Friday Funday Wrapup with a whole new look!

Happy Friday everyone! It's the Friday Funday Wrapup and, as you can see, we've got a whole new look now!

I must start this wrapup with a HUGE thank you to the designer who actually did this whole thing for me, Aileen Barker (you can check her out here). She's not only a talented designer, she's INCREDIBLY kind and patient and put up with requests that probably should've gotten me laughed out of the blogging world. I believe there may have been an "urgent" message from me last week that simply said:

"Ok, so the most important thing is that I have glitter icons. Can we make this happen?"

I mean, I've got my priorities firmly in their place, people.

Also, a big shout out to my friends who put up with endless questions about design and color and sizes of icons that they don't actually care about but pretend to care about because that's what friends do. Especially CB, who literally sat with me one night and went point by point on things I wanted to tweak, add, delete, etc.

So THANK YOU, I hope you guys like it!

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Ok, so for those of you who don't know, this is my favorite time of year. Not only because we're moving into fall and the clothes are way better and everything's cozy, but because it's college football season!

Also, it should be noted here that I really know very little about college football except for that I like it when MSU wins and the other team loses. And that watching college football is the most fun way possible to spend a Saturday afternoon. Except I still secretly feel bad for whoever the losing team is (as long as it's not the University of Michigan or Notre Dame), which I think I got from my mom who can't watch a baseball game without feeling badly when the pitcher gets pulled by the coach.

Anyway, in honor of Michigan State University's first football game tonight to kick off the season, I thought I'd share this with you. Also, I know everyone isn't sick of that song yet, so.....

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Uh, could these kids be any cuter?

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And lastly, for those of you doing any sort of entertaining for this holiday weekend, a few tips:

1. Don't make fried chicken unless you have very heavy prescription drugs on hand
2. Check out my friend's cooking blog, "Chew, Nibble, Nosh" over in "Stuff I Like." She's got some great (and tasty) recipes that won't make you cry when you make them! Win/win. And while you're over there, check out the other links, too! I wouldn't steer you wrong, people.

Happy Friday/Labor Day/You Don't Have to Work on Monday!

And then Steve Jobs took all of my money from my bank account and put it in his Heaven bank account and then pointed and laughed at me.

For two weeks I haven’t been able to hear my voicemail or any phone conversation while holding my phone up to my ear like a normal person. Unless I have you on speakerphone, you might as well be talking to me through a tin can from under the earth, because that’s about where you sound like you are anyway.

So, after having a few awkward conversations via speakerphone in the middle of a New York City sidewalk, I decided I’d finally call Apple to see what’s up. That is, of course, after I called AT&T who troubleshot with me for 20 minutes and then said “Yeah, you should call Apple.”

And then this happened:

Me: I have to call Apple so they can fix my phone.

Friend: You’re going to love it. Apple’s tech support is the best.

5 minutes later.

Apple Tech Support: This is an automated message and I can understand complete sentences. Tell me your problem.

Me: I can’t hear people when I talk to them on the phone.

Apple Tech Support: This is an automated message and I can understand complete sentences. Tell me your problem.

Me: Uh…..I can’t hear people when I talk to them on the phone. For two weeks.

ATS: This is an automated message and I can understand complete sentences. Tell me your problem.

Me: I just said multiple complete sentences.

ATS: I will transfer you.

Me: Really?

Hold.

ATS Person: Hi, I’m Sarah, blah blah blah blah blah. What’s the problem?

Me: So, for about two weeks I haven’t been able to hear people on the other end of the phone.

Silence for 3 seconds

Me: So….then I put them on speakerphone and I can hear them fine. But it’s kind of awkward, you know? Because nobody wants to hear my conversations with my parents or me listening to my voicemail because usually it’s just my friends talking to me as if I’m actually on the phone, so it’s almost like you’re listening to a private conversation.

ATS Person: That does sound frustrating.

Me: Right? It really is.

ATS Person: So there’s something called (I don’t remember the name of the expensive helpful product she mentioned here) for $69.95 where you can call us any time for the smallest or biggest problems with your phone for the next two years.

Me: Uh…….

ATS Person: Would you like to buy that?

Me: Wait, can you help me for free just, you know, now?

ATS Person: Or there’s a package where you pay $24.95 for a one time phone call and we’ll help you with one problem, and you’d have to pay that every time you called us back for any issues.

Me: Well that doesn’t sound like much of a deal.

ATS Person: The first one I mentioned is a much better deal for your money.

Me: To be honest, I was hoping for the kind of deal where I call you on the phone and tell you that I can’t hear anything and then you fix it for free over the phone.

Silence.

Me: Also, I called AT&T and they told me that I’m still under warranty with you.

