Waiting for My Real Life to Begin

The life and times of a girl named Swishy.

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

I just feel like I have to share this

So my brother is on break from college and he just got a job. Guess what his job is. Just GUESS.

OK, ready? Whatever you guessed: WRONG. My brother is test driving motorized wheelchairs. Like, in a warehouse somewhere. Just PICTURE that, will you? This is a kid, by the way, who managed to both drive into a ditch AND knock over a mailbox before he even got his driver's license. Which, by the way, we are not ever allowed to mention in my front of my mother without risking an hour-long lecture on being nice to our baby brother, but I digress.

Anyway, today was his first day, and apparently he now has an unshakeable case of the dizzies thanks to hours spent rolling around in slow circles. ("Every time I close my eyes, it's like I'm in the wheelchair again!" he says.) However, on the plus side, he also wants to be a politician someday, and as my sister points out: "Now he'll be able to relate to seniors when he's running for office and talking about health care. He could put together an ad showing him going in circles!"

So there's that.

Monday, January 28, 2008

Crazy love

Did you know there's a very soon-to-be famous author in our midst? It's true. Her name is Eileen and she makes funny comments and has a funny blog and--ohhhh, yes--has an even funnier book called Unpredictable coming out next week. NEXT WEEK! How exciting is that?!

I will let our friend Amazon.com tell you a little bit about Unpredictable:

Sophie Kintock isn't crazy, she just wants her guy back. And posing as a psychic to give his new girlfriend a face reading designed to break them up isn't going overboard, is it? Don't answer that.

Faking psychic powers turns out to be easy and fun, especially after a few lessons from Nick, the cute (if a bit nerdy) skeptic, who knows all the tricks of the trade. But her readings do a lot more than she could have predicted, and soon Sophie needs to figure out whether the answers lie in the stars--or in herself.


To celebrate, I plan to go out with Eileen and Manic and Jess and see how close we can all come to getting arrested before one of the stops on Eileen's book tour. Wait. What I MEANT to say is that to celebrate, we're going to have ourselves a little contest. What's the craziest thing you've done in the name of love--or, at least, misguided, lustful obsession? Put it in the comments, and next Tuesday--book release day!--I'll announce the winner. The prize? A signed copy of the book and a Magic 8 ball, which, let's be honest here, is a pretty damn awesome prize.

OK, I'll start. I'll tell two stories, but before I tell them, I would just like to emphasize that they were both A VERY LONG TIME AGO. All right? All right.

Story 1. When I was in high school, there was a super hot guy named Mike that my best friend and I completely, totally lusted after. Every day after lunch, he would go to his locker, and we'd take turns walking past him and touching his butt. She got odd days, I got evens, and the hallway was always so crowded he never even noticed. I don't think.

OK, well, that year we were in this TV production class and made a show that aired on local cable. We were doing a holiday special, and we had to go out and get footage of local decorations. NATURALLY, we went straight to Mike's neighborhood, and, you know, I don't really remember whose idea this was (ha), but long story short, we were using the camera to try to zoom into Mike's bedroom window when all of a sudden a cop pulled up behind us. He was all, "Girls? Is there a problem?" And I was like, "Oh, no, officer, we're just doing a school project, and I had to get something out of the back seat, and I couldn't reach it without taking off my seat belt, and we didn't want to be driving around without seat belts, because, you know, we're really responsible, so we just pulled over and ..." He was like, yeah, OK, whatever, I'm gonna follow you out of the subdivision now, and the whole time my friend was COMPLETELY crapping her pants because she had just gotten her license and she had never been pulled over and her parents were SO going to kill her and never let her drive again, never ever, not even when she was 80.

That wasn't the worst part, though. Can I tell you the worst part? This was the worst part: While we were spying through Mike's bedroom window, we were talking nonstop to each other. Stuff like ... ohhhh ... "He is so hot, I wonder if he's a good kisser, he has the cutest butt ever." Stuff like that. Well, a few days later, we were in class, and we put the tape in to edit. Before we knew it, Mike's bedroom curtains came up on about 10 different TV screens across the room and all you could hear, on the highest volume possible, was the two of us squealing, "He seriously has THE hottest butt EVER!" In front of our entire class. Which, incidentally, completely blew our chances with a much more attainable hot guy who happened to be in the room. Sad!

