Memorial Day musings

I read that 1,000 WWII vets die every day, and by 2020 there won't be any left. So sad!!

So with Memorial Day just around the corner, I'm going to use this blog post to honor my Grandad, who passed away back in 1993. He was a bombardier and got shot down over Germany - lost his leg and had a wooden leg (which just meant good handicapped parking spots for life!) - after jumping out of the plane TWICE. (He jumped, his chute got caught, and so he had to pull himself back up and jump out again.) And apparently he smoked a Lucky cigarette on the way down. That's what I'm talking about.

My grandmother also just told me that he was too skinny to get into the Air Force, so the day of his weigh-in he ate like 50 bananas and chugged 2 gallons of milk. That put him over the weight requirement by two pounds, and then he went outside and puked his guts out. His buddies called him "Bananas" for a while after that. My kind of guy. :)

Better late than never: My Bachelorette analysis

Finally forced myself to watch the 2-hour premiere of The Bachelorette last night. Thank god for Tivo - I was able to breeze through it in about an hour. Ali's laugh is going to get old by about episode 3, but let's move on to more important things: the GUYS.

A few stand-outs:

-Dude with the Muppet voice. You know who I'm talking about. They really should close-caption him. I can barely understand what he says. And he's actually cute. Too bad his voice kills it.
-Rated R the wrestler. Really? REALLY? Here's a tip, ladies. You don't want to marry someone who has his alias printed up on t-shirts. Or someone who HAS an alias.
-"Shooter." You shot yourself in the foot on that one, big guy. Idiot.
-Weatherman. Annoying x 1000.

There are a couple who don't make me want to fast-forward. Time will tell if she keeps them around or has to obey the producers and keep the weirdos. I would bet on the latter.

How to put this nicely...

Mike Fisher, aka The Hockey Player Who is Marrying Carrie Underwood, is in need of a serious hair makeover. He is kind of rocking the 9os butt-cut. Anyone?

AI. Why.

Am I the only person who didn't watch the finale of American Idol last night? I flipped past it a couple times, and saw the remaining Bee Gees and - was that Michael McDonald? What the WHAT. I just don't care about that show anymore. Haven't watched it in like 4 years, except for a few times in the first few weeks to see the really bad people. That's the best part. The cheesy group sing-a-longs and the hour-long results shows? No thanks. There are much higher-quality programs I could be watching instead. Like The Hills. :)

Dear BP,

You might want to re-think the name "Top Kill" for this oil spill project. Sounds more like a Steven Seagal movie to me.

Love,
Sarah

um

This is hilarious. Like a bra fanny pack.

Back-up Plan

There is a nice mentally challenged (that's the politically correct way to say "retarded," right?) man who works out at my gym. His name is John. John has a slight crush on me. A few years ago he invited me to his 50th birthday party at his parents' house. I didn't go, but John is not deterred. Every morning that he works out, he walks to the gym and is first in line, so he must get there around 4:45am (the gym doesn't open until 5:30). Then he sits on the bench and greets every single person who gets in line with a "good morning!" Depending on how well he knows you, that could be followed by a "I hope you have a good workout, a good day, and a great week!" And for me he adds "You look so pretty today." Mind you, it's dark out, I barely have make-up on (can't leave the house without mascara, duh), and I look FAR from pretty. But thanks, John. You make 5am a little brighter.

And let's face it. In ten years, might need to marry someone who thinks I look pretty at 5am.

ET telefono casa

My sweet Tivo took it upon itself to record ET the other night. (The classic Spielberg film, not "Entertainment Tonight.") I started watching it last night and had forgotten how awesome that movie is. We had to watch it in Spanish in middle school (hence the "ET telefono casa" reference). And of course the outfits are 80s-riffic. And then there's lil Drew Barrymore. Sigh.

And now I'm craving Reeses Pieces.

Long live the three-day weekend

I truly believe that if every weekend was a three-day weekend, people would get more done during the week. (Okay, at least *I* would...)

Just the fact that next Tuesday will feel like a Monday but will already be Tuesday...priceless.

I salute you, long weekend. Long may you wave.

Getting dumber with each passing year.

So I've gotten sucked into the History Channel series, "America The Story of Us." We're up to WWII, and I can safely say that I have apparently forgotten everything I learned in American History in high school. (Granted, that was way back in like 1994, but still. There should be SOME retention of knowledge...) At one point I really thought I knew the answer they were teasing up to, and yelled out "Thomas Jefferson!" and it was Ben Franklin. Whoops. But ask me who won the first season of "The Bachelor," and I'm all over it. I guess it's selective retention.