ATS Person: That’s true, you’re under warranty for 56 more days.

Me: Right……so……..

ATS Person: Which is why I told you about the first one, because that extends everything for the next two years.

Me: Right. But I’m under warranty now, right?

ATS Person: Yes

Me: So I think it’s more cost effective for me to call you while I’m still under warranty, which I paid for already, and let you fix my problem before I pay you $70 for problems that might happen in the future. You know?

ATS Person: I understand what you’re saying.

Me: Great! So how can I hear people on my phone again?

ATS Person: Or I can direct you to the online support site where you can try to troubleshoot for free.

Me: I’m confused.

ATS Person: Which option would you prefer?

Me: Wait, I think maybe I’m in the wrong department because I said a few sentences to the machine when I first called and it didn’t understand me and so maybe there’s a miscommunication.

ATS Person: No, I understand your problem.

Me: Great!

ATS Person: So do you have a preference for which option you’d like?

Me: Um…….the option where you fix my problem for free over the phone during this call?

ATS Person, laughing: That wasn’t one of the options.

Me: But it’s the one I want.

ATS Person: I understand your frustration.

Me: I’m not so sure you do. Ok. Maybe I’ll try to solve it on my own for free while I’m under the warranty and then, when that doesn’t work, I’ll just go to the Apple store during my lunch break and maybe it’ll be harder for someone to not help me for free in person?

ATS Person: It’s worth a shot.

Me: I appreciate your honesty.

And then I threw my giant book of the Steve Jobs biography at my phone to see if that would fix it, and when that failed, I flushed it down the toilet. And then I walked over to my “friend” and called him a liar to his face and walked away.

So if you need me, call Sarah and she’ll patch you through for $500 per minute to my new invisible Apple Air Phone.

"I know how to fix this and you don t. Give me a billion dollars."

Ryan Gosling! Ryan Gosling! Ryan Gosling! And also George Clooney.

So you know how everyone has a super power, right? Well, my super power – other than my above-average skills when it comes to parallel parking – is that I have the uncanny ability to make things happen with just my mind. I mean, I can’t, like, bend steel or anything. Though to be fair, I’ve never thought hard enough about bending steel to really test that theory. But let’s just assume I can’t.

What I can do, however, is make really unimportant things happen after I say them out loud. Don’t be jealous, we’re all gifted in our own special way. Mine is just tremendously cool. Here are a few examples:

• We were out with friends recently having a benign conversation about sports or something. I was only half-listening. But at some point I said something vaguely mean about Notre Dame. Know why? Because I hate Notre Dame. Anyway,  I mentioned them and then sort of meandered my brain out of the conversation. But because of my crazy abilities that are far out of the sphere of my control, within an hour of mentioning Notre Dame and their inability to suck any more than they already do, some dude in a Notre Dame shirt walked by. I looked over at CB who had a look of awe on his face and I just nodded and said “I know! I’m amazing.”

I mean, we had just been talking about how my brain is freaking us both out, and not in the normal way that it usually does. Granted, it’s not totally out of the question that someone would be wearing a Notre Dame shirt, but I can go days or weeks without seeing one – or noticing one – and then on the day that I mention them it appears. Coincidence? I think not. (also, don’t look up the definition of a coincidence.)

• A few weeks ago I was re-telling CB a really compelling story about my trip to the furniture store down the street and how I was chatting with the couple who owns it about their other store in upstate New York. I know, right? It was gripping and he was hanging on every word. But during the conversation they mentioned that Michelle Williams and Mark Ruffalo are clients of theirs. This part of the story lasted about 5 seconds and then I moved along so I could describe furniture to CB that he was really excited to hear about. So fast forward to later that night when we decided to watch a movie and who should appear on screen but Michelle Williams and Mark Ruffalo!

CB: That’s really weird that you were just talking about them earlier.

Me: I know, it’s getting freaky. I’m really good at this. My mind is dangerous!

CB: Tell me about it.

Me: But seriously. I can basically just say something and then later it’ll appear. It’s a blessing and a curse because now I have to be careful not to think of anything bad! Which is going to be hard because now all I can think about is stuff I shouldn’t think about because that’s how brains work when you tell them not to do something. My brain is like an unruly child!

CB: I can’t hear the movie.

Me: I’m just saying my powers are greater than we both realized.

And then we continued to watch the movie in silence while I thought about all of the things I hoped didn’t appear in front of us later that night. However, while I was busy thinking about all of the things I didn’t want to happen, CB, apparently, was busy thinking about all of the things he did want to happen.

Cut to: the next morning.

CB: So I think that we should start talking about Jessica Biel.

Me: What?

CB: Jessica Biel.