OK, next story. So, when I was in college, I did this internship one summer and then came back the next summer as sort of a little boss of the new interns. I am proud to say I put that power, however flimsy and transparent, to use quite often, but in no better way than forcing one of the interns to call a boy I liked and conduct a pretend survey so that I could find out stuff about him.

Yeah. I totally did. I made her pretend to be from the national headquarters of a student society he was part of and give him a fake survey about what he was doing and where he wanted to get a job and so on. Isn't that a great idea?!? I've got to be honest, I was pretty proud of my ingenuity. I wrote up the questions for her and coached her through it and everything. I didn't really find anything out that I didn't already know, but I think it was more about being bored and wanting to see if we could pull it off than anything. Which, by the way, we SO did. We even used a NYC area code in case he checked the caller ID.

OK, umm ... I think I should stop talking now. I will just end by saying the first chapter of Eileen's book is here, and you can order it now here, and enter the contest by hitting that little comment button. Have a good Monday, everyone!

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Best buy

So I was sitting on the bathroom counter with my feet in the sink, listening to the radio and getting ready for work like I always do, when I went to put on my lipstick. I took off the cap, put on the lipstick, and said out loud to myself, "Wow ... this lipstick sure was money well spent!"

The talking out loud to myself while sitting on my bathroom counter with my feet in the sink? Not the slightest bit unusual. The part where I said something that would come out of the mouth of a 75-year-old? A little more unusual ... but it's true! I ADORE my lipstick. I got it for free in this Oprah contest I won, believe it or not, and it just happened to be the most perfect shade ever so NATURALLY it got discontinued a few years later. Well. I tracked that little lipstick down and got two tubes sent to me. At the time, I was like, should I really order two? Because it's kinda pricey, and maybe I'll find a shade I like just as much or better before I go through them both, and blah blah blah. Well, I most certainly have NOT found a replacement shade and let me tell you, that extra tube of lipstick (I could only order two) is turning out to be one of the best things I have ever bought. Because it bought me time. Which is money. Or at least pretty lips.

So then I was like, what other things have I bought that have turned out to be awesome purchases? My couch, for sure. I was driving around one day running errands, and I passed this furniture store that was having a going-out-of-business sale. I went in, saw it and bought it for half-price. I NEVER do things like that. Usually I have to sit and think about it and make bar graphs and pie charts about the pros and cons and ask everyone from my best friend to the mailman what they think, but that day, I just did it. It was a complete impulse buy and I am SO glad I did it. I love, love, LOVE my couch. It doesn't look like anything special, but it is awesome. It's sage green with brown trim and ... let's see ... seven pillows, and I sleep on it at least once a week.

And my glasses. I don't remember how old I was when I got my first pair of glasses, but suffice it to say every single pair I owned from that point on was absolutely terrible. Horrible, horrible, ugly, unflattering glasses. When I broke my cheekbone in high school, I wore one contact and bumped into walls for three months because I was too vain to wear my glasses. HORRIBLE glasses.

So last year, as you may recall, I finally decided to get new glasses. And since I'd never picked out a pair I liked, I let the ladies in the doctor's office pick them out for me ... and I actually wear them sometimes! Miracle of miracles! I was there the other day and they dilated my pupils, so I had to wear glasses for a while ... and I actually ran errands in glasses! In public! With people around! So yes, money very well spent.

(The lipstick and the glasses. My place is too messy right now to take a picture of the couch.)



So what have been YOUR best purchases?

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Whoa

I am COMPLETELY FREAKED OUT by this: Heath Ledger's dead? At 28?!?!

There has been an email flurry for the past five minutes between my sisters and I about this, and my mom just sent me a text message asking if I'd heard. That sentence, incidentally, should tell you all kinds of things about my family.

But ... wow. Just, wow.

