprah this week? WHY GOD WHY. First of all, I love that she had to write Oprah a letter pleading to get on the show. And Oprah makes a point of saying they didn't pay her to be on. Heh. But the part that got me was when Octo-mom was talking about how horrible the paparazzi are, and how she never signed up to be a carnival attraction. Really? You have six kids, no job, no husband, and find out you're now having 8 more? And you didn't SIGN UP for the attention? Mmm-kay. Also liked how she had to lift up each kid's face before being able to identify him or her. Although I guess it does get confusing with 14 of them running around. Oh the humanity. Please don't give this woman a reality show. Pretty please?! The fact that Kim Kardashian has one is bad enough.

VH1 Classic IS classic

I've been Tivo-ing "Totally 80s" on VH1 Classic, to both help get ideas for the upcoming roller skate-a-thon and simply because it's awesome. Two solid hours of 80s music videos. Recent vids include "Stand" by REM, "Material Girl" by Madonna, "Wild Boys" by Duran Duran (which yes, I always thought was an oddly racist "White Boys"), "Rhythm Nation" by Janet, Miss Jackson if you're nasty, and various classics by The Cure, The Go-gos, Tom Petty, Devo, New Edition...how OLD am I?!

15-year high school reunion. Pardon?

How is it possible that I graduated from high school 15 years ago? It seriously feels like maybe 5. Although the wrinkles on my face tell a different story. With the reunion coming up this weekend, I give you Top Ten Things That Were Cool Way Back in 1995.

10. Car phones. The kind that were screwed onto your armrest and actually had a phone cord.
9. My So-Called Life/Beverly Hills 90210/Melrose Place. Odd that two of these are back on the air, albeit with entirely different casts. Or that the special guest stars who were on the original shows are now the "old" people. Thanks for that.
8. The workout phenomenon known as the "slide." Like speed skating on a little plastic mat with booties over your shoes. Look it up.
7. Hootie and the Blowfish. Enough said.
6. The Lion King. Which was technically 1994, but our senior t-shirts said "Hakuna Matata," so it still counts.
5. Supermodels. (Claudia. Cindy. Naomi. Etc.)
4. Belly shirts. Sad but true.
3. TLC. (RIP Left Eye)
2. Alicia Silverstone in every Aerosmith video.
1. Preston Royal 7-11. Or was that just me?

Enjoy the flashbacks. See you at the 20-year. (Ugh)

Traffic, I loathe you

Usually it takes about 25 minutes to get to work in the morning. Thanks to an over-turned SUV, it took me 90 minutes this morning. Aside from the fear of bursting my bladder, it was a very eye-opening experience.
1. Thank god for smartphones. everywhere I looked, people were talking, texting, and answering emails from their little mobile offices, er, cars. (And it was stopped traffic, don't worry. I saw the Oprah about texting while driving.)
2. Lots of people must not listen to traffic reports on the radio. They repeatedly said the left three lanes were blocked, and yet I kept seeing idiots get into the far left lane. Good luck with that, peeps.
3. Does no one wave anymore? And I'm talking about polite waving, not crazy-ass waving with the finger. I ALWAYS wave when someone lets me in. And I let in like five cars - not ONE person waved thank you. Humph. Southern hospitality my ass.
4. The radio talked so much about the over-turned vehicle and the onlooker traffic going the opposite direction that I was pretty curious to see this disaster for myself. But just as I finally got to the scene, they had righted the car and loaded it onto a tow truck. CURSES.
5. My road rage is still in tact. Passed by the wreck, traffic started flowing, and this huge bus in front of me came once again to a screeching halt. At this point I was about an hour late for work and just laid on the horn. WHAAAAAAAAAA. And again. WHAAAAAAAA. Finally the bus moved into another lane (ha - showed you!), and I figured out the reason for the stop: the car in front of him had stalled. Oopsie. Hoping it wasn't a bus full of children or the elderly. But I figure, I was nice enough to let five cars in. A little horn action was par for the course at that point.

Can't wait to do it all again at 5 pm. Sigh.

Follow-ups

So as I'm posting pictures from the aforementioned toga party, I realize that 90% of my Facebook friends have been busy posting photos themselves. Of their adorable children (and pets) on Easter. And then there's me, posting photos of myself, in a sheet, singing karaoke. What's wrong with this picture? :)

I should note that all is not lost: I was able to add three new songs to my karaoke repertoire, which had before consisted solely of "Baby Got Back" and "Funky Cold Medina." (Plus, if I was really drunk, "I Love Rock and Roll.") But for some reason I opened with a new set this year: "Pour Some Sugar on Me" (yay one-armmed drummer!), "Hurts so Good," and tragically, "Man in the Mirror." Note: I do not have a good singing voice. Should never ever sing slow songs. But did I let that stop me? No sir. In fact, a nice African-American guy sang "Man in the Mirror" after me, and he had an even WORSE voice. So technically, I sang Michael Jackson better than a black guy. Just saying.

