An Update In Romance

I'm in love with Sheldon Cooper from The Big Bang Theory. Because he is exactly my type. And realizing this has been helpful. Because I found out exactly what I go for in a guy.

Seven Qualities Found in Sheldon Cooper

(which coincidentally can be found in 95% of all the men I have ever liked.)

1. Tall.
2. Dark hair.
3. Nerdy.
4. Awkward.
5. Uninterested in the love thing.
6. Doesn't really know I exist.
7. Likes geek sci-fi things like Doctor Who.

The reasons this is a problem for me (aside from the fact that he is a fictional character, therefore I can't marry him) are numbers 5 and 6 on the list. I suppose number 4 could also be a problem but we'll just skip that for now.

You see, I realized that in liking men who don't want to be in relationships because they are too busy living lives and who especially don't want to be in a relationship with me because I'm barely a blip (if even that on their radar), I am not exactly setting myself up for much of a chance at snagging a man as it were. What I'm really doing is setting myself up for a future of cats dressed up in Doctor Who costumes and yearly trips to Comic Con to try to find a bigger nerd than me.

Just a small taste of what you would expect to be on my blog in the future.

I need an intervention. Save me from my Cat Comic Con life.

"And That's the First Kind Word I've Had from Anyone Since Lydia Went Away..."

I like this guy. He is a really great guy. He is my friend and he's funny and cute and nice and smart and everything he ought to be. And the more I hangout with him the more I like him. But there is trouble a brewing...and it's two-fold. I don't think he likes me. And the other fold, I'm starting to not even think it's worth hoping for or pursuing. Because despite his being, ya know, flat-out great, I sort of feel we are just not from the same world. 

Ya know those movies from the 80s...where they talked about people being from the wrong side of the tracks? Like in Some Kind of Wonderful or Pretty in Pink? Well, that's me. I sort of feel like I'm coming from the wrong side of the tracks. Which is absurd because I do not. Me and mine do just fine, thank you very much. 

Now we all know that I prefer Duckie, but for the sake of this narrative let's just say I'm liking the Blaine guy. Which is, when you think about it, basically my whole problem. I should be grateful Blaine doesn't want me...because that leaves room for Duckie, right? Right?

But I can't help feeling that way because it feels like he's just more world worn or something. Sophisticated? That's not quite the adjective I'm looking for, but it's the same kind of feel. It's sort of like he's Mr. Darcy and I'm like Kitty Bennett. In fact, that's exactly what it's like. It's that he's too good for me, but not in a low self-esteem nonsense sort of way. I'm perfectly happy with who I am and the life I've lived. But my life doesn't seem made to fit with his life. Which is alright. It just has me feeling kind of down. I really like this guy. He has done all these amazing things and been all these amazing places and has this amazing brain. And I'm not even sure what about me is amazing yet. But trust me, I know I am amazing. I am just not sure what is my amazing specialty. What (aside from my terrific blogness) makes me amazing?

Jane, Mary, Kitty and Lydia (from Lost In Austen)
Kitty Bennet being the cute-ish but not bewitching, fun but not ridiculous, and not stuffy bookish one. You know...the normal, average one that nobody talks about. I mean heck, they sometimes cut her out of the adaptations. She doesn't even get to go to Brighton!

And no, I'm not fishing for compliments or feeling sorry for myself...because I think I'm pretty much overall good to great. I just haven't found my amazing.

And maybe that is my problem. Maybe that is why I keep falling for all these Pemberley types and I don't seem to bewitch them body and soul. Because right now, I'm only good to great. Which makes me the sort of girl who ends up living with my parents and weirdo sister at the end of the book...I don't even wind up with Mr. Collins. But I can't decide if that's a good or a bad thing. 

PS While looking for that picture of the P&P girls I found this humorous LOST (crazy ABC TV show) in Austen thing. I found it to be mildly amusing, so I thought I'd share.

Hypothermia

I came to see the snow. I didn't know it would be this cold. I wanted to bask in it, wrap myself up in its arms til the cold stopped being cold and burned. It hurts so good. But I'd rather it just didn't hurt at all. I wish I could light the fire in front of me instead of soaking the wood in icy chill. I wish there was that spark. But there isn't. And I'm here in the middle of the white-out. Frost bitten.

Things I Learned From Movies

LESSON FIVE:

"Nothing's more irresistible to a man than a woman who's in love with him."

