Friday Wrapup

Let's get to it!

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This week's book is called "The Black-Eyed Blonde" by Benjamin Black - and, appropriately, is a good summertime read! Also, my dad is awesome and posted a few to give me some cushion (and time) to post some books I've been reading. So, click here to check out this week's book AND browse around to see what else might inspire you!

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Um, I turned on the Spelling Bee briefly last night and it was TOO MUCH ANXIETY. I get too tense, you guys! I want them all to do so well! And they're all, like, way harder on themselves at 12 than I've ever been on myself ever.

But this kid broke my heart and I just. I can't, you guys.

"I totally know it!"

I understand, Jacob. I do that every time I watch Jeopardy! and then I'm like "Oh, I totally didn't know it."

***

This makes me happy. Happy weekend, everyone! Go be lovey and enjoy the sunshine!

Parenting your kids right into therapy.

Last night, CB and I babysat for friends of ours who have three kids under the age of five years old. So obviously, giving them a night out so they could just be two adults without the interruption of potty training and dirty diapers was our pleasure. Plus, these kids love us because, obviously  – and vice versa – and so we were like “we’ve totally got this.”

And then 45 minutes later, CB was chasing a pants-less three year old while I was holding a laughing five month old who projectile spit-up on me and herself just after I got her into her stupid, button-up onesie.

Me: “When we have kids, remind me to NEVER have button-up onesies. It took me 15 minutes to figure out which snaps went with which holes.”
CB: “So our babies will just be naked all the time? What are the other options?”
Me: “Zipper onesies. And honestly? Might save us some money on the energy bill for the laundry if they’re naked. I’ve changed her three times in two hours!”

And then our conversation got cut short because the five year old needed us to “check her bummer” after using the facilities and CB was like “no seriously, maybe we should just save our money and travel instead.” Because, in the course of two hours, we’d fed all three, read them books, changed diapers, brushed their teeth, put one in time out, cuddled, laughed, danced, taught them what a Mohawk was, and sang made-up songs in the dark as they settled into their bunk beds.

Also, I made up a song about poop in a diaper and sang it at the five month old while changing her as she gleefully squealed along and drooled. All pretty standard parent-stuff, right?

Me: “I think I might end up being a bad mom.”
CB: “What? You’ll be a great mom!”
Me: “Yeah, but I told Matthew he couldn’t lick his sister but he could go ahead and lick his own arm if he wanted.”
CB: “Makes sense to me.”
Me: “Which means that we’re going to have the kid that licks himself in school!”
CB: “Eh, could be worse.”
Me: “That’s true. But I just know that there’s no way to not mess up your kids in some way, and so now I’m hyper-aware of all of the things I say and do that might somehow scar them.”
CB: “Don’t worry about it. We don’t even have kids yet!”
Me: “True.”

Pause.

Me: “Plus, I think a little adversity is good for a kid, builds grit. Like, he’s the kid that licks? Now he’ll learn how to balance that with social norms and not getting teased all the time for it. Basically, I’m alright if our kids go to therapy for, like, a check-in. Self-awareness and growth is healthy. But not long-term therapy.”
CB: “That’s your goal? No long-term therapy?”
Me: “I’m setting the bar pretty low.”
CB: “Maybe we should just travel.”

Happy Thursday, everyone! 

Conversations from Cohabitation.

This text exchange happened last night after I’d gone to bed and CB was in the other room reading:

Me: I was just thinking about my celebrity list and I think you’ll be happy to know that George Clooney has gotten bumped for Matt Harvey.
CB: I’ll sleep better at night.
Me: I thought you would. I mean, this is a real changing of the guards. Clooney has been a staple for at least 15 years. When Matt Harvey was around 10. Which makes me dirty, I do realize.
CB: Your list will get younger as the people on it get older.
Me: But that makes me a dirty old lady. The others on my list are all respectably in their 30s or 40s. I’m not David Wooderson.
CB: You are wasting your list if there are people in their 40s on it. David who?
Me: Uh, Dazed and Confused: “I keep getting older and they stay the same age.” (I’m paraphrasing, but you get the gist.) Also, it’s never a waste when you’re talking about Ben Affleck.
CB: Oh, sorry, forgot his name.
Me: I forgive you.
CB: Wonderful. Have pleasant dreams about Ben but watch out, Matt Damon might sneak into the dream.
Me: Never. I have standards.
CB: I hope so!!!
Me: Also, I take this to mean that you’d prefer I stop texting you from the bedroom so you can get back to not having this conversation from 20 feet away?
CB: It’s possible. I also don’t want to interrupt your list thoughts.
Me: This is why we work. Good night!