But wait -there's more. I may have even lent back-up vocals to "I Touch Myself" and "We're Not Gonna Take It." Quite a show, peeps. Quite a show. When I went to pick up some party crap I left behind the morning after the party, one toga-goer who spent the night wandered into the kitchen and said "Hey. You're a really good singer." (He was obviously still drunk.)

And a second follow-up: head wound guy mentioned in an earlier post never called for our third potential date. So unless *I* get a head injury, I will never agree to go out with him again. Humph.

Facebook Official

It is my goal to someday be FBO with someone. Even my little 14-year-old half-brother is Facebook Official with his girlfriend. Oh the humanity. My favorites are the "in a relationship, but it's complicated" updates. Doesn't this apply to just about everyone?
Damn you, Facebook. :)

This kind of explains a lot

I mean, what if this was your DAD. No wonder Lindsay Lohan is so f-ed up. Nice wife-beater, dude.

Tough Love

...is one of the best shows on TV. (Okay, on VH1.) And yes I have applied to be on it, with no success. But now, for season three: "Tough Love: Couples." After watching the first episode last night, I can safely say it's like Tough Love meets Jersey Shore. Where did they FIND these people?

One girl's name is Axelle. Pronounced like Excel. Granted, I think she's foreign. But still. Then there's Pawel. Oddly not pronounced Paul, but Pavel. Who I first thought was foreign as well, but I'm afraid is just from New Jersey.

These types of shows (like "Sixteen and Pregnant," "Rock of Love," "Jerseylicious," etc.) just make me feel better about myself. So I will continue to watch. Even when I am years out of the target demographic (see all programming on MTV).

Random musings about nail polish

Hate it when nail polish chips off just one or two fingers right before the freaking weekend. It's always the "do I just say screw it and take them all off?" or "should I attempt a fixer-upper, even though somehow the odds are even better that my efforts will chip off in the same spot again tomorrow?" (And of course I usually go with the latter. Because I'm a gambler by nature.)

Maybe with the 80's party coming up and my utter lack of manicure skills, I should purchase some Lee Press-on nails. (Do they even still make these?) I always liked wearing them in 7th grade and going and typing on computer keys. Why that seemed professional to me, I really don't know. Unless we're talking about a professional...hooker.

Also weird that polish (as in nails) is the same as Polish (as in Poland), and yet...so different. I would paint my nails with something called Polish polish. And now have an odd hankering for a Polish sausage. Humph.

Sorry, Lorraine

Listening to one of my infamous mixes yesterday (more on that in a minute), and the classic "Blame it on the Rain" came on. (Thank you, Milli Vanilli. Or whoever actually sang it.) If you go back and listen to it (because I know you all have it on your iPods), it kind of sounds like "Blame it on Lorraine." Poor Lorraine. She didn't like your dreadlocks or shiny bike shorts, anyway.

The CD also contains the following ditties:

*Born in the USA, The Boss: Totally had this record with Bruce's ass on the cover. Yes ma'am.

*Forever, Chris Brown: I love this song b/c it reminds me of the wedding party who bopped down the aisle to it. And I hate it b/c that's what *I* was going to do! Dammit.

*Dancing with Myself, Billy Idol: Sheer genius. And I add a little something: CAR-dancing with myself.

*Eternal Flame, The Bangles: Slightly embarassing, but still good. And I still know the words.

*Float On, Modest Mouse: This just makes me feel cooler. Which probably makes me more of a loser.

*3, Britney Spears: Because every mix has to have a little Britney.

*Somebody's Watching Me, Rockwell: Eventually those Geico ads are gonna getcha. As is the rhythm.

*I Want You Back, Jackson 5: Aw. Baby MJ. Hearts for you.

*Somebody to Love, Queen: Thank you, Glee, for getting THIS one stuck in my head. And it's also a question I ask my friends: "Can't ANYBODY find me somebody to love?!"

*Sweet Child of Mine: Really no reason. Except it's GREATNESS.

*Power of Love, Huey Lewis and the News: Because I love "Back to the Future." And Marty McFly. Duh.

Another quickie

FYI: Eating 15 Altoids in a row really doesn't stave off hunger. But I am getting some sort of brain freeze happening.

