Young and Beautiful

This 'Alias' is kind of comical. Usually I take an everyday person and choose an actor to be his alias. This person is an actor, so I'm choosing a recogniseable non-actor to play his part. This is Brock O'Hurn. I know, he doesn't quite look like the god you all know him as, but when he was younger, he does look plenty like his alias so that's the picture I'm using.

Last weekend I was at Comic Con. It was my first time going, and amazingly it was all free, except parking! I had a great time, met some great people, and played and danced to my heart's content! For those who don't know, it's three days long. I wore my Black Widow outfit the first and last days, and my Jean Grey on the second day. The past few Halloween's had me prepared, and got me the free tickets. Anyway, so this Alias starts at about lunchtime the third day. I had just finished my photo op with Chris Evans (no alias), and decided it was getting late and I needed food. A few minutes later, I'd gotten my food, set it down at a table, and noticed a gorgeous creature sitting two tables over. He was sitting there with this absolutely glorious hair, piercing blue eyes, and a goatee (which I'm normally not a fan of, but completed the look). He was wearing what looked like maybe a pirate costume or something, with pretty fantastic biceps that were too good to just be casual. This guy was obviously not a regular Comic Con guy. I stared unabashedly, as he stared back, neither of us connecting, just staring. My friend asked me if I was still going to look up whatever it was, and I fumbled, trying to remember what on Earth had just come out of my mouth a moment before. I was completely taken by this man. I sat down, and tried to get back to what was going on around me. Maybe five minutes later, I looked over and he had put that glorious hair in a man bun. I get it, they are alllll the rage in men's hairstyles these days, and that it requires long hair, I am eternally grateful (there's an entire post about it on my other blog)... but there are some people who have hair so unbelievably perfect, it should never be allowed to be restrained. I knew I'd regret it if I didn't go over there, so I excused myself from my table and walked over. As I came over, he smiled, and when I got to him I said, "Hi, um, you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen, can I take a picture with you?" Yes, I said that. I'm direct, and I'm not afraid of being honest. He smiled and said, "Yes, of course!" We took a few, and then I asked him if he would just do me one teensy little favor, and take his hair down. He kind of laughed and did, and we took a couple more pictures. Then I thanked him, and I'm not sure now exactly how we got there, but we were just staring into each other's eyes for a moment, until I remembered that his friends were there probably wondering what was going on with the awkward girl, haha! I said something about that, thanked him, and went back to my seat. I got into conversation and then I noticed him get up... and head my way. He had this adorable smile on as he asked me if I would send him a copy of that picture. Hahaha, well, if that's the new way of exchanging numbers, then absolutely! He put his name in me phone, Brock O'Hurd, yep, he spelled his name wrong... but I didn't know it at the time. I told him I'd send it to him, and before he left, he came back to confirm that I would. Of course I would, he's Adorable, and so sweet! The next morning I woke up sick. The next morning i also sent him the photo. When he replied we had some conversation over the next four hours.  We talked about likes, dislikes, family, hobbies, normal "getting to know you" questions. He was very flirty, and I was very complimentary. In meeting him, and in conversation, I could tell that he was a good guy. He has a good, clean mind, and golden heart. Whenever I suggested it though, he seemed to want to correct that perception. He wanted me to think he was neither of those things. I know beautiful men tend to be self -deprecating, in an attempt to be viewed as humble, and as long as it's not overkill it's fine. I've learned that when a beautiful man is overly self-deprecating, it's because it's true, and to stay away. Brock wasn't on overkill though, so it was ok. We chatted through the next day, and he asked to come over to my house when I was finished with work. Our conversation through the day had me perfectly convinced that he was good, kind, funny, interesting, mentally stimulating, and a person I'd definitely like to know. Now, I wanted to see him, but I was really sick, and quite miserable. I told him that, and he persisted in his desire to do something spontaneous. Ok, as long as I'm in bed by midnight.