This line comes from the classic film, The Sound of Music. The Baroness tells this to Maria during the party after Maria and Captain Von Trapp dance. Now we all know that the Baroness and the Nazis are the antagonists of this film so we can't just straight up believe her...but I've always though this was true. I mean after all, Maria is in love with the Captain and she gets him, while the Baroness is fond of the Captain and she gets the boot.

So the real question is, can this advice be trusted? Well who cares. I have always believed it's true, so it must be true. But I'm starting to question the validity of this. After all, I have spent my life openly flaunting my affection for boys without a single one of them finding me irresistible. Maybe I don't really love them so it doesn't work. Maybe I'm just not Julie Andrews. Either way...I'm starting to think Baroness Schraeder lied to me.

Maybe if I can accomplish this expert level of "staring adoringly," then I will be irresistible.

My Most Romantic Moment

I stood there in a swarm of busy singles. All searching and laughing a little too loud. Trying to be seen and trying to see without appearing to try.

"Yeah, we should do something"s and "Give me a call"s flitting around like butterflies. Landing here. Landing there. Flying away as though it was never there to begin with. The unspecial somethings that will be stressed over and analyzed later. Every nuance, every gesture under intense scrutiny.

I begin to leave. I am done being in the buzz. Then 10 feet from the door, I see him walk in. I've seen him before. Many times. He's older than me. He knows me. I am the little girl. One of his sister's little friends. He is Adonis. I keep walking to the door. I smile. He continues his course. I smile.

He smiles. Touches my shoulder and says, "Hey."

In reply I say, "Gab har be do."

He keeps walking. I am a puddle of shame by the door.

Who's With Me?

April is officially the best month EVER! Observe:

April 1: Source Code and Jane Eyre (which was released other places before then but didn't come here til April 1)
April 8: Hanna, Arthur, AND Soul Surfer
April 10: My Future Boyfriend
April 12: Michael Jackson The Experience for Kinect
April 15: Scream 4 (which I might not see because I'm a coward...but just knowing that it comes out is so exciting)
April 19: Portal 2
April 22: Water for Elephants
April 23: DOCTOR WHO SEASON 6 PREMIERE!
April 29: Fast Five and Prom
AND THE ROYAL WEDDING!!!

Plus now I find out that April 18 we have "William & Kate: The Lifetime Original Movie!" It's going to be SO good.

Hooray for April!

Vacate the Premises

My faithful readers will have noticed that I missed blogging all last week. This is because I was on vacation. In California. Let’s go through the highlights of the trip.

1. Flat tire. We were an hour into the trip when suddenly: POT HOLE. So two hours later, I’m a day park-hopping at Disneyland poorer and we are back on the road with 3 trusty tires and 1 new tire.
2. 6 to 7 hours of bumper to bumper traffic.
3. The island we were on flooded.
4. The power got knocked out.
5. It rained nearly the whole time.
6. 11 boys, 5 girls, one bathroom. 
7. The creepy old black and white photo of a little girl outside of my room.
8. I forgot my towel.
9. Sunburned forehead which led to a leprous forehead.
10. There was sand everywhere in the house.
11. I paid to NOT eat crab cakes.
12. Failing massively at boogey boarding.
13. Tar on the beach.
14. My car was kidnapped for several hours.
15. Then I was kidnapped in my car for half an hour.
16. The boy I have a little crushlette on called me “buddy” which is the worst!
17. The whale we paid to see fell asleep.
18. My bangs were driving me INSANE!
19. When I went for my mani-pedi the little mani-pedi ladies kept tricking me into getting more and more expensive upgrades.
20. My team lost in the NCAA tournament.
21. Bottom bunk in California where an earthquake is imminent, which could lead to being smooshed.
22. Pooped on by a bird. (To be fair “Lindsey” got most of the poop…but I still got a little on me too.)
23. Parking ticket.
24. Speeding ticket…an hour away from home.

That’s not to say the trip was all bad. Mostly it was fun. A lot of fun. And I made a bundle of new "buddies." But due to the unexpected expense of the tire and tickets the trip ended up costing me about 3 times more than I thought it would.

However, I did get some shampoo and conditioner that made your head feel minty fresh AND I was introduced to the fun-time that is playing Set. Also there was an olde-timey candy store that supplied me with enough Giant Pixie Stix to keep me happy for a long while yet.