An Ode to Target

Oh, Target. Only a store of your magnitude could force me to spend over $100 when I walk in with only two things on my list. Do I really need the 3 tank tops for $8 each? Sure. And the summer dress? It's only $15. What a deal, I'm thinking. Then when I hear the cashier give the total, I feel faint for a second. How many $15 dresses did I throw into the cart? Perhaps I shouldn't have stopped at the half-off Easter candy aisle. Ah, well. Such is the wonder of Target. And don't get me started on SUPER Target.

Massive Head Wound Harry

First of all, does anyone remember that SNL sketch with Dana Carvey? Greatness.

So there's this guy I'm supposed to go out with on Friday that I'm calling "head wound." We were supposed to go out like a month ago and he never called, claiming he didn't get my email confirmation until too late. I planned on blowing him off, but he asked to go out again two weeks ago. I pulled up, ordered a drink, and got a text from him that he had been in a wreck, his car was totalled, and he was going to have to cancel. I immediately texted back, asking if he was okay. Radio silence.

The entire weekend, I stormed around, like "unless he is in a freaking COMA, I just got totally screwed over!" Enter Monday. He sends an email that he had a concussion and his phone died in the crash (RIP, li'l buddy). So of course I felt like crap.

We are supposed to go out again (technically for the third time) this weekend. Barring him getting hit by a bus. Maybe we should go somewhere within walking distance.

Probably not a good thing when you can draw similarities between your love life and a skit on SNL. "Superstar!!"

Trash vs Treasure party

So I've heard about this idea of having a party where everyone invites someone of the opposite sex who they aren't attracted to "like that," basically a guy friend. in the hopes that someone's trash will be someone else's treasure. I would of course not phrase the evite that way...but the question is, is this still offensive to your plus one? I mean he's safely in the friend zone and he knows it. But is inviting him to a party that basically says "you don't do it for me" too harsh?

I'm trying to think if the situation were reversed. As Queen of Guy Friends (because that's how they all see me, as a dude), I might be a little hurt, but would also be flattered that he wanted to introduce me to other guys...

Thoughts, my 6 readers? :)

Just a note

I have 24 hours left on my Match.com membership. Let the unabashed winking begin!!

I can't feel my face

Um, is it just me, or will Heidi Montag look like Buzz Aldrin's wife in like 40 years? (Actually, at the rate she's going, more like 10 years...) YEESH. The perma-surprise is just weird-looking to me. Granted, I have a few forehead wrinkles that could use some poison injections, but that's what bangs are for, hello...

Good plastic surgery: Demi Moore. Diane Sawyer - assuming here, but come on. The woman is like 60.

BAD plastic surgery: Meg Ryan (seriously. whatever happened to her? besides the fish lips, of course). Jennifer Grey (RIP, "Baby"). Lisa Rinna. Heidi freaking Fleiss (Post on the best show on TV, Sober House, coming soon). Tori Spelling. The aforementioned Heidi Montag. Ramona on Real Housewives of NY - you can't tell me her eyes have always been like that. Actually, MOST cast members of the "Real Housewives" series. All cities. And oh - Joan Rivers. Poor poor Joan Rivers.

Summary: much easier to name BAD P.S. jobs than good ones. Maybe because with the best ones, you can't tell! Feel free to disagree with my jealous rant. I mean rant.

For more fun and time-wasters: www.goodplasticsurgery.com and www.awfulplasticsurgery.com

Now, when's the botox party?

I love the 80s

Not to ruin the surprise, but I've told pretty much everyone already anyway: this year's birthday bash will incorporate an 80s roller skating party. Yes, my birthday isn't until July, and no, I'm not turning an impressive age like 30 or 50, but man do I love a theme bash (see practically every other party I've ever had) and man do I love 80s tunes.

In scouring the internet to find the perfect 80s outfit (did I fail to mention you have to be in costume to board the party bus?), I have been amazed and horrified to find that they still sell many key 80s fashion pieces. Like the t-shirt tie. And gummy bracelets. And fingerless lace gloves. And shutter shades (thanks for bringing THOSE back, Kanye). And lest we forget 80s hair, the BANANA CLIP, people. That's right. (And obviously leggings and bubble skirts are back in fashion anyway...yikes)

Really hoping some guy busts out Jams and colored Zinc oxide on his nose. And someone better rock the Flashdance sweatshirt. That's all the help I can provide. Pop in your DVD of Sixteen Candles to get inspired.

So start acid washing your jeans, peeps, because we're going Back to the Future.

Easiest job in America is...

...being Perez Hilton. Seriously - all the guy does is post pics and draw stupid drawings on them and gossip about famous people. I do that every day, too - okay maybe not the picture drawing, but the rest of it - and do I get paid for it? No sir. Does Lindsay Lohan come to MY birthday party? No, dammit. (Although that one he can keep. No thanks, crazy town.) Plus, he just BUGS. Blue hair was NEVER cool, dude.