When I opened the door, there was Brock in all the t-shirt and jeans glory a man could have... and that was about the end of what was enjoyable. We sat on the couch and the first thing out of his mouth was that he wanted to know deepest and darkest thing about me. I'm a happy, upbeat girl. I tend not to dwell on the deep, dark things. It took me some time to even think of what I would consider deepest and darkest. I told him he would have to tell me his too, and he agreed. We exchanged what we consider to be the deepest and darkest, and I gotta say, his was Very brooding teenager, and what I would consider to be a very weak, surface answer to that sort of question. Then he said, "Well, now you and I can never see each other again." Uhhhh, what? His entire demeanor changed. His expressions were now a cockiness that is born of insecurity, and a haughty disdain that I didn't understand the purpose of. He kept saying "one more question" and then another and another. I soon realized that he was doing a Lot of lying. That man should not ever play poker, and I imagine, that his acting suffers from it as well. When a person is not used to lying, their body language is Super obvious. They try to hide themselves in their lies. Obvious cues Brock was lying: demeanor changes - he became visually agitated and oddly belligerent by the normal conversation that ensued. There was a lot of eyebrow raising and looking down his nose, or away. He got really fidgety and started looking around the room, down, away, and messing with his hair whenever ha answered a question with a lie. There were times that he physically moved away from me and covered his entire face with his hair in a subconscious attempt to get away from his lies. I wasn't born yesterday, I've experienced a lot of lies in my lifetime, I just didn't understand why he was doing it. I asked him some very open ended questions, and very direct, and he lied through most of them, one after the next after the next as he built a story on them. Before he left, I asked him why he came over. He said that he operates on intuition, and that he had felt he was 'supposed' to come over, and that he was 'supposed' to fulfill a purpose for me. His stab in the dark was that he was there to give me hope about men. Ummm... next try? I felt like he had done a great job of convincing me that young an beautiful men are insecure liars that are not worth my time. He thought I had been inconsistent, and not normal... I hadn't even asked him his age! Haha. I told him that age puts people in a box, and that I didn't want to have all the 'info' that box would put on him. That being said, he is easily google-able... and he's 21. Anyway, he went from being someone I would have enjoyed knowing, to someone I hope grows up before he dates again, and want nothing to do with. The poor guy has no idea how to handle a woman. I went directly to bed when he left, grateful for the evening to be over, and when I woke up my first thought of the new day was, "I wish he hadn't come, I needed the rest so much more than childish games." It's extremely unattractive to be lied to, especially so much, especially for no apparent reason, to a stranger. He was beautiful. He was interesting. He was good. He seemed so normal, and down to Earth. I don't see him the same way after that night. Now to see his face is not enjoyable. It actually makes me cringe. To see his smile makes me think of the constant deceptions beneath it. His form makes me think of the ways he uses it to put himself on a level that he decides if others are worthy of his presence. I gather that most aren't. At the very end of the conversation he revealed that he had lied about some things a person would normally not lie about. He said it to emphasize that he is above pretty much everyone around, in that area. I mean really. I asked him 1-10 and he said 11 without batting an eye. Well kiddo, I see now why you don't like yourself. I would have to agree. Don't worry, if you stay as good as you really are, and stop fighting the typecast of your life, you'll figure it out when you're older... or rather, when you mature. Then you'll be Amazing. Until then, you are no longer young and beautiful to me. You're just a child whose body is outgrowing you. I feel bad for the next girl that wants a picture with you.

Sorry real Brock O'Hurn... I wish your alias was a nicer guy. I would have written that story if he'd given it.