Because This Makes Me Happy

This is adorable. I love this song so much anyway, and then to add the beauty that is Disney love to it...well I don't know if anything could be better. Aside from the shocking lack of Belle, it is perfect. Although, come to think of it, the Beast always knows her name so I suppose their storyline is not applicable...

During the dance break...I got a little pinched behind the eyes, a little misty, I'll admit it.

Hard To Get

As many of you know, I like the men-folk. A lot of the men-folk. A lot of the time. With a lot of enthusiasm. All my life I have been pretty excited about men-folk and maybe a little over-zealous in my pursuit of them. Perhaps my zeal contributed to what I like to call boyfreakouticus syndrome. It is a tragic condition where the boy I like finds out that I like him or thinks that I like him and he freaks out. I could give you many case studies that show I am a carrier for this disease, the most notable of which occurred in 2001 and involved a stapler.

Since I am afflicted with this disease it really impedes my love-life. Turning things into more of an “or lack thereof” situation. So now I like this new fellow. He goes to my church and is absolutely adorable. He came up to me and sat by me once which was great and we played a board game once. I think he’s super cute. So far the only downside is that he doesn’t quite seem to realize how funny I am. Oh and also that I am TERRIFIED of boyfreakouticus striking it’s next unsuspecting victim. So I have decided to try my hand at playing hard to get.

The Rules to Playing Hard to Get

By Ms Amber

1. Do not talk to him.
2. If he tries making eye-contact, look away.
3. Try not to sit by him.
4. Wait until he picks a Sunday School class then go to the other one.
5. When he comes up and talks to you, be a spaz and say mostly nothing.
6. Hide.

I think it will work out quite well, don’t you?

Pogonology

This morning while walking into work, I noticed a man. A man with a beard. And I am in love with this man. Not in an oh-bet-he'd-be-attractive-without-his-beard kind of way but in an I-love-him kind of way. This is unprecedented. I do not like beards. I do not like men with beards. But I definitely liked this one. So I'm now being forced to reconsider my staunch position on facial hair. (That is to say, my position in regards to facial hair on men. I am still firmly against facial hair on ANY woman.)

He that hath a beard is more than a youth, and he that hath no beard is less than a man: and he that is more than a youth is not for me, and he that is less than a man, I am not for him...

So Mr. Beardy, if you're out there reading this, please find me again and we will go on a date and I will see how I feel about beards.

Because I'm so efficient. Johnny on the spot and all...

So a while back I was crushing on this guy. We’d been building a rapport. Perhaps, too much of a rapport. He started calling me pal. And buddy. Etc. I felt very much like Millie Dillmount in Thoroughly Modern Millie when Trevor Graydon calls her “John” and she tries to make it not be a bad thing. Word to the wise: it can never NOT be a bad thing. 

So I strive to get past the whole “pal” thing. I am told by someone, ”Maybe he is just one of those people who says pal all the time.” Well, regardless if that is true or not I was speaking with this young man the other day when he says to me “something something something my girlfriend something something.” WHAT?! Are you kidding me! Here we have been building this rapport for months and months, and suddenly he has a GIRLFRIEND? What is with boys doing stuff like this. (Not getting girlfriends…because I get that. I mean sure I’m mad that the girlfriend they get isn’t me…but whatever.) 

In what planet is it a good idea to not disclose that type of information early on in the game when it is pretty clear (I am not a subtle creature) that the girl in the scenario is not only in it for the banter. I mean really. Disclosure. It would have nipped the crush in the bud and friendship would have ensued. Instead all this time spent primping and all my witticisms were for naught. Because he has a girlfriend. Crush crushed. 

Oh well, at least we’re pals…

The End In the Beginning

Why hello dear readers. As the more avid amongst you will undoubtedly have noticed, there is no longer a day counter on the right-hand column of my blog. Oh no dear readers there is not. That counter has counted it's last day, ending on day eight thousand two hundred eighty two. 8282. That is the day that I finally had my first kiss.

It is Valentine's Day. I am thoroughly un-boyfriended and beyond cute. The oh-so koo-l Koo Koo Kangaroo were having a performance. I love them. So I rounded up the troops and we set off for what ended up being a pretty incredible night.

The venue where they were performing was, shall we say, cozy. There was a fire-pit outside and people were gathered around. At all their performances Koo Koo Kangaroo has the supplies to make friendship bracelets laid out so their fans and their soon-to-be-fans can craft and socialize. So while waiting for the performances to start we were all mostly gathered around the fire crafting. It was just like girls camp...but with boys.