***

So over the weekend I decided to conquer my fears and agree to go snorkeling with CB on our honeymoon. Hours after this decision, we were laying on the couch watching tv and a commercial came on selling a dating site aimed at people over 55 years old.

Me: “I hope we get to grow old together.”
CB: “Me too.”

Pause.

CB: “Or die in a firey blaze of glory together if we don’t.”
Me: “Totally.” (high five).

Pause.

Me: “Maybe while snorkeling in the Indian Ocean.”
CB: “I’d prefer to make it just a tad longer.”

Pause.

CB: “Maybe on the flight home.”
Me: “Oh, that’s long enough for you, is it?”
CB: “Well, the fun part will be over.”
Me: “I think we just wrote our wedding vows. This turned dark very quickly.”

Happy Tuesday, everyone! 

Friday Wrapup

Let's get to it!

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First of all, I KNOW. I'm the worst. I received several emails being like 'where are our mid-week posts?' and I was like 'I'm a failure.' Also, last night CB said "I think you're slacking. I logged in on Wednesday and I was like 'no post?' But I know you're really busy at work....not so sure your readers and fans will be as understanding." Um, not helpful.

So I promise that this was an anomaly and next week I'll be back with three posts (unless I'm not, in which case it's not an anomaly as much as it's just maybe par for the course when I'm lazy and/or busy?)

Either way, thanks for all the notes - appreciate the love!

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This week's Book of the Week is a throwback - kind of like TBT, which I must admit took me several weeks to figure out. I was like "To be determined? That's weird. All of these pictures are old." And then I realized that other people on Facebook are hipper than I am (and also a co-worker had to tell me it meant "Throwback Thursday") and so then I was up to speed.

Click here if you like any of the following things: (1) Raymond Chandler, (2) mysteries, (3) great books, or (4) chocolate (I mean, eating chocolate while reading a mystery? Win/win.)


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Um, CB? Bar raised.

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How come this guy isn't ever outside of the ShopRite by us? Way better than the woman who sometimes walks her cat on a leash and randomly shouts things at people who walk by.

Plus, I love that the guy had to put down his groceries to jam.

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No explanation necessary.

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And now, the Video of the Week! This also really doesn't need any explanation, but this started playing yesterday just as I was finishing up a project that has basically sucked the life out of me all week. And it seemed very appropriately timed. 

Enjoy your long, holiday weekend, everyone! I'll be back at you next Tuesday! 

Yes it's true.

I'm a terrible blogger who failed to blog yesterday OR today. But I've already planned out the Friday Wrapup for tomorrow, so STAY TUNED!

They Call me The Rain Man Of Love: Part II

As we know all-too-well by now, there have been several examples of times that I probably should’ve just thrown in the towel on this thing we call life and holed myself up in a Hoarder’s Paradise of Beyonce posters and Ryan Gossling bobbleheads. But then you wouldn’t have anything to read about to make you feel affirmed that you know at least one person whose life you don’t want to swamp your own out for. And I’m a servant of the people, you guys. I’m here for YOU.

So, I’m about to share a story with you that, unfortunately for him, CB has heard more than 10 times in his life. And each time he’s like “Seriously, what is wrong with you” while shaking his head in embarrassment that he didn’t know about this prior to proposing. And it came up again recently when I was talking to Courtney and she was like “Honestly, Beck, how is this someone’s life?” To which I replied “I’m impervious to humiliation, which is why this life works for me.” Obviously.