And I tease, but I am obviously a voracious reader of his site and have sadly picked up the phrases "adorbs" and "amazeballs" from him. Shhh. No need to boost his already ginormous ego.

Online dating tips - what NOT to do, guys

Sadly I speak from experience. Yes, I've been on eHarmony. And Match. Only thing stopping me from Jdate is that I'm not technically Jewish. (not even a little bit.) And none have proven successful. But I have read enough male profiles to know what NOT to do. At least, if you want to date ME.

1. No shirtless photos. This is information that comes later. Like third, fourth date. Or a first date on the beach. Even then. Perhaps keep a shirt on.
2. No tank tops. Technically, this is a shirt, I realize. But just no.
3. Use spell-check. It couldn't be easier these days - a click of a button. However, I'm aware that Mr. "Get_me_off_hear" would still pass through a spell-check. Little tip: it's "here."
4. Probably not going to work if you live in Vermont and I'm in Dallas. What part of "10 mile radius" are you not getting?

If you pass these simple tests, call me. Maybe I'LL wear a tank top.

There are two o's in Goose.

Top Gun was on last night while I was at the gym. This is how people can lose weight easier - have amazeballs movies on that just suck you in and you can't get off the elliptical. Personally, I had to wait until the "You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling" scene was over. Then rushed home in time to see the beach volleyball scene.

Which is still a cinematic marvel. Oh, Rick Rossovich. Where have you been all my life. Funny story: when working as an agent's assistant in Beverly Hills, Rick was a client. I had to talk to him on the phone for something stupid, like to give directions, and I felt myself blushing just chatting with him through a piece of plastic. Sigh.

But seriously, folks. Why is this movie still so good?? Perhaps because of quotes like this:

"The list is long and distinguished." "Like my johnson."

"Negative, ghostrider. The pattern is full."

"Take me to bed or lose me forever."

"Slider? You stink."

Or perhaps because who doesn't look good in aviators? Or doesn't want a cool call-sign like Viper? Cougar? Iceman?

Toga 7

I started the toga party phenomenon back in 2003 (okay, I didn't START it - the Romans did) when I moved into an apartment and wanted to throw a housewarming party. Obvious theme: TOGA. Duh. And somehow over the past seven years it has morphed into a phenomenon that just keeps getting bigger. Now housed at an actual house (shout-out, Chuck!), over the years we have printed up t-shirts ("Sheet Happens." Still funny.), added karaoke, tinkered with the punch until the recipe is just right, and obviously continued to out-do each other's toga every year. (My gold lame version was pretty happening, people.) But the one tried-and-true tradition, that perhaps also dates back to Roman times? Cherries soaked in Everclear. You heard me.

Toga 7 is just around the corner. See you drunks there!

I heart you, Butler

As previously mentioned, I am a UNC alum and hate all things Dook-related. The 2009-2010 season was not pretty for Carolina fans. Literally we went from first to worst. So watching the tournament was already painful, but then Dook kept winning.

Enter Monday night's final against sweet little Butler. Odds had Dook winning by over 7 points. In my heart I feared it would be much much worse. But still I soldiered on, like any good anti-Dook fan would, and wore my "Duck Fuke" t-shirt to the bar. Did not get the memo that the bar of choice happened to be the official Dook Alumni Association bar. Needless to say I was getting serious death looks and at one point thought I might cut a bitch. Kind of wish I had.

But oh, Butler. Even if we nicknamed your players "Herpes" (what WAS on that guy's lip), "Jukes of Hazzard" and "Pornstache" (you know who you are, man. Shave it.), you almost beat The Devil. (Freudian slip! The Blue Devils.) And your coach is sooooo cute. Way cuter than Coach K. Actually, there's really no contest.

Why Josh Hopkins and I should be dating

1. Just look at the man.

2. He's a nice southern boy.

3. He's a raving Kentucky fan. I am a raving UNC fan. (Hey - it could be worse - he could be a Dookie.)

4. He has said in interviews that he hangs out with his dog at home and watches basketball. CALL ME, Josh.

I love that "Crystal Bowersox teeth" comes up in Google searches

Seriously. What is WITH her teeth? Shouldn't the Idol makeover crew (Simon's fiance, I'm talking to you) help a sister out? Not that I watch the show (seriously, I don't), but I've seen enough photos of this chick to be oog-ed out. Not only does she need a whitening system, but I'm thinking the only real solution would be veneers. Hopefully more normal-looking ones than Hilary Duff's, but I digress. C'mon, Bowersox. Singing like Janis Joplin (seriously. I don't watch the show.) is one thing, but your teeth don't need to scream 1965 as well.

And...scene.