Ooh la la, Venus.

Nice choice of tennis attire for the French Open. I particularly like her nude undergarments. She seriously looks naked at first glance. Oh, Venus. Although I guess if you can't wear tennis lingerie in France, where CAN you. Certainly not Wimbledon.

Why is it

...that the ones you don't want to hear from continue to call and the ones you do don't?! Argh.

Yet another cringeworthy moment

...when I fell down at the Byron Nelson yesterday in front of like 50 people. I could blame the margaritas, but sadly didn't have any. I could blame the shoes, but sadly I think it's just me. (Or some sort of inner ear problem I need to get looked at.) My knees are bruised, but not as badly as my ego...it's one of those things that I keep replaying in my head and every time I cringe. Oh the humanity.

So there was literally blood (my knees), sweat (um so very hot), and tears (for some inexplicable reason, Jill couldn't stop tearing up all day). That's the sign of a good time, right? RIGHT?!

Carry the six...

My gym crush and I finally had a semi-normal convo last night. He asked about my summer plans, so I went off on some Colorado tangent. Then I asked him what HE was doing. This is where it gets awkward. He said "We're going on an Alaskan cruise!" So I'm thinking okay, he's married and/or has a girlfriend. (Which he still very well could, but I digress.) Then he explains that he has a son and THEY are going. I'm like, "Oh how nice..." and then he says "Yeah, he's graduating next week so this is his present." I was like "um, graduating from WHAT?" Preschool? Nope - HIGH SCHOOL, folks. This guy looks my age. Which means unless he had the kid at 15, he is much older. Hey now. I was so flustered that the conversation pretty much halted after that. I'm all sitting on the Reebok Step, trying to do the math in my head...

Whatever. Just another amusing chapter for my book.

Those crazy celebrities

So Kerri Walsh (Olympic beach volleyball player) just had her second son. Named him Sundance. Really? Poor kid is going to grow up wondering why his older brother got a nice normal name (Joseph Michael), and he gets stuck with the name of a film festival. At least name the next kid Tribeca to keep the streak going...

Sarah, Inc.

I have had lots of ideas for products and businesses over the years. If I ever actually moved forward on any of them, who knows how successful I would be. But...no. For example:

1. After I got robbed a few years ago, I started thinking about buying a gun. (I never would, but I did think about it.) But how much cooler would it be for gun-toting gals to have interchangeable plates to change the color/style of the gun handle? Like you could have a denim one, a black patent leather one, a pink bedazzled rhinestone one...a gun to match your outfit! I think women would be much more likely to buy a gun if they were cute. Just saying.

2. After trying to figure out how to get a keg to my now-defunct rollerskating party, I came up with the idea for a keg delivery service. Imagine if you could get your keg delivered to your party location, tapped for you, and then picked up the next day! I would seriously pay an extra $100 for something like that. (Then again, this is my idea, so I guess I would have to.)

3. My love of frozen drinks and frozen yogurt leads me to believe you must be able to make fro yo from a margarita machine. How great would that be?
Mondays: Coconut fro yo
Tuesdays: Daquiris
Wednesdays: Peach fro yo
Thursdays: Bellinis
Fridays: Strawberry fro yo
Saturdays: you guessed it, Strawberry MARGARITAS
Sundays: day off for the Lord. (HA)

This will be the only product I register for, should I ever get married. It's a party and a marriage counselor all in one.

Nobody steal these ideas. Patents pending. (Not really)

Nelson. Byron Nelson.

Super psyched about going to le Byron on Sunday. I don't care about golf, but I DO care about margaritas. And the people-watching. (Okay, the DUDE watching.) They are out in full force, in all their polo-shirted, khaki-ed glory. It's like being back at a college frat party but sweating the whole time. Actually that probably happened to me at frat parties, too. I might have some sort of body cooling problem.

Seriously. Two years ago I got severely overheated at the Byron Nelson and probably sweated off like 12 pounds. My friends couldn't stop laughing, and when I laughed with them, it just made me sweat even more. I couldn't take off my sunglasses for fear that my mascara had sweated off. I couldn't sit down for fear of ass-sweat marks. So I found a giant industrial-sized fan and just stood there, gulping down $8 bottles of water. Good times!