Anyway, do you guys remember when I told you about that time that I sang at the kid I had a crush on? (if not, click here. And yes, that really happened.) Well, apparently it was a growing trend for me to say-yell things at pubescent boys I peripherally knew until they felt weird enough to walk away. It was a strategy I didn’t give a lot of thought to at the time and was my version of courting that typically ended in me playing cards with Courtney at her mom’s house on a Friday night while we talked about whether guys secretly liked us and just hid it really well.

Ok. So there was this guy sophomore year in high school that was just the dreamiest, and his name was Paul Smith. (No, of course that isn’t his real name. I don’t actively hate myself, I’m not 15 anymore!) Anyway, he played sports, was tall, dark, and handsome, and he sat next to me in history class one semester – which I’m pretty sure he doesn’t remember vividly and I remember every moment of. Basically because I spent it trying not to look-slash-talk to him in fear that he’d catch on that I loved him to the depths of my sophomore soul.

And obviously the love was pure and real since most deep connections are built off of never speaking to each other or one person not knowing of your existence.

Well, the only person outside of me and my cat diary who knew of this budding love connection between Paul and me was Courtney. Basically, she’s the only one who signed up to care, which is the job of your best friend in high school -  and one she did dutifully, I might add, since I’m pretty sure he’s all I talked about for at least six months and she still stuck around.

However, eventually (and inexplicably to the thinking person), I psyched myself up to talk to him one fine day. You see, he played sports with a friend of ours who we’d sometimes wait for after practice outside of the locker room, and so we’d see him nearly every day. Or, I should say, I’d see him and quickly turn away and pretend he wasn’t there until Courtney assured me he’d walked down the hall without ever noticing me. And then I’d think deeply about that near-interaction until the next afternoon when I’d repeat the exact same thing.

And while I can’t remember the genesis of why I thought it’d be a good idea to buck tradition and switch the play one afternoon, I did just that and proceeded to tell Courtney that Today Was The Day. I was going to talk to Paul Smith.

Sidebar: I’m pretty sure Court knew this would be an epic fail, but we also didn’t have a whole lot going on in our lives in the middle of a sleepy Detroit suburb in the early-to-mid 90s, and so she probably figured it’d lead to at least a few good minutes of entertainment for her.

Right. So I got my head into a good place – I mean,  he’s just a guy. It’s not a big deal. He’s not a monster, he’s not a huge prick, he’s just a guy and you’re just a girl and what’s the worst thing that could happen?

I loved me some bangs.

So we’re standing there, likely talking about what a good idea this is and how well it’s going to go, when out of the locker room comes PS, all dreamy and tall. And there I was, complete with my 90s bangs and, I’m guessing, wearing a turtleneck, and my stomach is churning – a mixture of butterflies and the stomach flu – and my heart starts to pound so loudly in my ears that I almost didn’t hear what I was about to say out loud because the adrenaline was going so strongly that it was almost like an out of body experience.  

And then it happened.

“Hi Paul Smiiiiiiithhhhhhh.”

OH MY GOD.

You see, it’s not going to translate nearly as well without you being able to hear me actually saying it. But I assure you, you guys, it was awful. Because I didn’t just say his name to him – I said his name to him in a semi dream-like state, all breathy and ogling.

Like, just picture the exact opposite of the way you’d ever want to not convey that you’re in love with someone, and that was what I did.

IT WAS AWFUL.

I mean, I could actively feel Courtney simultaneously trying not to laugh while also feeling so aggressively embarrassed for me that she was having panic stomach pains at the idea of breathlessly saying someone’s name to them that you didn’t know.

To his credit, I think he said hi back? Which is impressive when you’re being mildly stalked by a girl in a polar bear sweatshirt. He was probably on the verge of scared of me because I think I maybe leaned in while I said his name to him? I’m not sure. That’s how I remember it in my head, but at this point it’s become such folklore among my friends that it’s possible he just sort of weirdly looked at me and then kept walking, wondering to his buddies who the girl with severe social inability was.