Me: Why should we start talking about Jessica Biel?

CB: Because you have that crazy brain thing where the people or things you talk about end up appearing in front of us.

Me, laughing: Oh my God, you’ve definitely given this way too much thought.

CB: Focus, woman! Jessica Biel!

BOOM. Jessica Biel. Does that count, CB?

So as a thank you to CB for the key incident over the weekend, I’m not only thinking and talking about Jessica Biel, but I’m blogging about her. So, you know, everyone keep an eye out when you see us skipping arm and arm together down the street in all the tabloids later this week. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Also, I’ll tell you if Justin Timberlake is actually really short in person and how the secret wedding in Colorado goes!

Happy Hump Day, everyone!

And then I taught everyone a lesson about how to be a real adult and handle stress like a champ.

I think it goes without saying that I very clearly have my life together and at no time do I spaz out. Except for when I do and I make everyone else around me insanely spaz-y as well. Also, and unrelated, I believe it’s physically impossible for me not to lock myself out of my apartment at least once every few months. But hey, at least I’m consistent.

This weekend we had a pretty packed schedule, and because I love all things involving a checklist, I made one and decided to spend my Saturday morning before the craziness crossing things off, clearly being the envy of everyone around me who wished they were as cool as me. Also, I was out of toilet paper and was forced to go to the store anyway, so why not be productive?

After about an hour and a half of random errands in the 80 degree, humid New Jersey air, I made my way back home to discover that my keys were safely tucked inside the comforting arms of my apartment building. I believe I dropped my grocery bags and purse in a really non-dramatic way in the vestibule and wailed “Not again!!” because that’s how adults handle stress.

And then I texted CB, who was really surprised that this happened.

Me: I need to come up and grab the spare set of keys to my place because I locked myself out.

CB: That sounds about right.

Me: But don’t judge me because I was waiting to shower just before we left for the wedding so I’m sweaty and gross.

CB: I’ll close my eyes.

And then I walked a mile uphill to his place and didn’t once complain about it when I got there.

However, what I did do is completely make CB wish he hadn’t woken up or answered his phone that day. You see, he keeps these keys of mine in a junk drawer, so every time I’ve needed them he just opens it up, grabs the keys, hands ‘em over, and I’m on my way.

But this time he opened the drawer, grabbed the keys, said “These are them, right?” and then I ruined our morning by being a spaz.

Me: No, those aren’t them.

CB: But they’re the only keys in here.

Me: I think I know what my keys look like. They’re on a red key chain or something.

CB, dumping out the contents of his drawer: Are you sure? These are the only keys in here and I don’t know why I’d have any others.

Me: Yes I’m sure. Oh man, where could they be?

CB, not saying anything and now opening every drawer and closet in his apartment.

Me: I mean, I really appreciate you looking, but I think I should call the locksmith because I don’t want to waste any more of our time. Ugh, they’re going to charge me another $150 and last time it took them 2 hours to get there which would likely make us late for the wedding since then I wouldn’t have enough time to shower and do my hair and makeup!

CB, giving me a not-happy-with-me look.

Me: The only reason I’m panicking is because I don’t want to make us late and so I’m thinking I should probably just head back home now instead of spending 20 more minutes looking so that I don’t waste any more of our time.

CB: You know, you panicking isn’t helping me think.

Me: I know, but I can’t help it!

CB: Could you try?

Me: This is me trying.

And then I walked back over to the drawer where the other set of keys were sitting and said “Oh wait, I think these are mine, they just look different!” And then CB wasn’t annoyed at all.

My bad.

Also, I think all of this helped his slight hangover from the night before because he tried unlocking his apartment door with the car key and mumbled something about how he hadn’t been planning on having to wake up and use his brain this early. And then I think I heard something about how happy he is that we’re together and how I make all situations less stressful and drama-free.

Happy Monday, everyone!

Friday Funday Wrapup!

Friday Funday Wrapup, people! Let’s get to it.

First of all, a friend sent this to me yesterday and said she thought of me for some reason. I wasn’t sure if I should be terrified or not, but it made me laugh – enjoy!

Next, in light of this and all of the other stories similar lately, maybe we could all just take a minute and be a little kinder to those around us.

I’m not here to talk politics or debate anything. That’s not why you guys come here and that’s not what this blog is. And though I’ve posted this video before, I think it’s worth watching again. Take a minute, call your best friend, or your parents, or high five a co-worker or something. K?

And lastly, to end on a happier note and talk about Jennifer Lopez, I’ll share this conversation with you that I just had with a friend regarding what I should wear to a wedding this weekend:

Friend: I love that dress on you, that’s the one to go with.

Me: Yeah, plus I’m lazy and don’t want to buy a new dress so it was really my only option.