I Almost Married Him

Remember that time I got engaged? Yeah, I forget about it a lot too, actually. That's probably why you've never heard the story. It was summer when we met. Specifically, it was July 5th. I was at a barbecue in LA when this handsome guy sat down next to me and started chatting me up. There was something about the way he moved his mouth that makes me have no idea what on Earth he actually said to me. I do remember that I was eating a hot dog, and was very self conscious about it. I remember that he was very focused on talking with me. I remember that he asked me for my number. I told him I lived in Arizona, and he said that was just fine... so I gave him my number. I was pretty sure I was never going to hear from him when I went home the next morning. July 9th was one of my bestie's birthday, and she was having a party at this fancy shmancy house nearby. There was a tube slide from the roof into the pool, and the long pool ended in a white sand beach. The staircase inside was straight out of a movie. The garage had twenty amazing cars, stacked one on top of the other, and the guys and I had a blast ogling those and the motorcycles for a while. My dad is a car guy, and I am his daughter. Right about the time I was drooling over Eleanor, my phone rang. It was Matthew Fox. I was surprised, to say the least! We chatted awhile, and in the course of it, I told him of my surroundings. He said, "I wish I was there." I said, "Well then... come over!" He obviously wasn't expecting to hear that, and said, "But I live in LA". My reply was a test, of sorts. I said, "Come onnnnn.... Be Spontaneous!" He paused for just a moment, and said he'd drive out in about an hour. I smiled. Handsome, and does what I want, just for asking." This was going to be a good thing. Hours later he showed up on my doorstep with a friend of his that I'd actually met previously. We spent the next day together and they drove out in less than 24 hours. July 13th, three days later, he and I had spoken a few more times, and he said he wanted to talk to me about something. Sure. He said he felt like it would be a good idea if we got married! I thought he must be joking! Of course he was joking, right? No. He was very serious. He asked when I would want to get married and I said I'd like to get married in June... because of 7 Brides for 7 Brothers. In that movie it's said that if you marry in June you'll be a bride all your life. I said that and he reiterated that he was serious. I said I was too, and then he reasoned that it was a good idea, we'd know each other 11 months before getting married! Well. Uhhhh. Ok...... He asked what kind of ring I'd like. I said 3 carats. He said ok. Huh. Ummmm. Ok...... He said some more things and asked a few more questions and all the while I was thinking, "What on Earth am I doing?!? I can't Marry him! I don't even Know him!!!" I'd already refused two proposals from men I'd known Quite longer! This is Crazy!!! How would that even work?" Well, next thing I knew, I'd agreed to marry a handsome stranger. Sounds like a Disney movie? Yeah, I'm sure that was in there somewhere too. Over the next 6 months we spoke almost constantly. We made wedding plans, I adored my sparkly rock. He called me every morning with a sweet, "Good morning Beautiful!" and we talked until I had to get going. He called every day when I got off work. My friends soon got tired of me talking to them and him on, the phone, at the same time. My phone bill skyrocketed to over $400 that first month. He made trips out to Arizona, I made trips out to Santa Clarita. It was perfect. Wait... no it wasn't. Over the phone it was. I answered everything right for him, and he answered everything right for me. There was absolute open, honest communication. We learned everything about each other, and there were no red flags, no deal breakers. We worked together to strengthen our relationship. Oh, funny thing, his last name... Fox. So, I asked him if he was related to a prominent person in our religion with that last name. He said that no, that was a different family... but he was related to the governor of a state. Oh. How boring. Fast forward a few years until that governor ran for President of the United States. It was weird watching him on tv. They are obviously related. Anyway, so it was perfect... but not. I started to discover that he really annoyed me in person. He couldn't take a joke, he couldn't dance. He didn't mesh seamlessly with my friends, and kind of hung back in social situations. He moved like he was insecure or nervous all the time, and though he was definitely one of the most handsome men I've dated, he never got past the awkwardness in person. Oh, and he threw a tantrum... that's attractive in a grown man. Not. Anyway, he also had this thing where he was strangely aware of designer jeans. He always said I needed to get some and that 7 For All Mankind (7's) were the best. Later that became a red flag when others would speak highly of their Diesels. Hahaha. Come on guys, I wanna be the girl in the relationship!! The breaking point came just after Thanksgiving. There was a party at a ranch one night. There is a big, open area outside that was being used as the dance floor, and if you wandered out and about, you might find your shoe in some sort of horse or cow... um, excrement. Well, that's what happened to Matthew. He stepped in something, complained to me profusely, and apparently I didn't give the response he expected. Now, at the time, I was the most shallow and girly I've ever been in my life. I cared about sparkly things, and matching my shoes to my belt to my purse. That sort of girl. Even so, at the time, I would have hollered about it to anyone who was within earshot, got a few laughs, kicked it off my shoe, and continued with my night. I figured Matthew was doing that. Some time later, I realized he had been gone a while and after much searching, I found him in the car, with his arms folded across the steering wheel, and his forehead on his arms. I have nothing but disdain for that level of sissy (in the nicest way possible). I told him to come out, that he was making a bad impression, and he half cried that his shoes were in the Trunk!! Hahaha. Ok, let me get them for you. They Stink!! Ok... then stay here. I'll be back in twenty when I'm ready to go. It happened that he was driving out early the next day, and honestly, I was so ready for him to go. After he'd gone, one of my best guy friends came over. We had dated a while earlier, but he had something going on that really scared me when it came to the thought of 'our' future. We were absolutely wonderful friends though. He was a particularly manly man. He was big and strong, worked with his hands, had the kind of fun that made him go mostly blind in one eye, and was working the MMA circuit. I told him about what had happened and he said fifteen words that will forever be etched in my mind. I can hear them as I type them, "You don't want your daughters to learn to be prissy from their father, do you?" I laughed, he laughed, and the light bulb shone brightly. Of Course Not!!! In that instant, all the handsome, smart, rich, connected... everything, melted away and I was Absolutely Done with him. I went out with someone else that night. Someone else that also has a rather funny story here as well :)