The performances began and the warm-up bands played. They were all rather fun. Between the second and third sets I got a chance to talk to Bryan and have him sign my t-shirt. I had made a t-shirt with Bryan and Neil heart-guys.

The heart-guys. Neil is left Bryan is right.

The third band started and they were awesome. The boy in the band looked like Joe Jonas. It was pretty cool. Then it was time for Koo Koo Kangaroo to take the stage.

Koo Koo Kangaroo took the stage in all their glory and awesomeness. We picked up our feet and stomped it, stomped it. We a-o-a-ed. We were pirates and ninjas. We shook our feet. We thought colors were awesome. And I'll just stop right there happily because the best sounding letters are LMNOP.

So the show got over. It was over too soon as far as I was concerned. Koo Koo Kangaroo is so much fun. So my friends and I were milling around by the fire-pit just talking. I think it was my friend "Lisa" that suggested I should see if Bryan would kiss me, as this would make an excellent first kiss story. Plus Bryan is awesome. So after lots of internal and external talking myself into having the courage to ask (and copious amounts of lip-balm), I stand in line to talk with Bryan.

"Hey Bryan. I have a question and it's totally cool if you say no. But I have never kissed anyone before, and I was wondering if you would give me my first kiss..." I ask feeling like a total tool.

"For reals? Even with my chipped tooth?" he questions in reply.

"Yeah. But it's cool if you say no."

And then I'm not sure what happened next. Maybe he said something. Maybe I dithered on some more. Who knows. Because the next thing I remember happening is Bryan kissing me. Not a chaste and swift peck. A rather long (it seemed) kiss. And then a little bit of tongue. I was in shock to begin with with.Oh my goodness. He's kissing me. I'm being kissed. What's going on? I know I'm supposed to do something. Like move my lips. Or kiss back. I can't do that. I don't know how. I totally should have practiced on the back of my hand as a child. I did say I'd never kissed someone before. He can't expect me to be like a professional at this. Oh my goodness. There is tongue. Aaaah! I wasn't prepared for that. Aaaaah! So I pull away. I don't know what happens next. Lots of talking with my friends. 

Bryan says "Oh I didn't even dip you."

So next thing I know, I am having my second ever kiss. The exact same panic floods through my mind.  I'm doing this wrong. I'm making a fool of myself. Amber...why aren't you even trying to kiss back. Oh you're a fool. This is so new to me. I'm glad to know that I was right about enjoying kissing. I always was sure I would. I'm sure I'd have more fun if everyone wasn't watching...and if I was participating. Why are you just being a dead fish, Amber? He brings me back up. I think I giggle and say thank you. He says something about next time we'll need to work up to tongues. I am still slightly in shock. I think I said something in reply. But have no idea what. It didn't really hit me until we got to the car. Then I fully understood.

I am no longer VL. I have kissed a guy. (Well mostly he kissed me, but it counts.) My first kiss was with one of the coolest guys ever who is in a band that I love, on Valentine's Day, after going to one of the best shows ever.

I defy anyone else to have a better first kiss story.

P.S. How was the kiss? Not that I have a lot of experience, and not that I was able to process a whole lot during my panic stricken moments, BUT it was very nice. I wish I had participated more, rather than being passively kissed. Oh well. He definitely wasn't lacking in enthusiasm. *blush

The blurry, not so good picture that "Mike" took of my first kiss. *blush again.

The BF aka The Body Finder

The sheer incredibleness of this book's awesomity has left me completely overwhelmed. I am obsessed. I just finished reading and I want to just start it over again. I was so stressed and excited and nervous and anxious and frustrated and EVERYTHING while reading this book that I had to just stop and take a moment to catch my breath. I feel a little foolish for becoming so involved. It was like I was there. For every creepy moment, my skin was crawling and I felt like I needed to carry my mace around with me. For every lovey moment, I just wanted to giggle. And I have never loved and hated the word tantalizing so much in my life. This book was amazing. I'm amazed.

Disclaimers (aka little spoilers...not big ones):

• There is a serial killer.  Which is creepy. You get some killer POV. Which is THE CREEPIEST. So if that is a deterrent, be deterred.
• There is one f-word about mid-way through the book. And a smattering of other "regular" expletives. So if that is a deterrent, be deterred.
• There is girl loves boy stuff. And some pretty intense kissing. So if you aren't interested in hearing about how great this guy is or voyeuring on some very fun kissing scenes (and one really UN-fun kissing scene)...then don't read it.
• The book is Young Adult. I mean, make sure you don't somehow tell some child to read this book. (See above.)