And last year I think I spent like $85 on drink tickets. It goes fast when it's 100 degrees out and you need liquid courage to talk to the frat-tastics around you. Wish me luck, peeps.

Why they pay me the big bucks

...and just painted my nails at my desk. Classy! Yet resourceful!

Miley. Freaking. Cyrus.

She "can't be tamed?" Would someone please try?! She seriously bugs the crap out of me. He smile is gummy, she has a smoker's voice already, and she is slutty deep down. Maybe not THAT deep down: I predict she will be doing porn in two years. Write it down.

She is almost as annoying to me as:

Kim Kardashian (famous for NOTHING)
Lindsay Lohan (just an absolute trainwreck)
All Real Housewives. Except Bethenny. (that's not to say I don't WATCH every week. Of course I do. But they all annoy me.)

Rant over.

Poor white trash

Lately ALL my shoes have been falling apart. I seriously have had to throw away like 6 pairs this year alone. And some were actually decent brands - Charles Jourdans yesterday - but again they were like 10 years old, so I guess I got my money's worth?

Then today I show up to work in a cute dress and notice a huge stain all down the front. (Guess my apartment is too dark in the morning - which makes me wonder how many OTHER times I have left in disarray...)

I am a walking disaster. Ripped shoes, stained dress...classy! No wonder I don't have a boyfriend.

Have a mint.

It creeps me out to see two guys sharing the same microphone onstage. Simply because it's potentially a perfect storm of bad breath. Example: Bruce Springsteen and Steven Van Zandt (Sopranos guy). Check out a youtube video of them - a little too close for comfort, if you ask me. I also just watched an old clip of the Beatles at Shea Stadium - Paul and John are thisclose. Just saying.

The other near-miss happened during the Final Four when WVU player Da'Sean Butler tore his ACL and coach Bob Huggins knelt down in his face for waaaaay too long. I finally had to look away. Let's hope they at least brushed their teeth.

Ow

Some days I think I have nothing to write about. And now I wonder if subconsciously my body is hurting itself to give me topics. Or maybe I'm just a klutz.

I usually keep one of my downstairs windows open in some futile attempt at cooling down the place while I'm at work. (Doesn't work. At all.) But a few months ago, I heard about an attempted burglary a street over and got nervous (have been robbed before), so I went to close the window. When I did, this wooden art piece that had been resting on the top of the window came crashing down and smacked me right on the top of the head. I almost passed out and got an immediate goose-egg.

A few days later, decided burglar be damned- it's HOT in herre - so I re-opened the window. And this morning, it's officially hotter inside than outside so I closed it. And once again, the wooden thing came crashing down and smacked me on top of the head. And again, I almost passed out. Goose-egg. Actually hurt worse this time, aching for like two hours afterwards.

One would think I would learn my lesson. I could blame the blonde hair, but this kind of crap happens to me all the time. I truly am a danger to myself (not to mention others).

And FYI I looked up "symptoms of concussions," just in case. If I start vomiting, I'm calling someone. Someone better pick up the phone.

Be kind, please rewind

Do you ever sit and rewind a line or scene from a movie over and over? I did that a few weeks ago with Ferris Bueller - for some reason the "Twist and Shout" parade scene just makes me happy. Particularly the African-American dance troupe on the steps. Anyone? Bueller? Where they make the little "huh" noises?? Greatness. I seriously must have watched that part like 5 times in a row. Thank you, Tivo and/or DVD scene selection. They really make it easy for you these days.

The fireball scene in Christmas Vacation was always my college roommate's favorite (shout-out SB), so now when I watch that part I also have to backtrack once or thrice. And giggle every time.

And I just rediscovered the genius that is Spaceballs - it took me like three hours to get through, because there were so many parts I had to watch again and again. "We ain't found sh*t!" being one of the highlights for me.

Sloppy seconds?

Is it weird to get set up with a friend's ex? A little. But at this point, it's slim pickins. Time to scoop up someone's sloppy seconds. Or thirds. Plus at least we'll have something to talk about on our date...