Basketball Diaries

When I was in the 4th and 5th grades I was into books more than boys. That's normal right? I was on a quest to read every Nancy Drew book written, and I eventually did, and started on The Hardy Boys series. My best friend Adrianne and I used to pull out our books the instant we sat down in the school lunchroom. We didn't talk to each other all through lunch most days, and were most commonly seen after lunch heading out to the playground side by side, with our noses in our books, using our peripheral vision as well as the automaticity of walking the same steps everyday to get there. We were too consumed by our books to care about anything else going on around us. We would head out to the far end of the playground where there was a little pine tree that gave just enough shade to cover two young bookworms, and stay there until the whistle blew, forcing us to finish  the page before we got
back to the building. There were days that we talked, and days that we played, but mostly, we read. It was perfect, two awkward preteens that could finish a book and trade midweek, not having to make another trip
to the library.

There was only one thing that consistently tore us away from our books... my pursuit of Leo. I had decided years earlier that I was going to marry him. I had decided I was going to marry someone that went to my church, so I stood up in front of the pew my siblings were sitting on, stuck out my finger and spun around a few times.When I finished, I was pointing at the biggest nerd in my grade. Well... I definitely wasn't going to marry him (though he later turned out to be a really great guy, I found). I spun again and my finger was pointing right at Leo. Perfect! He was my age, he was a cute kid, and we were destined to be together!! There was only the minuscule problem that he hated me. Well, looking back, I'm not sure he actually hated me, but there were signs of it. Once he made fun of my red hair, and then that I was short, and then that my skin was so pink. I'm sure he didn't know what blushing was at the time. Another time I got a bloody nose and he acted like it was a very catching deadly disease. This was before any blood borne diseases would have been known to a 6 year-old. His mom watched us after school one day, and he played with my brown-haired brother and sister, but I may as well have not been there. There are many times he treated me with disdain, or with outright cruelty, but I was steadfast and true in my love for him, sure that it was only a matter of time before he would fall in love with me. I admired the way he played basketball, the way he had so many friends, and more than anything else, his talent for drawing.

