You can't make this stuff up

This, sadly, is a real job posting:

Title: Need Humble Woman Book Editor/Proofreader -

Description: I, Need Humble Woman Book Editor/Proofreader that can do a professional job on my urban novel book.


"Novel book?" Sounds like a best-seller, dude. (Ooh - that wasn't very humble of me, was it.)

WTA: WTF

(That's "Women Tell All: What The F@*#" for you non-Bachelor watching, non-abbreviators.)

Some good stuff last night - I would SO like to be in the audience for one of these.
Blakely took some (well-deserved) heat, but everything else was kind of a love-fest. (Why didn't they ask Casey S about her boyfriend? Or blogger Jenna about her breakdown? Or Monica about her lesbian tendencies? So many missed opportunities, Chris Harrison.) And man, that Samantha chick WAS a chihuahua. Muzzle. Now.

Was proud of Shawntel (who, side note, was wearing a dress that I own - although I wear it as a SHIRT. With PANTS.) for standing up for herself and calling those bitches out for being, well, bitches. And of course sweet lil southern belles Kacie B and Nikki were adorable and tugged at your heartstrings, y'all.

And then there was Courtney. In the Most Dramatic Women Tell All Ever, they allowed one of the final two to come back and address the firing squad. And fire away they did. I noticed a few things about Courtney's demeanor that were interesting: her voice seemed lower and softer. She didn't do the weirdo lip thing. And she actually cried. And apologized. Now, this could all just be for TV, but I'm not sure she's that great of an actress (or model, for that matter). I almost believed her. And I think she gave away the (not-so-secret) ending: that she and Ben are no longer together. She said something like "I didn't mean to hurt Ben. I really cared for him. Still DO care for him." Um, oops. Guess we'll have to wait for next week's After the Final Rose to learn the truth.

Ben came on at the end, but I am so over him I barely paid attention. Even the usually awesome bloopers were pretty lame - he has some ridiculous dance moves.

But how excited am I about Bachelor Pad 3?!?!?! Reid?! A barely-recognizable Frank?! Erica Rose (again)?! And ED. Please let Ed bring his little green short shorts. Please.

Hardest thing I have ever done.

Putting THIS together.

Seriously - it took three people 15 minutes and gathered a crowd in the office. (Sometimes I really feel bad for all the IT developers that sit in my area. They must be equally amused and annoyed every day.)

So the first tube didn't turn out so well, but I am happy to report that I am now crazy good at this. Mailing posters to everyone!

(Please don't tell my brother how much I struggled - he works for FedEx and can probably put this crap together in his sleep.)

Mum's the word

At the movies yesterday, saw a preview for 21 Jump Street. Which actually looks pretty funny. Although let's not kid ourselves: Channing Tatum is no Johnny Depp. And neither is Jonah Hill. Hell - Jonah's not even Richard Grieco. But it did get me thinking - there are so many TV shows turned into movies...I'm still waiting for Punky Brewster and My So-Called Life to hit the big screen.

And speaking of going back to high school (21 Jump Street's premise...follow me here), I also watched another ridiculous episode of Big Rich Texas and the moms were putting mums together for Homecoming. Had a flashback to senior year, one of the two years I was invited to Homecoming (cue pity party). For some reason I didn't get a mum, so at the football game I happened to find a discarded one in the parking lot that had obviously been run over by a car, and pinned it to my shirt. Classy. And probably why I didn't get invited more than twice.

I'm such a March Madness snob.

As the NCAA tournament looms, I've been obsessing about what seed UNC will get. 1? (doubtful.) 2? (probable.) And no matter how much I try to prepare myself, it will still make me cringe if/when we don't get the 1-seed. But then yesterday, a co-worker told me that he was so excited, as his alma mater has a chance to play in their conference final next weekend for an automatic bid for the first time in a LONG time. And that's all I needed to snap out of my "we're #2" pity party. Um, a 2-seed is still amazeballs. Especially when you think about the cutie patoot teams who are just so excited to go to the Big Dance at all. (And no, they probably don't like being called "cutie patoots," but whatever.)

From totally geek to totally chic. And then back to geek.

Moving back to Dallas after grad school was kind a low point for me. Couldn't find a job to save my life, was living in a one-bedroom garage apartment with my mom (which was in Highland Park, it's only saving grace), and driving the most disastrous automobile ever. It was a black Nissan Sentra that I bought from a Nigerian guy who placed an ad in the paper. (If that's not a good idea, I don't know what is.) The clincher: he didn't have the title, so for the entire year and a half that I owned that thing, I had to keep whiting out the date on the paper temporary license plate and blackening in a new date. WHITE TRASH.

I finally found a (very sad) job working as a receptionist at a Mercedes dealership. Had to wear a uniform and a nametag, which was a bummer after wearing a uniform for 8 years in middle/high school. Plus the fact that my high school friends were all doing really well and would come in to BUY a Mercedes. As I cowered behind the front desk. Oh the humanity.

So one weekend I had a hot date and the Sentra died. No big shocker there. But I had to get to the guy's house, so my manager told me I could borrow a car from the dealership. I said "um, okay." He told me to just pick one. I said, "um, OKAY. I'll take the white SLK convertible please." And what followed was the best 48 hours of my life. I drove that thing all around town, my mom and I paraded it around the grocery store parking lot, etc. etc. And then on Monday I had to turn in the pretty little key. I think I cried a little bit.

But at least I had that one shining weekend to see how the other half lives. And then got a bitch-slap back into reality.

Someone with too much time on his hands? Or evil genius? You be the judge.

I give you Suri's Burn Book. Sad that I didn't know about it until this week.
http://surisburnbook.tumblr.com/