Friend: It’s a good choice.

Me: But do I need a booty bump with this dress?

Friend: Uh, what?

Me: A booty bump. You know, that underwear you can put on to give you an extra bump!

Friend: You’re not serious.

Me: I’m dead serious. My butt is basically just a flat extension of my upper legs and sometimes it’s nice if you can add a little plumpness.

Friend: Is this because of your J-Lo obsession?
Me: Well, that’s part of it.

Friend: Please don’t wear a booty bump.

Me: No promises.

The original booty bump.

How carrying a watermelon can lead to sex and why the Terminator taught me everything I needed to know about love.

Alright, I’m sure I’m breaking old news to you, but yesterday was the 25^th Anniversary of “Dirty Dancing.” I know, right? We had the time of our lives, blinked, and now we’re all super-old making Baby references that the interns at work don’t understand. It’s very disorienting.

So then I heard something yesterday about a guy who spent a year blogging about how he watched the movie “Julia and Julia” every single day for 365 days. I was all like “that guy’s crazy!” until I realized that I participated in a very similar secret dare I didn’t know I was having with myself when I watched the following movies a billion times for many consecutive years:

1. "Dirty Dancing"
2. "Sleepless in Seattle"
3. "The Karate Kid"
4. "My Best Friend’s Wedding"
5. "When Harry Met Sally"

Also, this weekend I had a whole debate with one of CB’s friends about which song was playing on the beach when Daniel first met Ali during the “Karate Kid.”  I’m pretty sure that everyone else around us was intensely jealous of the level of awesomeness we had reached.

It was "Bop Bop on the Beach." Duh.

Anyway, I got off course there for a second. So when I was a kid, I wasn’t allowed to watch “Dirty Dancing.” First of all, I was maybe 9(ish), which I think is a more than appropriate age to watch sweaty teenagers grinding on the dance floor to oldies and learning about the dangers of pre-marital sex by watching the after-effects of a back alley abortion. I see no problem with this. Also, I’m not ashamed to say that it took until I was well into my college years before I realized that that’s what was even happening. I was too focused on when Patrick Swayze would take his shirt off and wondering if all first times were choreographed dance moves to a Soloman Burke record.

Answer: sadly, no.

But since I wasn’t allowed to watch it, I naturally just waited for one of my friends, whose parents didn’t pay very close attention to details, to get it on VHS and then we watched it in her basement one day. But I only got to see maybe a scene or two before my mom came to pick me up and I totally missed out on all the good stuff. Kind of like the time when my dad let us watch “The Terminator” but made my sister and me leave the room during the “love” scene. Trust me, I’m pretty sure I would’ve been less traumatized by that than by Arnold Schwarzenegger blowing away an entire bar full of people and stalking a woman who was carrying the baby of the future leader of the human resistance.

Also, and sorry to break it to you dad, Amanda and I totally went back downstairs and fast forwarded to that scene on the tape after you went to bed. Which lead to me going through my adolescence thinking that basically all you did during sexy time was roll around grabbing covers while looking kind of like you were really exhausted and frustrated with each other the whole time. I was honestly a bit in shock when it came time to live out my own Soloman Burke moment and realized all that was involved. Also, that time hasn’t happened yet because I’m a lady and I don’t roll like that. Obviously.

This is one way to learn about the birds and the bees. Who needs a chastity belt when you have a cyborg assassin?

Basically what I’m saying is this: I could totally blog every single day for the rest of my life about every wonderfully awful 80s movie I’ve seen and memorized. But then the blog would shut down because people would stop reading. And then we’d all be sad because we’d have to search for something else to read for 90 seconds every few days that made us feel better about ourselves for not being me. And that just seems like a lot of work.

What I’m wondering, though, is if I’m totally alone on this. I mean, am I the only one who walks into a work meeting, has to sit in the corner of the room because it’s too full, and then thinks to myself “But nobody puts Becky in the corner!”?

No, right?

Happy Hump Day!

Monday Funday Wrapup! Thanks a lot, vodka.

So, since I didn’t do a normal “wrapup” on Friday, I thought it’d be a good way to start the week. Also, I somehow became over-served this weekend while celebrating CB’s birthday with his incredible family and friends, and for some reason I’m not feeling all that creative. Or able to form full sentences very well.
Proceed with caution and don't say I didn't warn you.

First of all, I don’t know how this part of my personality manifests itself at work so that co-workers know automatically to send me stuff like this, but I thank them.

Secondly, brace yourselves because I’m about to re-cap a conversation CB reluctantly had with me yesterday about lady bits. I know, right? What could be better?