The 6 year old turned into a 9 year old, and my infatuation was still very much intact. We were never in the same class at school, but once his teacher brought him to our class to show off a picture he'd drawn. I melted. I was just discovering my own drawing talents and was sure this was a sign. I looked at Adrianne and she knew just what I was thinking. We concocted a plan to make him see that I was his one and only someone. Books went inside our desks for a few weeks as we saved up lunch treats, a few coins here or there, and won contests... all to secure a full set of basketball cards. He was always playing basketball, so we knew that to get a complete set of the basketball cards everyone seemed to have only pieces of, would definitely get his attention. We saved and traded until we had them all, and then wrapped them in a red ribbon and put a little note with it. I don't remember now exactly what our plan was to get them to him, but I think it was the recess after lunch that we had someone else give them to him, and had them say it was from me, or something to that effect. Adrianne and I were so excited that I was finally going to be with my true love, and we waited anxiously for news. None came. The bell finally rang and as we came over to the basketball court to be sure he had even gotten them, we saw them. Well, we saw the red ribbon, and we saw lots and lots of pieces of basketball cards blowing across the ground. I was heartbroken. My poor little heart, torn to shreds and blowing across the playground. That was my first taste of rejection. My advice to you is this, young girls, don't choose the man you're going to marry before he loves you... and don't buy him basketball cards until he's already yours. Major waste of time and effort. All these years later, I remember the valuable lesson he taught me on that basketball court.

This can be applied to the not as young girls too ;)

Fat Oreo Girlfriend

So, Adam Lambert did something that was super sweet the other day when he took me to the airport. Well, first of all, I should start by saying... despite all the style things he does that are completely foreign to me... I'm starting to really like him. I know, I know, totally not the usual guy I go for... but I mean really... How was that working out for me? lol... yeah, still single. Anyway, so before we went to the airport I met his daughter... and not on purpose, his ex-wife. K, I gotta tell the story because it was so funny... then I'll get to what he did. So, a couple weeks ago I called him on my lunch break and she was there. He has been careful not to talk to girls around her because she's got some mental issues that would be aggravated by it. Anyway, I was eating an Oreo, and he was saying that it's not very healthy, in the course of our conversation. When he got off, she got all kinds of quiet and made reference to his "fat oreo girlfriend". That made him laugh which made her more mad. So, anyway, she made some more references to it in the weeks that followed. So, this particular day, when we went to see the baby and she was there, I was completely prepared to be sociable and cordial. She was very rude to him and didn't make any indication that she was aware of my presence... which was really perfectly fine by me... I wasn't having the best hair day so her not looking at me was a good thing. Well, that's not entirely true. She pretended like she was looking for something in her long puffy jacket and so unzipped it for about 4 seconds and turned toward me, just long enough to show off the fact that she has a cute figure. The funny thing about that is there could be no way there was anything in her jacket because she was wearing a long tight shirt with leggings! I couldn't help but chuckle, but she didn't seem to notice. She left, and it was Sooooo precious to see how daddy and daughter interacted. He took out his guitar and played a chord. Her attention went to him and her face lit up! He played another, and she smiled again and went over to him. He gave her the pick and she played facing him for a moment then turning around and he put her between himself and the guitar, where she resumed strumming as he played chords. They so obviously adore each other! She warmed up to me when I gave her a little present, but it wasn't long before we had to drop her off. So, during this little visit, Adam had text his ex, "Sorry for the awkwardness" and her reply was that he "could do better than a redhead". ...Yeahhhh, not offended, lol. Anyway, so when we got to her place she had on this matching work out outfit, black sports bra, shorts, headband, gloves, socks, and shoes, and her hair was up... and it was quite obvious she hadn't done even one crunch or one lunge in the last hour and a half. She ignored me again, but I had to laugh again because she had shoved her fake tatas as far up as they could possibly go... I just thought to myself... yeah... THAT takes Effort to get them up that high! hahaha. Anyway, I was not impressed by her show of feigned athleticism, and we left, laughing all the way. Anyway, so on the way to the airport he introduced me to some new bands and was surprised I knew others. I told him, I haven't listened to country music until just a few years ago! Anyway, to the cute part. When we got there he helped me with my bags and thank you and goodbyes were said. I gave him a hug, just a quick friendly hug... and I got stuck there. I felt kinda dumb for not letting go, but I couldn't bring myself to. He released himself from my grip and we talked for another few minutes before I grabbed my bags and headed inside (my flight was leaving in ten minutes!). I couldn't help but look back as I walked away, it was one of those perfect moments in life. He looked back at me and we smiled. I looked back twice more and each time he had moved so that he could still see me as I walked away. I walked through the airport on my way to security and a moment later I passed a large window door and there he was, in his car creeping slowly and watching me as I walked by. I waved, he waved back, and then was out of view. I came to the next sliding doors and he was there again, creeping as fast as I was walking. I laughed, and waved, and he did too. There were four doors he met me at, and each one made me more happy, and flustered, and I think more twitterpated, than the last. After that last one I hurried quickly through security and They were waiting for me at the gate as I tried uselessly to run those cute heels. Then I got a text... I will miss you tiny. I knew it, those actions were louder than any words.