Monday, January 21, 2008

And they call women crazy ...

Happy Monday, everyone! My left shift key keeps sticking and is driving me absolutely batshit crazy. Other than that, a couple quick admininstrative details ...

* The winner of our nice prize is Kim! But if you commented on that post and want a little something in the mail, email me your address and I'll send it out (as soon as I get around to sending out a couple OTHER things I keep forgetting to send out).

* Good news, my baby is now out of jail. It would have been nice if he'd been out in time to save my lotion, but ... oh, well. I guess Jack Bauer can't save EVERYTHING.

OK, now a quick story:

A guy comes up to me. A much older guy. A GRANDFATHER. And he says, "Swishy, can I ask you a personal question?" I'm like, ummm ... OK. And he goes, "If I asked you out on a date, what would you say?"

OK. Really. What would YOU say? Keep in mind that you are caught COMPLETELY off guard because WHAT KIND OF GUY asks out a girl 30 years younger than him? I'll tell you what kind of guy: politicians, celebrities and millionaires. People with money or power. Of which this guy has neither.

This is what I said: "Well, you know, I'm really, really, really busy, and I go out of town a lot, so I'm not really around very much."

You would think that most guys would understand what that means. But as we've established, this guy is not like most guys. A few minutes later, he comes back.

"Swishy," he says, "will you be my Valentine?"

Will I be his WHAT? Am I in third grade? Isn't Valentine's Day like several weeks away?

And then he takes my hand and kisses it. But he doesn't stop there, oh, no, he doesn't. He starts MAKING OUT with my hand. Full-on, mwah, mwah, mwah, making out, and every time I move my hand away, he moves his head along with it. I should post a video reenactment because, for real, you would die. Thankfully--THANKFULLY--there was no tongue.

I am, however, still scrubbing my hands.

Friday, January 18, 2008

Why you shouldn't go grocery shopping hungry



I walked into the grocery store and BAM! Hello, preservative-laden chocolate chip cookies! There was a massive stack of them literally two steps inside the door, and they were 40 cents off, and I'm sorry, but I am weak.

I'm also about to throw up.

(In my defense, I did spend a whole hour in the kitchen tonight trying to make this chicken and brown rice thing I saw in a magazine. It wasn't BAD but it wasn't GREAT, so I took three bites and then I was off to the cookies. But at least I TRIED to eat like a grown-up before having chocolate chip cookies--RANDOM chocolate chip cookies, by the way ... I mean, when do I ever buy Soft Batch cookies? EVER?--for dinner. So ... yeah.)

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Leftovers

A few things here and there ...

* I haven't really watched much of American Idol since the Fantasia season (which was laaaame!) but oh, oh, oh, was that show like a big, Olympic-sized pool in the middle of the Sahara tonight. There has been SUCH crap on TV lately, they could have had 50 Sanjayas on tonight and it still would have been must-see TV. I watched it while I was working out and I totally kept laughing out loud. (The stalker guy? The wax guy? Ohhh, I died!) The funny thing was that EVERYONE ELSE at the gym had it on, too. The middle-aged guy on one side of me. The teenage girl on the other side of me. The grandpa three machines down. And THEY were all laughing out loud, too.

Oh, that Simon Cowell. Bringing America together, one elliptical at a time.

* So the lotion thing I alluded to in my last post? This is what happens when you're throwing things in your bag at 5:30 a.m. on one hour of sleep. I was SO careful about putting all my liquid everythings in the checked bag, and then at the last second I was like, oh! Lotion! And tossed it (duh) in the carry-on. So I go through security, and they stop me (again) and search me (again) and tell me I have to check my bag (again). Except I CAN'T check this bag, because it has stuff I absolutely, positively need and cannot afford to have lost in, I don't know, South Dakota somewhere.

Can I tell you what the security person did? Can I tell you? She took my nearly full bottle of Vanilla Bean Noel lotion--a lotion that, might I add, is only sold ONCE A YEAR and is no longer in stores--and threw it in the garbage. IN THE GARBAGE! There's not a women's shelter they can donate it to or something? Or, at the very least, they can't wait until I turn my back and THEN throw it in the garbage?