Anyway, this was maybe 12 months after I sang “Two Princes” at a French horn player at a private boys’ school, and so I was obviously on a roll with raking up the points. I had clearly found my niche and a sure-fire way to narrow down my dating pool to a negligible number. It was perhaps my biggest strength at 16 years old. I’d found what I was good at and I was pursuing it with all I had.

Obviously it didn’t affect me at all and it never comes up in conversation. Except for the time that Courtney came back from our 10 year high school reunion, called me up and said “Hey, Paul Smith was asking about you.” And I said “Really?” and she said “No, not really. But I said ‘Hi Paul Smiiiiiittttthhhhh.’”

And then I hung up on her.

So there you have it, you guys, a great way to start your Monday! Don’t you feel better about yourselves now?

Happy Monday! 

Friday Wrapup

One might've thought that I'd be talking about "the elevator incident" because, well, that's right up my alley. But I'm sort of over it? And also, now every time I'm in an elevator, I look for the cameras in the corners, wave, and then sadly say to myself "I'm not Beyonce."

Moving on.

Let's get to it!

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Shaming works, you guys. In last week's wrapup, I publicly shamed my family in the hopes that one of them would write a book review so I didn't have to read faster and post something again this week.

IT WORKED. Thank you, dad. I'm glad at least ONE family member loves me enough to let me use guilt to get them to do stuff.

This week's book is one that I gave my dad for Christmas and was happy to hear was something he actually enjoyed! It's always a crap-shoot (note to self: no "Spelling it Like it Is" for pops).

So, click here to learn about the History of the World in 100 Objects. Fun!

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I can't tell you how much time I spend on the streets of New York City hoping that I'll get ambushed by Billy from Billy on the Street. I love this town.

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And now, the Video of the Week. I had a different video all picked out, but then I was talking to my dad last night and he mentioned this song by Pearl Jam that I'd forgotten I love. Plus, it was the wedding song of two of my favorite people and so...why not? 

PLUS, we're going to a wedding tonight and that always gets me in a lovey mood and so I figured I'd take you guys along with me on the love train. You're welcome. 

Happy Friday, everyone! Enjoy your weekend! 

Tips on How Not to be a Vajazziling Lunatic for Your Wedding Day (from an expert)

Since we began planning our wedding about 9 months ago, I’ve run into the normal ups and downs of what most women experience during the course of this process: lots of input on everything from what my veil that I’m not wearing should look like, to “helpful” advice from people not even invited. This is all par for the course, expected, and frankly, not really something I spend too much time thinking about.

Basically because I’m highly evolved and above petty thoughts about an event that will last approximately 8 hours. Hahaha no, let’s get real. It’s because I’ve occupied my brain time thinking about sh*t that matters even less than my imaginary veil. It’s like a vortex of mason jars and sparkle ribbon that should trigger any normal person to be like “Wait. Put your money back in your pocket before you spend $20 per person on personalized straws, you complete lunatic.”

However, what I’ve rationalized to myself is that it’s all a matter of perspective. Sure, it is utterly ridiculous to spend LITERALLY MINUTES thinking at all about what font your chalkboard menu should be in. But in the grand scheme of weddings, this becomes so normalized that I sometimes feel like I’m living in a Truman Show-type reality where things are placed in front of me on purpose to see if I’ll eventually spin out of control and wind up on the shockingly popular tv show, “Brides Gone Bananas,’ screaming about how it’s the WRONG SHADE OF PINK and that I will cut the DJ for having the gall to ask whether he should include Kool and the Gang’s “Celebration” to the playlist during the reception!

(answer: I’m torn! It’s the perfect level of cheese and good-time fun that I ache for, yet completely and utterly the worst.)

So, because of my love of everything in a list, I’ve created a short one below of the Top Five Things Every Bride Needs to Just Not Care About:

Flowers.

This was actually a “helpful wedding tip”  sent to me months ago from a wedding website:

You want to find someone you trust to make the right floral decisions -- someone who instinctively knows what will look good together. Once you've narrowed it down to two or three, meet in person.