Sitting quietly, watching tv:

CB: Oh God, where’s the remote? Why do they have to put this stuff on tv?

Me: Uh, what's that grandpa? It's a Vagisil commercial. What's the big deal?

CB: Jeez, you don’t have to say it! Why would they advertise this?

Me: Because sometimes people have itchy bits.

CB: That’s disgusting.

Me: But it’s true.

CB: Ok, but they don’t have to advertise for it. Just like Imodium and other things like that. They don’t have to put it on tv, you should just go to the drug store and you can ask the people who work there.

Me: Oh really? Ok, so I’m going to walk into CVS and go over to the poor kid getting paid minimum wage and ask him how I can get my vagina to stop itching?

CB, laughing: There’s something wrong with you.

Me: You’re the one who brought it up! I’m just saying that these commercials help let people know there are options. Also, then you won’t terrify the 17 year old working at the drug store.

You're welcome, America.

And lastly, the re-design of the blog has begun! Keep an eye out for a brand new look in a few weeks, along with that last piece of exciting news that doesn't include anything having to do with marriage, babies, or co-habitating. 

Happy Monday everyone!

Some people aren t that fresh all the time, CB. Just ask the kid at CVS. 

Not your normal Friday Wrapup - it's CB's birthday!

Usually on Friday’s I do a Friday Funday Wrapup. But today isn’t a normal Friday – it’s CB’s birthday! So obviously we need to honor this momentous occasion properly, and what better way to do that than by blogging all about him so that he shakes his head, rolls his eyes, and turns up the baseball game? Also, if we can embarrass him a little, that’d be great. Oh, he’s going to be so excited.

I’ve been lucky enough to know CB for 6 years, and I think it goes without saying that he was a smitten kitten from day one. Obviously. But he hid it really, really well for about 5 years. You see, he was the first person I met at my former job because we happened to sit right next to each other. But since I was in a relationship and he was, you know, a stud, our paths didn’t cross much more than the “Good morning’s” and “have a good night’s” that all polite co-workers enjoy. However, as the months wore on and he got used to my shrill voice and ongoing stories about a lot of stuff he didn’t care about, a friendship began to emerge.

Without a doubt, though, our turning point happened about a year and a half later. I was experiencing some heartache and I decided to share that with him, which I’m pretty sure he was super-happy to hear about since all guys love to stand there awkwardly while you cry about a boy. But in true CB fashion, he handled it in the most perfect way possible: by buying me a chocolate milkshake at 8:30 in the morning. He does know me well.

And as the years wore on, we found ourselves spending more friend time together, which usually included some heavy drinking with his family and friends – always a good time – and training for half and full marathons. If you ask him, it was less painful to train and run two half and two full marathons than it was to sit next to me and listen to me ask him when he was going to sign up.

To be fair, he’s right. Also, does anyone feel bad for him now that you know that he totally knew what he was getting himself into YEARS ago? I thought not.

But somehow, during all of those hours of running and talking and drinking and laughing, we started to figure each other out. He figured out that I dehydrate after 2 minutes and would show up at the start line with an extra Gatorade for me. Probably because he didn’t want to be responsible for me dying on his watch, but still. He figured out that feeding me is key and would always get extra pickles and fries to give me at lunch, since I obviously have a very refined palette. And he figured out that half the time, when I speak, he doesn’t need to respond. And he also figured out when the other half of the time was, and filled in those gaps, too.

On the flip side, I figured out that he gets cranky when he’s not fed at normal intervals and that I’ve never met anyone who can run with a hangover like this guy. It’s sort of amazing. I also figured out that he has a heart of gold and was one of the kindest, most honest, most genuine people I’d ever met. Also, that you really shouldn’t talk to him before 10am. Like, ever. All very important lessons.

And eventually we took all of those hours, all of those lessons, all of the tears and sweat and laughter and fun and decided we kind of liked that package. So we rolled with it. And we’re still rollin’. And I’m so happy to get to celebrate his birthday with all of you blog readers!

See, CB?? I totally didn’t slander you. Or take artistic license with the truth.  ALL things, by the way, that he’s accused me of since this blogging thing began. And all lies, obviously. Especially since everyone knows that he was totally a smitten kitten on day one and I would never make that up.

Happy birthday, CB!

Chatting with Julia Allison and how I've created the best checklist she's ever heard. Probably.

As I mentioned last week, I had the opportunity to chat with Julia Allison recently and ask her all sorts of ridiculous questions that nobody in their right mind would ask a stranger. Like who her favorite Golden Girl was and if she had any good stories about her underpants. Oh, also, she doesn’t call them underpants and I think I maybe creeped her out when I kept calling them that. Though I will say this: she was an extraordinarily good sport, especially considering I sort of mocked her whole 73 point checklist. And when I say “sort of”, I mean I totally and completely mocked it because I’m not always a nice person when I think nobody is reading.