It was so depressing. It's my favorite lotion. I can't even order it on the website anymore. There is a gift set on clearance with some lotion in it, so I'll order that and get by until November, but ... SAD! The terrorists have SO won.

* So last week I got home late from work, all frazzled and exhausted and out of my mind, and I was like, I'm so tired, I don't even know if I have the energy to get the MAIL. But I did anyway, and GUESS WHAT? I got a package! From my BBFF Manic! Isn't that awesome? She sent me a cute little journal to go with our muses and it was the bestest thing ever and totally made my night.



Of course, then I promptly spilled marinara sauce all over the carpet. Of COURSE I did. Because it was that kind of day.



But I didn't care! Because I got a nice package! Yay!

Finally ...

* I can't believe Matthew McConaughey's girlfriend is pregnant. (Yes, I went to People.com just now.)

* I think it's stupid that newspapers endorse candidates. (Yes, I have the Michigan primary results on right now.)

* Do you ever wonder why we say "thanks" if it's "THANK you"? (Yes, I am tired and need to go to bed. Night!)

Monday, January 14, 2008

All we need is an Elvis sighting

We pick up our wacky weekend at the Las Vegas airport ...

* For those of you who have never been in the Las Vegas airport, there are slot machines EVERYWHERE. Bright, shiny, pretty pillars of iniquity, smack dab in the middle where the shoe shine stands and SmartCarte rows are in other airports. Naturally, I HAVE to play. I pick a machine in the middle and slide in a dollar, and go 25 cents at a time. First pull: Double sevens! I win a dollar! I’m not so lucky on the next six pulls, which I suspect is not a coincidence. I decide I’m not going to let myself fall under the spell of the great gambling gods--if I win again, I’m getting out before I end up hawking my laptop and beloved, discontinued Bobbi Brown lipstick for gambling money.

Next pull: I win another dollar! I immediately cash out, up 50 cents overall, and go to collect my $1.50 payout from the bored-looking girl in the booth. I almost just keep the little slip of paper instead of cashing out a measly $1.50, but a win is a win, and please, I’ve done about 1.3 billion more embarrassing things in my lifetime than ask a stranger to give me a paltry sum of money. Besides which, I need to take a picture of the dollar and two quarters for my blog! OBVIOUSLY! (More on that in a minute.)

* Random observation: There are a ton of hot guys in the Las Vegas airport on a Sunday night. Unfortunately, they are probably all leaving penniless and destitute, not being big winners with a lucky touch like yours truly. Also, a good half are also probably newly minted disease carriers thanks to the hookers on the strip. So the rule here is: Look, but don’t touch.

* I go to a fast-food place that shall remain nameless and try to order a kid’s meal. I almost always get kid’s meals at fast-food places because, you know, you basically get the same thing, only a smaller portion. Plus, hello, the toy!

So I go up to the counter and try to order a kid’s meal and the woman WOULDN’T LET ME GET ONE!

Her: You should just get a regular meal.
Me: But ... I LIKE the kid’s meal.
Her: I’m going to give you a regular meal.
Me: Can I just get a kid’s meal?
Her: I won’t give you a toy with it.
Me: You won’t ... what? (Pause.) That’s all right, I don’t need a toy.
Her: So a regular meal?
Me: You’re really not going to let me get a kid’s meal?
Her: A regular meal is only five dollars.
Me: It’s not really the price ...
Her: OK, good. Regular meal.

And a regular meal is what I get.

* They have the Golden Globes press conference on TV at the gate. I can hardly even talk about the Golden Globes. You KNOW how I love them. I probably don’t love them as much as my oldest future unborn child, but definitely as much the second-oldest one. DEFINITELY. And they were reduced to a press conference? HOSTED BY BILLY BUSH? Are you kidding me?