First Kiss Stolen

Pretty much everyone will be kissed at some point in their lives. Everybody who is kissed has a story. Sometimes that story is romantic, or gross, or unexpected, or any number of things really. This one is mine. I was seventeen, shy, and not the kind of girl who was looking for a first kiss any time soon. I was busy with my girlfriends, and work, and just enjoying being young. That being said, I was typical in that I had crushes on boys I knew, and celebrities of course. Jonathan Taylor Thomas and Leo DiCaprio were my favorites. It was the aftermath of Titanic, and it was inevitable. I had some friends who were going to a school dance. It was the girl-ask-guy dance at the beginning of the year. I hadn't been on more than a few dates at most, and I didn't know anybody I'd want to go with. I kind of had this idea in my mind that I would love to go out with a jock. I wanted an athletic guy that was handsome and good at some kind of sport. I didn't know anyone though, and time was running short. My friend Jenny really wanted me to go, and so she asked her cousin Brendon if he would go with me. We had never met, nor spoken with each other, but he agreed to go... and he ran track. He went to a different school, but Jenny and Brendon's other cousin Rebecca was also going with a guy from another school so I guess that was normal. The morning of the dance the whole group of twenty or so dates gathered together for our day date. I came in and was introduced to my date. He was very nice, and very tall. He was muscular, and slim, and seemed to be easygoing and very easy to talk to. Then Rebecca's date arrived. I had heard the girls talking earlier about Travis, but didn't know much other than he was "so awesome" and "gorgeous". Awesome, probably... gorgeous, no doubt... and he was wearing a Letterman's jacket. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, and how could I not? He had dark hair, an infectious laugh, and commanded the attention of everyone in the room. This was exactly my idea of that jock in my mind. Everything about him fascinated me in that moment. I was intrigued, but he was Rebecca's date, and therefore off limits to even consider being interested in. Besides, he obviously liked Rebecca if he was going on the date with her. Through the day, the cousins stayed close, so the six of us got to know each other better than the rest of the group. We talked and laughed and played together for hours. Then, just before we split up to get cleaned up and ready for the dance, we decided to take a group photo. I sat to the left of Brendon, and sitting to his right was Travis, and then Rebecca. We got situated and Travis put his hand on mine behind Brendon. I didn't think much of it, being that there had been no indication of any interest between us. Several pictures were taken, and somewhere in there he squeezed my hand. Then I got it. What I would give to see that expression on my face at that moment! We went our separate ways for a few hours, and then got back together for dinner and the dance. Glances were stolen, and smiles exchanged with an eager look from him and a blush from me. I didn't know the first thing about flirting at the time, and I was just trying not to show that I was aware of his interest. I really was enjoying my date, and Jenny would kill me if I hurt Rebecca. I had no intention of gravitating toward Travis, being the situation was what it was, and I didn't want anything to happen that would make it awkward. Thankfully the evening passed very pleasantly for everyone, and eventually the six of us bid the rest of the group good night, and piled into Jenny's mom's minivan. Brendon lived the furthest away, so he was first to be dropped off. As I was walking him to his door to say goodnight, the minivan drove away... no doubt to give us "privacy". Well that was awkward. It became even more awkward when Brendon leaned down to kiss me and I turned my head away. I apologized and told him I hadn't ever kissed anyone before and wanted to kiss someone I loved when it did happen. He was totally fine with that, being that he had never kissed anyone before either. He went in the house and I sat down on the curb and waited for the minivan to come back. It did a moment later, and I climbed back to my spot in the very back seat behind Rebecca. Travis waited not three seconds before he was next to me. Jenny eyed us from the rear view mirror as she and her date chatted. Rebecca was involved in that conversation too, so Travis had me mostly to himself. He asked me if I had kissed Brendon. I shyly said no. He didn't believe it, and asked if he had kissed me then. I again said no. He was teasing and laughing as he asked if we had held hands as we walked up to the door, if we stopped before he went in and stared deeply into each other's eyes like this, and realizing that we were mad for each other, didn't he put his hand to your face (as he put his hand to my face), and kiss you like this? And then he leaned in and kissed my lips. It was little more than a peck, but it felt like magic. My lips tingled with the sensation of his on them, and the whole world melted away for a moment and became just us. His teasing stopped as soon as he kissed me and he paused for my reaction. I was surprised of course, and only said quietly that I had never been kissed before. He said he wouldn't have kissed me then, like that, if he had known it was my first kiss. At the moment I didn't mind. Shortly the world came back abruptly as Jenny's voice broke in asking for directions to his house. He looked apologetically as he went back to his seat next to Rebecca and gave the directions. We arrived at his house and the two of them walked to the door to give their good nights. I couldn't see them and wondered if he was the kind of guy who just kissed girls because they were in front of him. A moment later Rebecca got back in the car and reported that there had been no kiss at the door. I smiled to myself realizing then that he must have meant it. That night I fell asleep still replaying that kiss. That stolen, magical kiss that I will never forget because it was my first.