Someone I trust with good floral instincts? I mean, I get the gist of this, but let’s get real: you basically need to know how to arrange flowers better than I do – which is not at all – and not put carnations in there like I would. Done and done.

Also, quick poll: How many of you remember more than one (not including your own) wedding centerpiece and/or bouquet from a wedding you have attended in your lifetime?

Second poll: If you do remember those, how boring was the rest of the wedding?

I mean, sure, if you actually care about flowers, go for it. Also, if you’re rolling around in money and have $3-10,000 to spend on something that will die later that night – could you just get up from the pile, put it in an envelope, and send it on over to me?

A Welcome Party

It’s time to start planning the menu and details. A welcome party is hands-down a great way to get all your guests mixing and mingling early!

If I understand the idea behind this, it’s sort of like a pre-wedding? Which sounds both exhausting and expensive. And also sort of kills the point of the rest of the weekend? (except the love and marriage and love part, yadda yadda.)

Also, why do wedding websites hate the bride and groom? Are you trying to come up with extra things for us to plan and/or stress-eat over? Mission accomplished.

Personalized Napkins

Nobody needs this. I promise you. I realize that Pinterest makes you pine for the "Eat, Drink, and Be Married" napkins that keep popping up on every perfect board out there. 

Step away from the online step in which you pick your size, color, and whimsy quote and spend time figuring out how we can stop the sale of Nigerian girls by the hundreds. OR, at least spend time thinking about why you want to spend $10 per person on something they're literally wiping their faces with and then throwing away.  

Moving on.

Signature Cocktail

I will admit that designing our own signature cocktail sounded quite appealing for about 90 seconds. Until I realized that mine would be pink and his would be some weird dark brown and then I was like “Or we could just let people pick their own drinks like adult humans?” Also, we’re not a celebrity power couple (yet) who could really get away with, like, “Brangelina’s Bourbon” or something, though I’m sure it’d be delicious and incorporate notes from all around the globe.

But honestly, this was something I got asked about on more than two occasions, which sometimes makes you feel like it’s a thing – sort of like vajazziling or pajama jeans – but it’s not. Or at least not a thing you should spend brain power on unless you have literally done everything else on your life’s to-do list. Then please, make a signature cocktail with a moustache straw in it and have a good time for yourself.

And finally…..

Dance Lessons

More tips:

If you dread the idea of all eyes on you during the first dance, you might want to consider dance lessons. (Also makes for a fun date night in the midst of all the planning!)

Let’s get real: CB and I were genetically blessed with the gift of dance, as so many of us are. And so this one was a non-issue for us.

OR I actually contemplated this notion for a few minutes because CB was like “I don’t want to get out there and sway back and forth like we’re at a seventh grade dance.” Which of course was what I was assuming we would just do, because that’s how everyone slow dances – leave room for the Holy Ghost! – so I was surprised that this wasn’t the look we were going for.

But then I was like “I’m pretty sure only about 20 people will actually be watching us. The rest of the people will be up at the bar or wondering when the salad will come out and/or when I’ll stop sobbing so they can hear the music.”

However, I found a Groupon for ballroom dancing and CB was like “I’m not doing that” and so it was a pretty easy decision. Get ready for some awkward swaying, you guys! Besides, I think that he quickly realized that any “fun date night” that incorporated a dance class with me would quickly spiral into me trying to reenact all important scenes from “Dirty Dancing,” which would make him pre-divorce me.

And there you have it. I’m sure I’ve missed, like, one billion things. But one of the helpful intricacies of my brain is that things quickly enter and then leave when I feel as if it’s completely stupid. Which is useful so that I can retain all information related to Tori and Dean, Beyonce and the Elevator Incident, and every twist and turn that happens on “Scandal.” My brain knows how to prioritize.

Happy Wednesday! 

Conversations from Cohabitation

The other night we were watching the NFL draft, which took place at Radio City Music Hall.