I plan on watching the whole debacle when I get home, but I cannot handle that kind of stress when I’m trying to get across the damn country in one piece, so I go hide down a side corridor while I drown my sorrows in my adult-sized Diet Coke. I turn on my computer, and the man next to me glances over and immediately gets an appalled look on his face. I look back at my computer and realize that I’ve forgotten, for about the thousandth time, to change the wallpaper on my computer. (When I was home for Christmas, my sister Stephanie hijacked my laptop and changed the wallpaper to read “Stephanie is a sexy bitch!” in huge writing.) Turns out this man is some sort of clergyman who is going through church paperwork. I feel mildly guilty, but I mean, he snooped first!

And yes, I said first. I start peeking at his papers and realize it’s actually notes on every single person in his congregation. It doesn’t matter that I have no idea who these people are or even where they live--I HAVE to know why he thinks John and Sue Mariano need to be on a “different track” and just what makes Joe Wilson so well-educated on doctrine.

* I am so engrossed in snooping and emailing and avoiding the faux Golden Globes that I don’t realize that I am being paged for my flight. Apparently they are about to close the door. Apparently the flight leaves in like seven minutes. Apparently I am an idiot. I throw my laptop in my bag, grab my purse and book it down the hall to the gate. I flash the Southwest guy my most charming, self-deprecating smile, and he just shakes his head. “Oh, Swishy,” he says with a sigh, which totally makes me laugh, because it’s almost like he really knows me.

This is horrible, though. I’m walking down the ramp to the plane, and of a sudden I think, OH, SHIT! Here’s the thing: I wanted to take a picture of my dollar and two quarters--my big, impressive gambling win--and I wanted it to be authentic, so I didn’t put the winning quarters in my wallet with all of the common quarters. Instead, I stacked them neatly on the floor next to my laptop until I could take their picture. And in my rush, that’s where I left them--on the floor. So now, instead of being up 50 cents, I merely broke even. And someone else is gonna walk by and pick them up and win a million dollars. Or, like, one dollar.

Worst part? I didn’t even get a picture!

* I am on the plane, and I can see the guy in front of me fiddling for the button to recline his seat. I am a very easygoing traveler, I truly am, but if one thing gets me going, it’s seat recliners. I HATE seat recliners. I can see him looking for the button, and in my head, I’m like, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you ... I HAAAAATE YOU! Why? Just ... WHY? It’s two inches. Two inches that make the difference between me being able to actually open my laptop all the way yet probably do not make it any easier for you to shovel nacho-flavored Bugles in your mouth and watch American Pie on your portable DVD player.

Yes, that’s what he’s doing, and yes, the nacho-flavored Bugles are completely assaulting my nostrils and infiltrating my brain. Also, the crunching is making me deaf, and also? American Pie? I would rather peek over your bandwagon Yankees hat at a movie that’s not on USA and/or TBS a thousand times a month, thank you very much, seat-reclining Bugle boy.

* Which brings us to the weekend itself! It was wonderful. Crazy and exhausting but super, super fun. The wedding was lovely and the bride was beautiful and I got to see a bunch of people that I hadn’t seen in forever. I just love my friends to absolute little pieces. It was awesome. I also got to visit my old work, and oh, they were so, SO nice to me. They were like, Swish, we talk about you all the time, we totally miss you, you’re so fun and nice and talented, and I was like, guys, I swear, I do not have ANY incriminating goods on you, you don’t have to say all of that! It was so nice to be remembered that fondly. And they remembered so many things! I’m a very sentimental type, and I always sort of assume that people mean more to me than I mean to them because I’m more sensitive and nostalgic and things like that, so it just made me feel good.

So it was a good weekend. Even though I got my lotion confiscated (Oh! I forgot to tell you that! I will later.) and even though the Bugle boy keeps trying to push his chair in my face. And even though my major 50-cent award is languishing in the Las Vegas airport right now. Even though, even though.

Friday, January 11, 2008

Crazed

I have been a terrible blogger this week! I have been working late every night and running around like crazy trying to get ready to go out of town for a wedding. I'll try to replace this in a little bit with a blog from the airport (which, incidentally, I have to get up for in THREE HOURS! I SO need to go to bed!).

Happy Friday, everyone!