BUT SEE FOR YOURSELF IF YOU WANT TO INVEST YOUR TIME.

You can read an excerpt (the first 70 pages, I think) right here.

Hey BUSt a Move

So the other day I had to walk to the local kinkos to make copies. It was a very very very bad day. I was super stressed because I didn't feel like my project (the need for the copies mentioned above) was going very well and I was running right up to my deadline. I had worked on it the night before and I had slept very little. (Which isn't too weird for me since I am almost a vampire.) But since I went to bed late, I overslept a little and thus missed my opportunity to shower. So...I looked terrible. I was wearing these awful jeans (my only clean pair) that make my butt look hugenormous because the pockets puff up all funny right on the bum. And also make my legs look impossibly short (even shorter than normal) because they used to be way too long so we tried to hem them but we went a little too far and now they are floody. And I was wearing let's just call it...my ugly shirt. Not a good look.

So I make my copies and start walking back to work. I am thinking to myself "I hate this day so much! Why isn't it tomorrow already!" when the orange hand turns to the white walking dude and I cross the street.

As I am crossing the street there is a bus stopped at the red light. In the bus is a pretty attractive 20-something bus driver. And he mouths to me through his closed window "How are you?" And I just sort of smile and keep walking to the other side of the street. I have to cross the other way so I'm waiting for the light to change.

As I am waiting, I look over out of the corner of my eye at the bus. Mr. Hottipants Bus Driver is just staring at me. It kind of freaked me out. Not that he was like leering but that he was gawking at me on my ugly day. So I moved so some other person waiting to cross the street was blocking me from the bus driver's view. And then the bus driver inched the bus forward til he could see me again! It was utterly bizarre. Then the light changed and I walked across the street and he turned left away from me. But it was so weird! I mean really...it was an ugly day. Maybe I'm cuter than I had originally thought

Too Bad

There is this man at work. He is beautiful. Honestly probably the most attractive man I have ever seen in real life. And he wears sweaters over his white collared shirt and tie. So unbelievably attractive. He is, of course, married. 

Which is depressing for me but really fortunate for his wife. Who is the luckiest lady in the world.

Seriously. This guy is like the perfect blending of Brad Pitt and Hugh Jackman. Like this only well...his hair is darker. He is truly a sight to behold. 

Often times I find myself thinking..."What a lucky lady" (meaning his wife) and then I wonder....

"Do you think he has a single brother?"

Pfft

You all know about my one true love Keith the Cookie Maker. And you may remember that much like his beard is growing out…we have been growing apart. Well…he’s dead to me.

Yesterday as I was journeying toward my homestead I passed where KtCM works making the delicious cookies. My heart thrilled at the sight of him, despite his slumocky backwoodsman appearance. I imagined it would be just like in SBFSB when Benjamin shaves off his beard and VOILA…babeness ensues. I imagined our adorable-pants children running around being good-looking and eating cookies. I imagined- wait. What? What is that in your hand KtCM? A smoke? YOU’RE SMOKING? In front of the children?! KtCM is a SMOKER. That is so unappealing to me. So irrevocably unappealing to me. (Unless he were to quit and etc) But I don’t think he will. And frankly I don’t more than slightly care if he does or not. (Naturally I wish he would quit. I wish everyone would quit. It’s gross. And smelly. And bad for you. And your teeth.) So KtCM and I are done. 

Our unborn children are up somewhere in heaven weeping because they will never be born…but I am unmoved. KtCM is no longer my love. Keep your dirty beard and smokes...I'm over it.

The real KtCM walking away from me. Hehehe. And some stranger in a green shirt.