Me: "Have you ever seen anything there?"
CB: "Yeah, I think maybe I saw Beyonce there years ago."
Me, sitting up: "Wait, what? You saw Beyonce in concert? How am I just hearing about this!?"
CB: "I think she was there? I don't know, it was a bunch of performers, I don't really remember. Maybe she wasn't? I don't know, I thought it was Beyonce but it was years ago."
Me: "You saw Beyonce in concert and don't remember? It's like when you got stung by a stingray and you didn't remember."
CB: "If I got stung by a stingray, that'd be memorable. It was a jellyfish."
Me: "Seeing Beyonce would be more memorable than a stingray. She's one of the biggest performers of our generation! I can't believe we've been together this long and I'm just now hearing this. It's like I don't know you at all."
CB: "Relax, I'm googling it and I don't think it was Beyonce. Maybe Mariah Carey."
Me: "I can't even look at you right now. I'm too worked up."

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Watching a commercial for Mother's Day the other day:

Me: "So, I think it's only fair for me to let you know that, if we end up having kids, I'm going to expect Mother's Day to be a thing."
CB, staring at me.
Me: "I mean, I know it sounds crazy since we're not married yet and don't have kids. But just so you know, it'll be your responsibility as the husband-slash-father to help the kids pick out, like, a card. Especially when they're young."
CB, still staring at me and shaking his head.
Me: "I don't care about gifts, they don't need to get me gifts. But, I mean, I'm gonna kill it with the kids on Father's Day and so I just wanted to be clear about expectations going into this."
CB: "You've got some set on you. Are you seriously preparing me for Mother's Day and we don't even have any kids for you to mother?"
Me: "Yes. But this is all about managing expectations ahead of time. Saves us both a lot of time and energy with the guessing game."
CB: "What about when I surprised you for your birthday? Or when I made a Beyonce-themed Valentine's Day dinner? You think I'm not good at preparing surprises?"
Me: "No, you're great! But it doesn't have to be a surprise. I just want you to know that it'll be awkward to fight in front of the kids if I'm buying my own Mother's Day cupcakes."
CB, still shaking his head: "You are somethin' else."
Me, singing to myself: "Happy future mother's day to me!"

Happy Monday!

Friday Wrapup

IT'S THAT TIME. Let's get to it.

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This is my life. The NFL draft is now my life. Thankfully, CB doesn't dance around the house like this (probably because he's a Jets fan and there's often little to dance about. I'M SORRY. But the truth hurts.)

However, because I'm a supportive fiance, I asked leading questions that would allow for 3-7 minute answers from CB, leaving me ample time to check Facebook, respond to email, and once in a while be like "No way! Really?" so that I showed just enough interest.

But THEN he told me that there was someone in the draft named HaHa and I stopped everything and immediately started making up fake NY Post and Daily News headlines in the dream that the Jets drafted him.

"No More Laughs for HaHa Now That He's a New York Jet."
"HaHa Laughing All the Way to the Bank with New York Jets Monster Contract."

You get the picture. I will say, though, that these headlines were a hit in my house last night and it was good to see CB laughing before the inevitable tears that will come if there are any more butt fumbles or torn ACL's (which some in his family blame on me because I'm bad Jets juju or something. It has nothing to do with team management, you guys.)

J-E-T-S JETS JETS JETS! (now we've exhausted all knowledge I have, or care about, the NFL draft.)

***

This week's book is....WHAT? That's right. We all slacked. But since we were together last weekend (well, three of the four of us), I will give everyone a pass for ONE WEEK. But that's all.

What are you reading?

***

The simple reason behind posting this is because I can't not laugh. I laugh when other people laugh, and hearing the word "badonkadonk" is always funny to me. Plain and simple.

***

And now, the Video of the Week. Um, if you didn't know already, Sunday is Mother's Day. So, this week's video has a dual purpose: 1, it has the word "mother" in it, so it's appropriate for the occasion and 2, it's so 90s it almost hurts. That hair. The outfit. It's so deliciously 90s.

Also, it reminds me of Courtney because we used to listen to this song all the time and think we were deep. You're weird when you're 16, what can I say.