"Pretty Wild," indeed

Does anyone besides me watch this "Pretty Wild" show on E!? It's about three "sisters" (one is apparently just a friend but calls the mom "Mom") - one of whom just got jail time for being involved in that "bling ring" of burglaries. So why they got their own show is beyond me, but Chelsea Handler is an exec producer so I thought I would give it a chance. Um, last night's episode? REDONK. My jaw dropped in the first two minutes. The daughter-who-isn't-really-a-daughter was saying how she had been working out and looking good, and her "mom" thought it was time to get some nude photos taken. Which is already creepy, but then the MOM comes into the bathroom and starts TAKING the nude photos! Then tells the girl to start soaping herself up - "yeah, that looks hot" - and snaps away! Are you kidding me?! I call foul on this. Even for you, Chelsea. Cue the heebie jeebies.

Sunday Funday

Two pool parties yesterday = a nice reddish tint to my skin today. But so much better than my typical Sunday which consists of working out, cleaning my apartment, and then lounging on my couch and watching 15 shows Tivo'd throughout the course of the week. Which is also enjoyable, don't get me wrong, but a girl needs to be social. Viva los pool parties. I welcome the invitation. Hint, hint.

Fun things to do with a white glove

Wore my golf glove out and about Saturday night for the Bar Golf pub crawl. And it really made the outfit - without the glove, I just looked like some super-preppy girl going to the country club. Ha. But while wearing the glove, I got asked if I was a proctologist. Nice one. I should have asked the guy to turn his head and cough.

In the glove, I felt a little like I was headed back to cotillion, a very odd time in 5th grade when the "cool" thing was to get all dressed up and learn the fox trot. Mmm-kay.

I also felt the need to mime a bit in the glove. Who knew a little piece of white fabric could be so awesome. And now it needs to be laundered. Before I sew tiny sequins all over it for my next Michael Jackson Memorial Booze Cruise.

I mean

...how does my dad have 133 Facebook friends? If he gets more than me I'm OUT.

Dum da da da duuuuum dum

(That's Pomp and Circumstance. Not the Wedding March. But typing it out like that, they are eerily similar. Weird.)

It's graduation weekend at UT Dallas, and I just saw some cute girls in their cap and gowns snapping photos by the UTD sign. Aw. Made me realize I have never worn a traditional black cap and gown. We wore long white dresses and big white hats at high school graduation, at UNC graduation we wore Carolina blue cap and gowns (aw), and I didn't walk at grad school graduation. I guess at that point I was like, "screw it."

But now I really WANT the old-school (no pun intended) cap and gown. Is that reason enough to go back for another degree? I'd say so. Plus the fact that if I got my PhD people would have to call me "Doctor." Which is awesome.

eat a sandwich. seriously.

There's a lady who goes to my gym and she's there even more than I am - two-a-days, all Spin, all the time - and she is SUPER skinny. I overheard her this morning telling someone how hard it was to go shopping because - get this - she has a 24-inch waist. Um. I think my ANKLES are 24 inches. That is like crazy town to me. But good luck finding stuff at Limited Too. (As I finish off a York peppermint patty. What.)

"Undateable" : GENIUS.

I caught an epsiode of Undateable last night on VH1 and almost fell off the elliptical from laughing so hard. Each hour is devoted to 20 things guys do that ensure they will never have sex or date - totalling 100 things in all.

A sampling:
Jorts (jean shorts) or Japris (jean capris. was unaware of this phenomenon for guys)
Saying "boner" on a date
Playing Dungeons and Dragons
Wearing Hawaiian shirts (unless you're Jimmy Buffet)
Having a pet name for their penis
Mandanas (sorry Bret Michaels)
Fake swearing ("darn it!")
Names for breasts (they are NOT "fun bags," boys)
Murse (man purse)

I highly recommend checking this out. Amazeballs.

Talk about your most embarassing moment...

So yesterday we had a press conference with the governor. Standing behind him for like an hour were six students who had received internships/scholarships. I had a sinking feeling someone would pass out - why they weren't allowed to sit, I'll never know - and sure enough, as the governor is talking, one poor girl takes a few steps forward, and then faints to the ground. She was out for probably a minute, but it felt like five, and the governor knelt down and was right in her face when she came to. Poor thing almost started crying, she was so embarassed.

And yet the press conference went on. I had been standing for about two hours at that point, and MY legs started to feel shaky. I was willing myself not to black out - how freaking ridiculous would THAT have been? And luckily I managed to keep it together.

I have only passed out once - age 6 - when my mom was pulling my hair too tight. But at least there were no TV cameras around to capture the moment, which is what happened to that poor girl yesterday. Maybe the stations will give her a copy of the DVD for posterity.