OJ Did It

This morning I woke up early. I got ready. I had enough time so I turned on the old ipod and sang and head wobbled to Newsies while putting on my make up and doing my hair. I was able to examine my clothing and pick out a tres cute outfit and chose heels for while in the office and flip-flops for the arduous trek to and from my car. I grabbed food for breakfast and food for lunch. I grabbed my orange juice to go and went on my merry way in Tilly. About 2 minutes into my journey I feel cold-wet on my skirt. What? Is my car leaking? Did it rain last night and I left my window down? No. And anyway that wouldn’t be the top of my skirt. Is the steering wheel wet? No. Oh what is this? I have wet on my jacket too? Did my milk spill? No. It’s not milk. Orange Juice? Orange juice. When did my orange juice spill? Is the cup leaking? No. What? And that’s as much as I’ve been able to figure out. It appears that I somehow dumped like 4 ounces of orange juice on my jacket and it poured down onto my skirt. And I didn’t notice myself doing this somehow. Fortunately you can’t see it on my skirt or jacket and it didn’t seep through to my white blouse! Phew! But I do now smell faintly of orange. It’s not a bad thing I guess. And I feel super adorable despite the orange scented skirt and jacket because "Jenn" did my hair and it is basically the cutest thing ever. Observe: 

So despite the orange juice debacle I am having a pretty sweet day. Not to mention we had Chili Verde and I spoke to the new love of my life. And I looked and smelled pretty good. Wink-face.

And just for the record and to ease the minds of those of you who may be worried let me state that I love orange juice and this incident has not hurt our relationship in the slightest. Orange Juice, worry not. I will still drink you at least once a day. My day would feel wrong without you.

Is there a Doctor in the house?

I have a boyfriend. His name is Dr Pepper. I love Dr Pepper SOOOOOO much. It is a problem. You see Dr Pepper is not a human. Dr Pepper is a caffeinated carbonated soda with 23 flavors of delicious. Dr Pepper is the best. But also bad for you. And addictive. I am addicted to Dr Pepper. And not just in the “oh the caffeine” I get a headache when I don’t drink it kind of way…but also an emotional addiction.

The Story of Us

Dr Pepper and I met when I was but a young girl. When I was in elementary school he was a family friend and we’d be together during social functions like parties and just the occasional no occasion drink. But when I new years came around when I was twelve my family and I decided that Dr Pepper (and all of his relatives) were just not a good fit with our family and we swore them off for a year. It was not a big deal since Dr Pepper and I were only casual acquaintances. When that year was over Dr Pepper and I didn’t really keep in touch. Over the years we’d see each other at social events and it was like old times but we only ever met if someone else brought Dr Pepper. Then a couple years ago Dr Pepper and I went to every movie together. It started out as I needed someone to help me through midnight movies. And then we had a steady movie-going relationship. Then on Tuesdays at work I’d struggle and I’d call on Dr Pepper to get me through the day. And now over time, our relationship has progressed to where we are with each other nearly every day. It’s love.

Sadly however, like most addictions Dr Pepper has led to more hard-core beveraging. That’s right. I’m now into Dublin Dr Pepper. I know. I know. You’re shocked and appalled. Me too. It costs nearly two dollars for 8 oz of the stuff. That’s like 50¢ per ounce! It’s ridiculous. And yet so delicious. It’s pure cane sugar…not this high fructose corn syrup nonsense. Pfft. Although mostly I still drink the cheap stuff, it is becoming quite pricey.

My love for Dr Pepper is becoming a major problem. First of all I’m now dependant on the stuff to make it through a day of work or else I just slump there. Second I can just feel myself ballooning because of how many calories there are in each ounce. Third I’m beginning to spend more money on soda than I have in recent past spent on iTunes so I’m becoming very un-thrift. And finally if I’m going to run a half marathon I can’t do it with an IV of Dr Pepper. 

So. I am swearing off the stuff. That’s right. Dr Pepper and I are breaking up and going our separate ways. At least until after January. Now I’m not saying I won’t slip up and in a state of sleep deprivation induced desperation turn to the pep Dr Pepper gives…but I’m never going to rely on Dr Pepper so much again. We had a good run but like all good things our co-dependent relationship must come to end. It’s time for me to move on. Water, here I come.

Why I Haven't Blogged In A While aka Seriously?

Hello readers! I know I’ve been silent for a while. Let me explain why. I have experienced minor trauma/drama so I have not been in any condition to blog.