Happy Mother's Day to my mom who basically nailed it in the mom department, making all other mother's feel inadequate, as she's known to do. But seriously - happy mother's day to all of you mom's out there, I hope you enjoy your weekend!

Texting While Tanning

So last week I decided that I’d do a practice run spray tan for my bridal shower. Since I’m likely going to do this for our wedding, I wanted to give it a go because I didn’t want to look orange but also think that's preferable to exposing myself to skin cancer. 

However, after making the appointment I started to get nervous about what I was in for, so I texted Mary:

Me: So, I’m getting a spray tan tonight as practice for my wedding. What are the odds that I don’t end up looking like an oompah loompah?
Mary: Oh, I hope so! Wait, not helpful?
Me: Not helpful.
Mary: I would say you have spray tanned enough to know what you are doing….but it is you.
Me: Uh, I’ve never spray tanned. And this is one of those places where someone does it to me? I’m starting to get flop sweat.
Mary: You haven’t?? Oh hell. You want a professional to do it. You don’t want to be a decision-maker! And I know you love being naked in front of people….you know you gotta get naked, right?
Me: It’s not going to go well. Like, naked-naked? Like no underpants???
Mary: You can leave your undies on. But I’ve done it with or without. Without makes me feel like I’m getting money’s worth. That’s a lot of real estate. But I will warn you…the spray tan chick is gonna get real close to you. This ain’t 50 feet away with a fire hose! Now am I helpful??
Me: That IS helpful! Wait, like how close? I better put on more deodorant.
Mary: They won’t touch you…but they could.
Me: Will anyone make it to second base?
Mary: If they have to lift your boob to spray under it, then yes.
Me: Wait, I have to lift my boobs?? I’m gonna pass out.
Mary: Lifting your arm should do the trick!

Pause.

Mary: You know to wear grubby clothes? Not your fancy hoody.
Me: Yeah, they told me – no fancy hoodies tonight!

Two hours later.

Mary: Are you orange?? Details!
Me: I’m not! And I got naked in front of a stranger! And, staying true to form, I think she ended up feeling more uncomfortable than me by the end. Sometimes I say awkward things to make it more awkward by accident.
Mary: Sometimes? All the time. 

Happy Wednesday, everyone!

Troubleshooting

So yesterday I had some issues posting and then got sleepy and stopped trying. I'm a good blogger. So I'll post for real tomorrow!

But also wanted to let you know that I've been hearing from a lot of you that all of a sudden you've stopped getting email alerts when a new blog post goes up - this seems to be the case for at least Yahoo and Gmail, from what you've told me, and so I wanted you to know that I'm looking into it. And by looking into it, I mean I'm emailing blogger and being like "I don't know how my own blog works. Can you help?"

So stay tuned - and thanks for being loyal readers AND letting me know that this is an issue!

Friday Wrapup

Let's get to it!

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First of all, this weekend is my bridal shower AND my parents are coming into town. So it's pretty much the best and there are no two ways around that.

Second of all, I have a story for you guys on Monday that involves me being naked in front of a stranger (AGAIN) and making her, inevitably, feel more awkward than I did by the end. Winner.

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Here is the book of the week. BOOM. I finally posted something! What do you think? Have you guys read this?

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This is the best one yet.

Also, she's one of my favorite's. One, because one time at one party, a friend told me that I reminded him of her and that was basically the best. And two, because of the movie "Crazy, Stupid, Love." Which, the other day, I was telling a friend about and she was like "I've never seen it" and I was like "Literally leave work now and go home and watch it."

I feel strongly about seeing Ryan Gosling's abs as often as possible.

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Tiny hamsters eating tiny burritos is maybe the best thing that's happened to the Internet. Also, makes me excited for Cinco de Mayo! Thanks tiny hamsters!

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This week's Video of the Week isn't really so much a video as it is a song. And it's a throwback to 2004 when DJ Danger Mouse mixed the Beatles' White Album with Jay Z's Black Album. The result was something that I, personally, loved.

It's not for everyone. (like, maybe my dad? and mom?) But I dig it. Enjoy!