Bitch-elorette Party

So while getting my hair did yesterday, my hairdresser suggested I have a faux bachelorette party for my birthday. Complete with cheesy veil, penis straws, and even a limo - all in the hopes of getting guys to buy us free drinks all night. Really not a bad idea, but slightly embarassing if I WERE to meet a cute guy that night..."Here's my number." "Wait - what about your fiancee?" "Don't worry about it. I don't think it's going to last." Hmmm. Probably not the BEST way to start a relationship.

Still - A for effort on the creative aspect. Plus we all know I've wanted to wear a t-shirt like the one pictured above.

Just because

Actually, I think it's pronounced "authori-tah," but either way. Greatness.

Twitter? Twit is more like it

I really don't understand Twitter. I'm on it for work and can post things, but why people are following me I have no idea. I have nothing interesting to say and "tweet" MAYBE once a day. More like once a week. Of course I follow Lindsay Lohan and Rachel Zoe and Sean May (former UNC baller, now NBA, for those not in the know), and have even tried "replying" to their tweets - which is super awkward and embarassing for some reason. As IF I'm friends with Rachel Zoe. But I'll tell her "I die!" when she posts a pic of herself in Cannes or some crap.

Luckily none of my friends are on it - we're just getting the hang of Facebook over here - so I don't feel the need to get more Twit-tastic than I already am. But the fact that people like Hugh Hefner and Katie Couric are tweeting makes me feel like I'm missing the boat. Argh. I'm just going to assume that Hef has no idea how to use Twitter and his PR people are running it for him. Yeah, that's the ticket.

Always a bridesmaid. Period.

Not too long ago I had a revelation: I must try on a wedding dress before I die. So a friend and I decided to suck it up, put on our best cubic zirconia, and headed to David's Bridal to try on some white frou-frou action. Some may see this as pathetic. I try to see it as market research. Suuuure.

My friend was wise enough to realize that we would need engagement stories/wedding dates, so we came up with little white lies about when and where and who. (She gave an actual date, I said we were "still deciding.") The fact that we kept giggling and snapping photos of each other was an easy giveaway to our consultant that we had no intention of actually BUYING anything, but she was nice enough to humor us and let us try on 3-4 dresses each (shout-out, Deirdre!).

Honestly, I didn't think I would like ANYTHING from David's Bridal, but a couple that I tried on weren't so bad. And then Deirdre worked her magic touch - putting on the veil - and when I stepped out into the middle of the room and stood on that pedestal in front of all those mirrors...sigh. I was a "bride." It didn't help that random mothers of ACTUAL brides were sitting around, clapping, ooh-ing and ah-ing. Snapped some photos for MY mother, because this may be the only time she gets to see me all wedding-ed up. I tell you, it was hard to take the veil off. I really wanted to wear it home with my jeans.

So that's one more thing to mark off the old bucket list. Next up: we're going streaking! With nothing on but that damn veil.

How Rude.

REALLY?! Stephanie Tanner is twice divorced and pregnant with baby #2 with baby-daddy #2?! Maybe there's something to this crystal meth addiction.

I should just shave my head.

Why I attempted the side braid today, when I'm getting my passport photo taken, I will never know. It certainly doesn't look like the photo above. Nowhere close, actually.

I am very remedial when it comes to my hair. I can't use a curling iron. Or a round brush. Bobby pins? Nope. Can really barely operate a blow dryer and straightener. (This could be why my hairdresser refuses to give me bangs - she knows I wouldn't know what to do with them and would end up slicking them back with a headband.) So why I attempt side braids, wavy looks, really anything aside from my go-to "side part, tuck behind the ear" style, is beyond me. I mean, know your limits.

And now the side braid will be captured for the next ten years in photo history! Good thing I never leave the country. Maybe no one will ever see this passport picture.

Man that guy gets around

Jeremy from The Bachelor (DeAnna's season? maybe?) who lives in Dallas is one of my Facebook friend suggestions. Apparently we have 5 friends in common. Who knew? (Too embarassed to friend him at this point, but maybe after a glass of wine. All he can do is ignore me, right?)

Of course, I've seen him out and about in Dallas before, and every time he's surrounded by like four girls. But still. Pseudo famous. Interesting. I prefer him over the weird foot-fetish guy (also from Dallas) any day.

Why is the world anti-single people?