One, Two, Three Strikes... You're OUT!!!

I used to work with a girl named Rihanna. She was fun, outgoing, and up for pretty much anything all the time. We were about the same age and had similar social interests and so were instantly friends.

One problem though, she had a boyfriend of two years and I was single and dating. She was convinced that my life would be better if I had a boyfriend, and was determined to get me one. I didn't feel that I was lacking at all, but if she wanted to get me a date that might turn into more I was certainly not opposed to it. She gave me the verbal questionnaire of what things I was looking for, what things I like and dislike in a man, and then set to work finding my perfect match. This is the story of the 3 worst matches by a single person in history.
Match #1
Benicio

He was first. Rihanna had said she knew him well. He was a friend of her family, had been for many years, and she saw him often. He was a good guy, she said. When he came to pick me up I was a little surprised at how much older he looked than me. Oh well, I looked young, maybe he just looked older, I'm a terrible judge of age. Nope, as it turned out, he was 11 years older than I was. I knew at once it wasn't going to go anywhere, but I figured I may as well not make an awkward situation, so we went on the double date with Rihanna and her boyfriend. We went to the state fair. We rode a few rides, talked, got ice cream and had a lovely time. I was absolutely sure that anyone observing us would think that I was his daughter, not his date, and so I did not take the opportunity to hold his hand when he offered it to me. That was it, kind of. That is, I never saw him again. I never expected there to be anything else. About a month and a half later I was driving home from work when my phone rang. It was a woman on the other line who was crying and I could hardly understand her through her sobs. I told her to calm down and when she was more calm she asked me if I knew Benicio. I said that I had met him and we had gone out once. She started sobbing again and asked me to please tell her the truth, was anything going on between us? I replied that I had not seen or spoken to him since that first day and that I had no intention to. She said then that she was his wife and that they were expecting a child and had two already! I was shocked! She had found my number in his coat pocket and was terribly distraught about it. I reassured her that I was no threat to her at all and we got off the phone. The next time I saw Rihanna I asked her what on Earth she was thinking setting me up on a date with a married man!!! I told her she must be absolutely crazy to do that! She insisted that she had someone better, and I reminded her that I was much younger than he was, and expected her to set me up with someone closer to my age, and who was NOT already married!!! I couldn't believe I needed to specify that! She apologized profusely and about a week later told me about the next match. She was certain I would like this one.
Match #2
Ryan