*******

Update, some 16 hours later: Clearly, I did not blog from the airport, because I was very late to the airport and once again was deemed a security threat. Ha. But I did make my flight, and despite going on a mere hour of sleep am having a great time so far. I'll do a proper post in a day or two ... in the meantime, have a great weekend!

Tuesday, January 08, 2008

All aboard the niceness train

If you came here looking for a cute story, you are in LUCK!

So. I'm out running errands and I'm like, oh, crap, I have to get gas. So that's what I do.



I always get bored when I'm putting gas in the car. I love that I can sit on my couch and do nothing for hours and be perfectly fine with it, but standing for 97 seconds and doing nothing while I wait for the gas tank to fill up? TORTURE! If I talk on the phone, I might blow up. If I get back in the car, I might blow up. At least according to the scary emails my mom forwards me. So I usually (sloppily, half-assedley) wash the windows instead.

So I'm washing the windows, and all of a sudden this guy comes up to me and hands me a rose, one of the roses they sell inside the gas station. "Here," he says. "I hope you're having a great day." He turns around, and I'm like, "Thank you!" And he's like, "Have a great day!"

And then he gets in his truck, waves and honks his horn a few times as he passes me, and drives away.

Can you believe that? Isn't that random?! No asking my name, no asking my number. He just gave me a flower and told me to have a nice day. He wasn't even a weirdo! He was a nice, normal-looking young guy. And while I was pumping gas, no less! SO NICE!



So now I feel like I need to pay it forward and do something nice for someone. Any suggestions?

And hey! I know you're supposed to do nice things for no reason, but let's do this. If you want to do something nice for someone (anything nice, including entering Manic's contest!) and put it in the comments, I'll pick one of them out of a hat at the end of the week and send the winner a prize. Yeah? Sound good? OK, good.

Awwww. Being nice is so ... nice. I love it.

Saturday, January 05, 2008

Eight is enough

OK, forever and a day ago, I got tagged by the lovely Angela to tell you eight things that you might not know about me. So here we go ...

* I'm a big believer. I would say that sums me up as well as anything. I believe in people, in their goodness, in their ability to make an impact. I believe in possibility. And I'm a HUGE believer in chasing dreams.

* I always loved to read, and the first books I really got into as a kid were Nancy Drew books. I used to pretend I was Nancy Drew and try to investigate "crimes." I distinctly remember being on a trip with my family and spending the entire time obsessively writing down the comings and goings of the people next to us (in addition to their license plate number and a description of their car) JUST IN CASE they committed a crime. The police would come to investigate, and I'd give them all my info, and they'd be profusely grateful, and ...

Yeah. I was a pretty imaginative kid. I also used to use flour and scotch tape to try to lift fingerprints off the coffee table, much to my parents' chagrin.

* I LOVE candles. I have them everywhere. From where I'm sitting, I can see ... let's see ... 11 candles. That sounds ridiculous, but it's all very tasteful, I promise! (Plus I can see into the kitchen, so that counts.)

* I taught myself how to knit using the Internet. I always have some little project going or some new thing I'm trying to learn. I'm sure the knitting thing happened because I read about Julia Roberts knitting in her trailer on a movie set or something and it sounded cute. Anyway, I went online and figured out how to do it, and then I made a scarf. I was so proud of this thing, you have no idea. I love this scarf.



I made probably a half-dozen scarves in all. I was all set to quit my job and start a super high-class Scarves to the Stars side business, but you know, when it comes down to it, you really can't put a price on this kind of hand-crafted greatness. Ha.

* I almost always stay and read the credits at the end of a movie.

* I love campfires. Fires in fireplaces, too. But I especially love being outside somewhere, and it's dark and you can feel the night air, and the fire's warm, and it makes a pretty glow everywhere ... yeah, I know that's random. I don't know why I thought of it, either, because I haven't done that in forever. But I do love them!

* My favorite flowers are lilies.