My latest beef: trying to go on a freaking vacation by myself. (Yes, it's pathetic, but I'm desperate to get away. Partner in crime be damned.) The issue I'm having, aside from the slight embarassment factor: when you book a package for one instead of two, it ups the cost by like 50%. WTF. I mean I get it, double occupancy, blah blah - but what the hell am I supposed to do? No way am I going on a "singles" cruise - and I promise I'll eat and drink for two - so why can't some of these travel sites give a person a break? Being a party of one is tragic enough without the extra dollar signs. Humph. Looks like a staycation for the second year in a row. Score.

Calorie free, sugar free salad dressing?! WTF

So I got suckered into buying this salad dressing at Central Market that proclaims it has "No calories, No sugar!" What in the world DOES it have in it? The scariest part: it's actually tasty. I've tried the Caesar, Italian, and Honey Dijon flavors (pictured above), and they all taste freakishly normal. It's probably a huge marketing ploy, and I'm adding like 1,500 calories to my salad. But if ignorance is bliss, consider me blissed out.

You ever been busted for boppin'?

Yesterday at the gym I was ecstatic to find that "Footloose" was on TV. Ahhhh.

The title of this post is one of my favorite lines, as is "My daddy HATES me wearin' these boots." And of course "What did David do? What did David do? What DID David do?" Such greatness.

And little Sarah Jessica Parker in it? Aw. I met Chris Penn (RIP) once in Los Angeles, and although he was pretty fat at that point and probably in the midst of a drug addiction, all I kept thinking was "You're Willard! You're Willard!"

Let's DANCE!

Seniors '03!

So Saturday night I'm out with the girls. These guys from the next table finally meander over to chat with us. Turns out they are all like 25 and 26 and apparently think we are, too. Aw. They must have been drunker than we thought.

Then the guy from the table behind us comes over, asking how much of a shot (or lack of) the first guys have with us. I told him we were a little older than those guys, and turns out guy from table 2 is ALSO 26. Class of freaking 2003. What? Try the 90's, boys. He also can't believe how "old" we are.

I proceeded to have an embarassing dance-off with some of the youngsters, and 2003 grad proceeds to do the "Worm." Twice. Yes please. I can't help but imagine the friends of these kids, wondering "Who's that MOM he's dancing with?" Awesome.

When I finally confessed how old I was, little 26-year-old backtracked, saying he was ACTUALLY 29. And that guy he said was his roommate (aw again)? No! He lives alone in a house in Lakewood. Poor little pumpkin. I took the tequila shot he bought me, patted him on his head, and got the hell outta there.

Was definitely an ego boost. I certainly can't pass for 25. But perhaps 29. We'll go with that.

Daily Embarassing Moment

Just went to the tanning salon (I know, I know), and after "doing my business" got back in my car and realized I left my bikini bottoms inside. Seriously considered just ditching them, but it's a cute bikini, so I shuffled back inside, praying that I could just run back into the little room without anyone knowing. Nope - in the three minutes it took to get to my car and back, they had cleaned the room and the DUDE at the front desk had to hand me my bikini bottoms. Which he probably thought was my underwear. Which might mean he thought I was going commando.
OH THE HUMANITY. Blushing just thinking about it. Might have to find a new tanning salon.

Another tanning salon embarassing story: for the LONGEST time I thought the little stickers they used to have at the front desk to measure your tan progression were like pasties for those who didn't want bra lines. But I always wondered why you would want the shape of a dolphin/heart/state of Texas...THERE. Good thing someone told me what they were really for before I humiliated myself even further.

You know it's bad when

You get a notice that your free Pandora for the month is about to expire. And it's May 7th. Guess it's time to start bringing in my plethora of mixed CD's into the office.

My boss said "plethora" the other day in a meeting (she pronounced it "plethOR-a," which is neither here nor there), and it really made me crave Three Amigos. Might be time to rent that bad boy. I may still have it on VHS. Man I'm old.

Word to your mother

Finally watched this week's episode of Glee last night, and LOVED the song choices: Physical (how good does Olivia Newton-John look?), Can't Touch This, and of course Ice Ice Baby. I was stunned that Vanilla Ice (nee Robbie Van Winkle) would let the show use this song, since he rarely plays it in concert (um, so I've heard) and seems like a very bitter, angry guy in general. Must have been a while since he's seen a paycheck, so he gave in.