My bad.

Anyway, one of the things I quickly realized about Julia – aside from the whole begging guys to kiss her and making a checklist of every possible thing she could want in a man -  is that she really does seem way more normal than she came across on tv. Um, and you can totally tell all about a person in a 45 minute phone call you guys, so obviously I have her entire persona figured out and there’s no need to second-guess me about any of this.

And don't get me wrong - I was obsessed with the show and even got CB into it. Well, technically I don't know if I should say that he's into it, per se, since he would go in the other room and read when I turned it on. But he lives in a studio apartment, so it's technically the same room with just a divider and so basically that's the same as watching it with me. In my mind.

I mean, I knew that we had to have something in common since she has the wardrobe my dreams dream about. 

But seriously. She seemed to genuinely cringe at herself for some of the ridiculous things she said and did during the show, all of which makes for incredibly entertaining reality tv but not so much for, you know, living your life without people thinking you’re insane. Which I definitely do not know anything about. However, something she really stuck by was that infamous checklist, which has been added to and now includes 88 items all told. And, apparently, her current boyfriend fits every single thing on the list.

What? I know. Show-off.

Uh, for the record, you should all be very impressed by me for exhibiting self-restraint, a muscle I don’t flex that often, because I totally didn’t ask her to elaborate on certain items like “talented lover” (number 59) or “sexually delicious” (number  85*). You’re welcome, America. Or…I’m sorry? Also, and totally unrelated, I’m currently drafting a checklist of all of CB’s most stellar qualities on a piece of paper, then putting a check next to each one, and then I’ll totally call Julia and be all like “Ha! You’re not the only one who’s boyfriend has everything on the list. Take that, Bravo reality star!” Or something. Moving on.

So while we were talking, I couldn’t help but mention some of the horrible dates I’d been on that you all seem to enjoy hearing about so much. You know, like that guy who either had a cocaine problem or IBS and said “Cheers” to himself as he downed both of our shots on the first date, or the one who wore Jesus sandals and took me to Starbucks. Both classics. So obviously, the pressure was on.

I have to say, though, that by the end of telling me all about her terrible dating stories, she totally won. Like, I took off my crown, gave it a little polish, and handed it right on over to her. You know why? Because while I’ve been out with some gigantic losers, I’ve never, ever, ever had to clean all of my sheets and blankets and rugs and ancillary items in my bedroom because my drunken, Del Taco’s taco-filled, stark naked date was passed out, spread-eagle on my pink princess comforter.

Also, I don’t have a pink princess comforter. But I totally could, and that’s what matters.

Anyway, in true Julia Allison fashion, I decided to make a list of the Top Three Things Nobody Else Would Ever Ask a Stranger Without Being Ashamed of Themselves. I know, right? I should definitely name things more often.

Ready? Here we go:

1.       Who’s on your freebie list?

You know how everyone has that “freebie” list of celebrities that you could meet, sleep with, and your partner couldn’t get mad? Well I asked Julia who was on hers. I mean, if I canget my parents to make that list, I can pretty much get anyone to.

JA, laughing: This is great. Ok, ready? Andrew Garfield, Topher Grace, Jon Stewart, Tom Brady, and….um…..who else….Channing Tatum. Oooooh Channing Tatum.

Me: Really?

JA: I’m obsessed. Did you ever see him in that Step Up movie?

Me: Wasn’t he just in that stripper movie?

JA: Oh I never saw that!

Me: I didn’t either, but you probably should if you like him! But you seemed to pick guys who have a bit of substance, too. Most of mine are basically guys that I just think are hot.

JA: I mean, a beautiful guy is great to look at, but if they’re not intelligent and funny and clever I’d get bored pretty quickly, you know?

Me: That’s true, but the way I see it is if I only have one night, I’m not wasting it by talking to them.

And then I became the classiest person she’d ever met and made my parents even prouder than they already were.

2.       Who’s your favorite Golden Girl? Also, I’m assuming these are the best questions you’ve ever been asked ever.

JA: Oh my God! Best question. Obviously Blanche, of course, because she’s so patently ridiculous. I mean, you have to.

Me: See, mine has always been Rose, but that’s because I can relate to her, which really says a lot.

JA: Aw, Rose…wait, wasn’t she always the spacey one?

Me, not embarrassed at all: Yep, exactly.

JA: I do love Rose…oh no, now you’re making me second-guess my decision……

Me: I know, right? You could totally have this conversation all day long. Also, nobody’s cooler than us at this very moment.