Several weeks ago I went to pick up a sandwich from Keith the Cookie Maker. I was so excited. I got ready that morning and put on make up because I knew that I would be seeing him that day. So I was really ready. But then when I went into the Deli tragedy struck. It was as though I had been shot through the heart. KEITH HAS GROWN A GROSS GOATEE. I know. I couldn’t believe it myself. And what’s worse…he cut his curly hair to really short so his gross goatee is longer than his hair. It was very upsetting. I was not even attracted to him! Me! I wasn’t attracted to KtCM! Pure madness. I mean in the words of everyone on Grey’s Anatomy…”Seriously? Seriously!” I just have to ask the men of the blogiverse…Why do you insist on ruining yourself with weirdly sculpted facial hair. You are not an English shrub. Why do you want topiary on your face? And to you women out there who occasionally think weird beards and goatees and flavor savers are attractive…what are you thinking? Bleargh. I mean don’t get me wrong I appreciate the rugged handsomeness of scruff just as much as the next person. And occasionally there is a man like Tom Selleck who can pull off the moustache. But pretty much every time facial hair is a BAD choice. So seeing my beloved KtCM defile himself in such a manner, well I sent me through a loop.

Then once I recovered from that I went on a mini-trip with my friends. Mostly it was fun. We played laser tag and ended up meeting a horde of little boys (I say little boys because they were all like 19 and too young for me) but I totally loved one of them. He knew Flash Gordon. So naturally love was there on my side. They also followed us to where we were staying and pull a prank on us the next night…so it was sort of a fun little trip friendship. BUT when we were on our trip I had a major epiphany. It came to me while “Anne” and I were dying and abandoned by the rest of our so called friends as we were being forced to scramble up Death Mountain. After “Anne” had nearly fainted and I felt the panic of needing to drag an unconscious woman down a mountain unattended by anyone (since we were stranded), I realized that I am an indoorsy girl. And as such…I really need to find a man who likes indoorsy girls. (While we’re at it…explain to me why people like getting sweaty and gross climbing up a mountain when it is 110 degrees outside. I don’t get it.)

Once I had recovered from the anxiety of the trip and loving a boy who was far too young for me, one of my guy friends and I were talking about getting set up on dates. He mentioned that he only wanted to go if he saw a picture and if the girl were “cute enough”. Well basically I flew off the handle at him because I think that is rude and jerk-faced. And then he and I wound up discussing me. So I give you his thoughts on me:

“You know that I think you are hiding a good-looking you, remember how I said that?” “You have nice hair.” “You aren’t completely appalling.” “You aren’t really unattractive.” “Your skin looks nice.”

Seriously? Seriously! After listening to all these…I’ll just say “critiques” I was about ready to jump off a bridge. It really hurt my feelings. Jerk head. I mean…who wants to be told that they aren’t you know revolting but if they just did this, this, this, and this THEN they would be decent. No one, that’s who.

Then once I recovered from that experience, I went with a couple of my gal pals to a hang out with this fraternity. Basically it was fun. We played pudding pictionary and my team won (of course). And there was this total dreamboat who was wearing plaid. (Plaid is my kryptonite…I’m helpless against it.) I spent the majority of the night thinking Oh Plaid Guy…please speak to me. But I couldn’t really think of an organic way to meet him so I didn’t. After it was over he said “Who wants to help clean dishes?” And I said, “I LOVE to clean dishes” in a funny way. He laughed. And I was like Okay…nice. So I said “So do you really want help with those dishes.” No response. But there were other people talking and, ya know, maybe he didn’t hear me so I said, “Ummm do you really need some help washing those dishes…” no response…”okay boy whose name I don’t know that’s not listening to me…” And then he turns around with like a crazy laugh (like unstable clown crazy laugh) and says that his name is “Jordan.” And I ask one more time if he really wants help with those dishes. He doesn’t say anything just sort of keeps up the crazy laugh thing. And I turn around and say to my ladies…”Actually, I’m good.” And we leave. Seriously “Jordan”? Seriously! If you’re going to be a total babe don’t be crazy laugh guy. I’m reminded of Barney Stinson’s Hot Crazy Scale.  

Sweet “Jordan” you were so cute…and then so crazy.

Now that I have recovered from all these events…I intend to blog more diligently.

The Best Looking Man In the World

WOW. That's all I have to say. ABC Family way to find the best looking man in the world and put him on one of your highly addictive and highly trashy shows. He is fantastic. The man is Ian Harding. 

I feel like the heavens are going "AAAAH" in revelation. He is so amazing. In the show (Pretty Little Liars) he plays are straight-laced high school English teacher who happens to be in love with one of his students. Oh well. He is beautiful. I can imagine nothing more attractive that a tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed wonder. There he is. He is a perfect mixture of Tom Welling and James Marsden. What could be better than that?

That's my kind of arithmetic. 

Do you think there's anyway we could get him to give me my first kiss?