Little known fact: Robbie is from Dallas, and he lived on the same street as a girl in my high school. We would run over to his house, bang on the door, and yell "Vanilla! Vanilla!" No wonder he's pissed off.

But how much did I want his jacket (pictured above). Actually still do. I feel like he also had one with "Word To Your Mother" on the back in sequins. Which would really be even cooler. Cold as ice, actually.

Humph

My friend Jade (shout-out!) sent me a link yesterday with the Top Five Ways to Get Kristin Cavallari's Body. And it was all crap like "Eat well!" "Exercise!" blah blah.

Um how about #6: COCAINE.

I really don't want ANYTHING of Kristin C's. Brody? Ew no. Justin Bobby? Hell no. But I DO use the word "Dunzo" quite a bit, which I learned from her. So there you go. But it's no crack-body. No sir.

Aw

Best Koozie Ever. Hola, little buddy.

Argh registries

Twice in the past month I have gone to Target to buy something off a registry. And both times 95% of the items listed are only available online. What gives, Target? I'm not going to pay to ship something that I could go down the street to pick up...

Which means I usually just browse around and buy what I think is cute, registry be damned. Just fair warning for those of you who are thinking about inviting me to a shower in the near future. What - you don't think you and your future husband both need leopard-print Snuggies??
:)

Singing and swinging

Not sure where my renewed love of karaoke stems from (although did it ever really go away?), but tonight, going to Top Golf for ladies night/karaoke. A very random combination, but it does provide some creative song choices if you're looking to tie in the golf game. And who wouldn't.

Options include:

-Swing low, sweet chariot. (probably not a crowd pleaser, but seriously how funny would it be if someone got up there and busted out with this??)

-Head like a hole (hole...golf...)

-Eye of the Tiger (hee)

-Strokin'

Ironically I'm going to a bar golf pub crawl next weekend for some guy's bday who I don't even know, and we have to wear golf clothes. I do not own argyle or khakis. Might have to hit the Top Golf pro shop for a visor or some crap. Randomly I DO own a golf glove. Hmmmm.

Finished with lunch! And it's 9:30 a.m.

So sad. I bring my lunch every day and even if I stow it away in my desk drawer, by 10 a.m. I've eaten everything. Which means around 3 p.m. I am about to eat my hand. Good times.

Talk Dirty to Me

I love Poison. Some of my best work on Guitar Hero can be found on "Nothin' But a Good Time." And the name Nikki Sixx? Greatness.

And I love Rock of Love. If I weren't afraid of becoming an alcoholic or catching a disease, I would apply. (Hell - I've applied for Real World, Bachelor, and Survivor in the past - why stop now?)

And I love Bret Michaels the most. European hair extensions and all. So I'm obviously thrilled that he's okay, but REALLY? Check out the smaller photo on the cover of People. He gets to wear a do-rag while unconscious from a brain hemorrhage? How bald IS he on top?!?! Intriguing.

Why doesn't he form a super-group with Slash on guitar and Tommy Lee on drums? Just saying. I would watch.

Because drinking holidays are awesome

Does anyone you know actually celebrate Cinco de Mayo because they are Mexican? Or celebrate St. Patrick's Day because they came over from Ireland? Doubtful. The beauty of these holidays is they have nothing to do with our lives but give us the perfect excuse to get hammered.

Yes, many people drink at Christmas - egg nog doesn't count - but that's mostly to numb the annoyance of family. (or is that just me?) I personally don't get drunk at Easter or on President's Day. Now, as a single gal, Valentine's Day and New Year's Eve ARE drinking holidays, simply to help me forget how painful it is to be single on those days of the year. But again - there's a REASON for the liquor.

Cinco de Mayo is just a day that means nothing to me in the historical sense (seriously - Mexican independence day? No. Something about beating the French? Whatever.), and that ignorance is bliss. Especially after a few margaritas.

Ole!

How many As Seen on TV items does a person need??

Just bought a Tony Little Gazelle from Amazon.com. (Yes, the ponytailed guy in the black spandex.) Will let you know how much of a waste of money that was. Additional items I have bought in the past:

-2 (count 'em, TWO) Snuggies
-Bump-it
-Hair-do by Jessica Simpson
-The Bullet (not a sex toy - some sort of smoothie maker that I have never used)

And I still want a Sham-WOW and a Chia Pet, if they still make them. Ooh and that thing that chops everything up into tiny pieces looks fun too.

Sucker? You betcha.