JA, laughing, probably out of pity: I’m sticking with Blanche, though. I’m sticking to it.

It’s so hard to choose! Also, you could totally Photoshop Julia’s face and my face onto this photo and it’d be an accurate picture of how I think she now feels about me even though we’ve never met in person. I’m guessing. She didn’t come right out and say it. I think she’s shy.

3. Lastly, what is one of your best stories about your underpants? Also, do you call them underpants?

Yep, I definitely asked this. Obviously. I mean, who doesn’t have stories about their underpants? Plus, I figured if she admitted to calling them that, I’d totally win and then everyone who says I’m ridiculous for calling them underpants could suck it.

Spoiler Alert: she called them underwear the whole entire time and my pride and soul cried just a little bit.

However, while her story about underpantswear was a solid one, the best part of the entire conversation happened at the very end:

JA: Actually, I’m standing in the window just wearing my underwear right now while talking to you, and my boyfriend’s laughing at me.

Me: Wait, you’re standing there talking to me in your underwear?

JA: Yes! I’m just wearing a giant pair of pink underwear and a Georgetown t-shirt while we talk.

And then we ended the best phone call of her life. I mean, I’m assuming. I think it was implied.

But see you guys? I’m totally not the only one! She could’ve just as easily have walked out into her hallway and scared her new neighbor. It’s not just me!

Anyway, after all was said and done, and lists were made and boundaries were crossed by giant pink underpants, I think we learned something. Or at least spent close to an hour talking about stuff that won’t at all impact the world but will likely make you all feel better about yourselves for not having to be part of that conversation with me. Right? So I see this as a success. Also, I have to get going because I have some lists to make. CB’s going to be so excited!

What would be on your list?

Happy Hump Day, everyone!

*for a complete listing of all of Julia’s requirements, click here.

An Open Letter to Shark Week: I hate you.

Guess what Shark Week? You’re terrifying. You’re basically all of my biggest fears coming true in high definition while people narrate what will happen to me if I step foot in the ocean. But what I don’t understand about you is that you insist on terrifying me before I even watch your entire week’s worth of programming. Here are a few examples:

• You name your shows stuff like “Air Jaws Apocalypse” and “Sharkzilla.” That’s not fair. First of all, how am I not supposed to turn on something called “Air Jaws Apocalypse”? I mean, you weren’t fighting fair with that one because I don’t even know what it means, but it sounds terrifying and mesmerizing all at the same time. Also, the exact same reason people turn on “The Real Housewives of New Jersey.”
• The very existence of sharks terrifies most rational people. However, you’ve used your dark magic powers to find the most insane people on the planet to jump into water cages with big gaping slats for shark mouth’s to fit through. Or use people who don’t value their own limbs to then show us what exactly we should be so afraid of in the first place. Also, they say stuff like “You should never do this” and then do it, which really is a terrible way to teach anyone anything. Or allow them to sleep soundly at night.
• You play really haunting music that follows me into my nightmares.
• You show the circle of life in a way that Disney would definitely not approve of. I understand that this is how nature works, but I live in a giant, man-made city surrounded by all things unnatural just so I don’t have to see the beauty that is a shark eating his seal-lunch. Also, everyone loves baby seals and making people cry for your own entertainment is just plain mean, Discovery Channel.
• You have drawn me into your website where I can’t stop reading shark facts that make me not want to ever look at the ocean ever again. And you make me feel ashamed of myself for reading something called the “Shark-o-Nator.” But hey, now I know something really not terrifying at all about being near any water whatsoever, like the fact that “Bull sharks have been spotted in bays, lagoons and even rivers, sometimes thousands of miles inland.” Oh really? That’s tremendously awesome and I’m really excited to never go near any water ever again.
• When I go to your website, this is what I see:

I will never sleep again.

Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that your approach leaves something to be desired and I don’t think it’s fair that I can’t stop watching you. Also, I believe you will likely start hearing from my manager when I’m unable to perform the necessary functions of my job this week because I’m sleep-deprived and constantly making random references to bull sharks and Jaws.

Ok. That is all.

Love,

Becky

Friday Funday Wrapup! And some exciting news! (kind of. To me. Maybe not anyone else. Now you've been warned.)

Happy Friday, everyone! You know what this means……it’s the Friday Funday Wrapup! Let’s get to it.

First of all, this morning at work I was discussing a big project with a colleague and apparently I made some comments that sounded somewhat intelligent and got all of this praise and glory and life was wonderful. So obviously, when I sat back down at my desk, I was feeling pretty good about myself and how tremendously smart I am.