* I failed my first driving test. Have I told this story? I don't think so. It was SUCH a joke. So the guy gets in the car and I start going down the road. I'm totally keeping to the 10 mph speed limit--a feat in itself--and I pull up to the stop sign and make a right-hand turn. And the guy's like, "OK, go back to the beginning." And I'm like, uhhh ... OK. I actually thought maybe I was SO GOOD AT DRIVING that he was like, OK, she passed. I'm serious, I was that naive. Or arrogant, you pick. So I go back, and he rips a page off his notebook and is all, "You failed. Try again in 30 days."

OK. The entire test lasted LITERALLY no more than 60 seconds. Allegedly I ran the stop sign. ALLEGEDLY. I totally called the DMV and complained, oh, yes, I did. I still had to wait the 30 days, though.

So I go back and I get the mean lady. The mean lady was NOTORIOUS for failing people. She failed like everyone in my high school who ever got her. Here was the thing with the mean lady: You were supposed to tell the person to put their seatbelt on, but seatbelts in smaller cars didn't fit around this woman. And she didn't like to be reminded of it. So it was a crapshoot--either you ask her and risk pissing her off, or you don't ask her and risk failing because you didn't ask.

I didn't ask. And I stopped at the stop sign for like 10 minutes. And I passed! I was out of high school by then, though, can you believe that? That was the part I was most ticked about. You had to be 17 to get your license, and I didn't turn 17 until my senior year, so I was practically out of high school before I even got to go TAKE the test. The FIRST time.

You would think the whole sordid experience would have taught me to be extra-vigilant about never running on reds. Of course it didn't. Obviously. Hee.

Tuesday, January 01, 2008

Well, hello there, 2008

Happy New Year, all of my wonderful friends! I hope you're all happy and safe and ready for the most awesomest of awesome years ever!

I like the idea of the new year. I like resolutions and a clean slate and all that good stuff but ... I don't know. I definitely wish I'd gotten more done in 2007. I kind of feel like I'm waiting for ... something. It's sort of frustrating, and by "sort of" I mean extremely. I don't want to be one of those people who always talks about doing things and never does them. So I guess in 2008, I want to be more of a doer. More proactive instead of reactive. Blah blah blah.

Although ... I DID vacuum out my car. And clean my bathroom. And return my overdue library book. Do those count? Ha.

Ahhhhh. OK, a few random things that have absolutely nothing to do with New Year's:

* I am watching The Biggest Loser right now and ohhhh, am I sucked into it. I love Bob the Trainer. LOVE HIM! I totally want to put him in my pocket and carry him around so he can feed me little nuggets of motivational wisdom all day long.

* In other TV news, you know those commercials for Jon and Kate Plus 8 that have been playing nonstop on Bravo? (OK, maybe you don't ... ha.) Anyway, it's this show on TLC/Discovery and it is SO CUTE! I love it. This couple has like six 3-year-olds and two 6-year-olds and they are SO the cutest kids ever. I want to steal one. I mean, they have eight kids under the age of 6 ... it would be years before they'd even notice one was missing. For sure.

* I am the queen of hearing, like, a single line of a song and then deciding I'm completely, madly in love with it, which as a result has made me a total master at finding songs on Google. So there's this one song I like, but I've never heard the whole thing all the way through and I can NEVER catch any of the lyrics except "over and over." OK, can I tell you how many songs have the words "over and over" in them? I went through 30 PAGES on Google and NOTHING. So I started a new search. And then another one. I became compulsive about it. And finally, FINALLY, I found it, and yes, this is seriously the thing I am most proud of accomplishing all week. (The songs: Lazy Eye and Well Thought Out Twinkles by Silversun Pickups.)

* So I saw this documentary called Crazy Love. (SKIP THIS IF YOU MIGHT SEE IT AND WANT TO BE SURPRISED!) OK, seriously? Crazy does not BEGIN to cover it. This guy fell obsessively in love with this woman, hired guys to throw acid in her face when she tried to break things off, went to jail for blinding her ... and then they ended up getting married! And they've been married for almost 30 years! I knew all that stuff when I watched it, and I was STILL freaking out at how crazy it was. In-freaking-sane.

* Better stories tomorrow, I promise! Happy New Year!