Back to square one

Had to close out the OKCupid account. Really started to creep me out. Got IM's from girls and really weirdo dudes. The two guys I was emailing with I became friends with on Facebook, so figured I could continue to stay in touch that way.

Or not. The one guy was the one I was supposed to go out with tonight who didn't give an explanation for cancelling. The other one lives in Oklahoma (typically a dealbreaker but maybe time to lower some standards), and after a few Facebook messages last night I responded to one with "Nice! Enjoy!" (referring to his week), and he responded "I can take a hint. Good luck with your search." And....scene.

This is the problem with email relationships. (Okay, "a" problem. There are many.) You can't hear the tone of an email. My awesome sarcasm and redonkulous humor (and requisite humility - HA!) sometimes get misconstrued as rudeness or being short or whatever. But still - not sure how this one went awry. Whatever. He doesn't even live in the same state.

Now accepting suggestions for my next move...

Karma's a bitch

I was de-friended on Facebook by three people this weekend. Of course I have no idea who did it (and probably never will), but really? Perhaps my incessant daily postings are getting annoying? The skinny arm photos getting old for some of you?

I have de-friended a couple of d-bags in the past, and although I was totally hoping for the veil of anonymity, both of them figured it out and called me on it. Stellar. So I guess it's true - what goes around, comes around.

But be forewarned, 13 blog readers - I will KNOW when one of you drops off.
That's not a threat. Just stating the facts, ma'am. :)

Sweeeeet.

My OKCupid date for tomorrow night just cancelled. No explanation, just "I can't make it." Awesome. At least I'm not PAYING to get rejected anymore...

Missed Connections

These posts on Craigslist absolutely crack me up. (And yes, I read them sometimes. And no, I'm not looking for my OWN missed connection.)

Some recent gems:
"Hello I saw you turning onto Preston in a white van. Let's see if this can turn into something."
"Sitting outside a Kroger (?) and you walked in. I wanted to ask for your number but my buddy came out and by then you were gone."
"You were with your parents at Quiznos in Arlington. Want to chat?"

I mean really folks?! I know there are a few people who have actually MADE that missed connection and end up married. And good for them. But for me - endless hours of reading pleasure. :)

Maybe that's why Tony broke up with her

Jessica Simpson annoys the crap out of me. Let's just be honest here. I appreciate that she's curvy. And hair extensions are fun. But that's really about all the positive things I can say about her.

She's not very bright. She has a weird breath-y voice when she sings. And I accidentally caught a few seconds of her latest straight-to-DVD hit, "Private Valentine," on TBS yesterday. Can safely say she won't be winning an Oscar anytime soon.

And then there's her choice of men. Nick Lachey. Lose-bag. Seriously what has he done in the last 10 years aside from "Newlyweds" and dating Vanessa Minnillo (don't get me started on her, either). John Mayer. Who I will eventually devote an entire blog post to. I do not understand his appeal. He is gross, and apparently racist. Tony Romo. Again, I don't get it. Yes he's a football star, but why the newsboy caps all the time? Me-thinks the Romo is balding.

And now Jessica tells Ellen that she only brushes her teeth three times a week?! Because her teeth are really slippery and she doesn't like that?! Um EW. When your teeth are dirty, they get what I call "sweaters" - which means they NEED to be brushed, young lady! And she said something about using her t-shirt to wipe them down. EW again. Maybe she got a little TOO into the third-world beauty habits she learned on "The Price of Beauty." Sigh.

I have a dream

How weird are dreams, really?

I never dream that I'm flying or getting married or anything cool like that. When I'm stressed I dream that I'm back working at Chili's (my most stressful job ever), and usually wake up in a cold sweat. I have had the dream where I'm back in high school, late for a test, can't open my locker, etc. - but never naked, thank god.

Most of my dreams take place in my very first house where I lived until I was 13. Isn't that weird, that my mind remembers that house so clearly? And my dog is always in my dreams, even though he died a few years ago. (RIP Barney!)

Another recurring dream is that I'm in the real-life version of "I Still Know What You Did Last Summer," even though I never saw the movie. I'm running for my life on some Caribbean island, stalked by a psychopath. The previews alone were apparently enough to terrify me for life.

And one time I dreamed (dreamt?) that I was best friends with Ben Affleck and Matt Damon. I had a crush on Ben but of course he just saw me as a buddy. Maybe my dreams aren't so far-fetched after all. Ha.