And then I opened up the web and saw a teaser that said “Does World’s Cutest Dog Have a Dark Secret?” and I immediately clicked on it because, contrary to just moments ago when I felt like an intellectual superior, I am who I am. Let’s get real. Anytime I see a teaser like that – and a picture of the world’s cutest dog! – I have to go back to my roots, to the heart of who I truly am, and open that story right up and dive in.

He s obviously hiding a lot of pain behind those adorable eyes and button nose. It s always the innocent looking ones, I ll tell ya what.

Also, hey guys, I didn’t die in a drug-related shooting! Yay!

Oh, and I got this in my Inbox first thing this morning from a co-worker who obviously knows how to start my day off right. Perfection.

And lastly, a few exciting things are happening in the world of this blog. Also, I think if you’re going for the literal use of the word “exciting”, then maybe it doesn’t really pertain except to, you know, me. BUT, last Friday I dropped the excitement bomb about some cool new developments I’d be telling you about soon, which basically just lead to everyone thinking that CB and I were moving in together and then saw me spending the rest of the weekend holding a bag to his mouth while he hyperventilated. Whatevs.

Anyway, I can tell you two pieces of fun news now. The first is that I’m working on a re-design of this blog, so in the coming weeks keep an eye out for a new and improved Stories About My Underpants. I know, you can hardly contain your glee. It’s hard to be this cool all the time, let me tell you.

The second piece of fun news is that I had the opportunity to chat with Julia Allison earlier this week – even after I sort of posted an entire blog about how the 73 point checklist is ridiculous. So keep an eye out for that blog post sometime next week! Trust me, it was hard-hitting stuff. I totally got some deep dark secrets out of her about underpants. And no, I'm not kidding.

And there’s one more exciting piece of news, but I need to keep you guys on the hook for that just a bit longer. However, I promise it’ll be worth the wait! I think. Or not. Well you’ll just have to wait and see now won’t you!

How men and women can be just friends and why CB is obviously wrong. And not in that order.

Ok, so last night I was out for drinks with two guy friends of mine and we got on the topic of how men and women can’t be friends. Uh, what? We’re sitting in a bar disproving your point as we speak, two guys who are wrong. But then they pointed out to me that: (a) all three of us are in serious, committed relationships (with other people) and (b) I don’t think there was actually a (b). My bad.

Wait, maybe I should back up for a second. This whole conversation started because recently a guy who I thought was just a casual acquaintance started to chat with me via email. I thought “What a nice guy! Cool, I like friends.” And left it at that. But then I mentioned something about this to CB in passing the other day, and in true CB fashion – without even looking up from the Olympics – this conversation happened:

CB: “Yeah, that guy doesn’t want to be friends with you.”

Me: “Yes he does! Why else would he email me?”

CB, glancing up from the game: “Seriously?”

Me: “Yes!”

CB: “We’ve been over this a thousand times.”

Me: “He doesn’t want to date me.”

CB: “I didn’t say date. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t care whether or not you two actually date.”

Me: “I think you’re wrong.”

CB: “That’s fine, but I’m not. Look, this guy has put in more effort to talk to you than I do, and we’re dating. That’s a lot of work. Guy’s aren’t all about work if they just want to be friends.”

And then I ignored Prince Charming and asked him to hush down so I could watch the pretty male US swimmers.

So when this came up last night with my two friends, I figured it was a good way to be able to go home and tell CB that I was totally right. Also, that last part didn’t end up happening.

Male Friend #1: “You’re definitely delusional.”

Me: “I don’t think so! I think you guys aren’t giving guys enough credit.”

Male Friend #2: “No, you’re giving guys too much credit because you’re over-thinking this. And I’m pretty sure that, if you look back on your life, you have left a wake of Friend Zone Guys behind you. Trust me. Lots of girls do it.”

Me: “Not true. I have a lot of guy friends where it has only ever just been platonic.”

#1: “No you don’t.”

Me: “Yes I do! And this guy could very easily just want to be friendly because he thinks I’m funny and charming. Obviously.”

#2: “Sure, that’s possible, but not likely, and here’s why. On a list of reasons why this guy is emailing you like this, I guarantee you funny and charming aren’t at the top. They’re probably not even in the middle. Know what is? Wanting to bang you. Sorry, but that’s definitely #1. And if #1 doesn’t work out, guess what? You’ll be getting a lot fewer emails.”

#1: “Yeah, like none.”

Me: “But he knows I have a boyfriend!”

#2: “Doesn’t matter.”

Me: “That’s ridiculous.”

#1: “No, you’re ridiculous. I need another beer.”

Ok, but in my defense, I think I’m totally still right. I’m not sure how that’s a defense, but I’m sticking to it.

So what do you guys think? Also, you should obviously agree with me. Wasn’t sure if that was clear, but just putting it out there. Ok, proceed!