Well, she was correct when she told me he was a handsome guy, young, and owned his own business. We had planned another double date. Dinner this time. We met in the parking lot of a restaurant in Scottsdale. He was 15 minutes late. He pulled up in a silver, hard-top convertible BMW. He got out and was dressed in a white wife-beater and jeans. He was cute enough, but when he got to us I noticed that he seemed very distracted, but by what I could not tell. He was paying attention, but there was something strange about his eyes and the way they moved and didn't seem to be very focused. When we went in and sat down I noticed that there was a very odd smell about him. It was sweet but pungent, and I'd never smelled it before. As we sat he talked about his dog, and his business, and his car, and whatever else he could think of, and didn't ask me much of anything about myself. I was fine with that, and didn't feel the need to talk about myself, so I listened. For 2 hours. The four of us went to check out his new apartment he had just bought and by then I had resigned myself to two facts that I knew about him. First, he was not interested in me at all. Second, he was very very high. As I drove home a short while later I couldn't help but laugh at the irony of it. Here was this guy who was indeed what I said I wanted, and yet he was even so, absolutely nothing I wanted. The next time I saw Rihanna I asked her if she had taken into consideration that I do not ever swear, I do not ever drink, and I most certainly had not ever been high. What would make her think that Ryan was a good match for me? She agreed that she had not considered that and could see now why I would have no interest in a man like that. It wasn't long though before she had picked out the absolute perfect match.
Match #3
Freddie

It took some pretty serious convincing on Rihanna's part before I was willing to even give her a third chance to find my one and only someone. She told me that Freddie was such a good guy, he had never gotten into trouble, he was handsome, he was the guy her own mother wished she would end up with... and he owned a motorcycle. Ok, the bike did it. I have to say, with the way she talked him up, and how bad she had done before, I had hopes that this one really would be just right. I had detailed what I would not tolerate and he was none of those things. He arrived on his bike, with Rihanna and her boyfriend on another. He took off his helmet and I was satisfied. He introduced himself and seemed to be just a bit shy. I was ok with that, it could even be considered cute. Only a moment later I was on the back of his bike and the four of us were heading 25 minutes up the freeway to a very popular car show where we were all guaranteed to at least have a nice evening looking at beautiful cars. When we arrived he quickly noticed a group of his friends near us and excused himself to greet them. I didn't mind, I was with Rihanna and I didn't want to be an inconvenience to his quick salutations. A moment turned into ten, then twenty, then thirty. Rihanna's boyfriend had joined Freddie and she and I were ready to stop standing around and go look at the cars. So, we did. We had a great time enjoying the many cars we saw. They were stunning and interesting to look at, at the least. We had seen most of them when it started to rain. Being aware of what our hair was going to do in that weather we hurried to find the guys. Rihanna found her boyfriend and she said we ought to go somewhere we could get some dinner. He went to find Freddie and took long enough that Rihanna went after him. When she came back she told me why he was not able to be found. He had gone up the street to a movie, with his friends. So, there I was across town, in the rain, without any way of getting home, and my date who had said 12 words to me was somewhere in the general vicinity at a movie with his friends. A movie that had started not long before and so would be a few hours until it was over. Well, that was it, I'd had enough. I told Rihanna that if she knew a man named Prince Charming who was handsome, rich, kind, exciting, interesting, and had every other quality that may be desired in a man, she was Absolutely Not to mention one word, no, not one breath of a word of him to me. I would never ever endure one more bout of her attempts at matchmaking for the duration of my life. I was livid... in the calmest possible way. So, there have been dates that made me cringe, there have been men that have made me wonder how that even happened, and there have been times that I wonder if all the universe is against me. This though, is the most memorable. How does one person enact a steady stream of terrible dates that way? Ahhhh, I can only laugh at having had the experience, and you can too in having heard of it.

But we didn't mean for That to happen...

This post is about me and my sister... but this is Alias... and I don't have one, so my sister will need one :o) Especially if Mom ever reads it! Let's see, my sister is very pretty, who is her Alias? Well, I think I will call her Evangeline Lilly. Perfect. Now, on with the story. Have you ever read the book 'The Best Christmas Pageant Ever'? The kids who were always climbing on the roof, setting fire to things, and bungee-jumping off the garage door... that was us. Well it was whenever Mom and Dad were gone. None of us could be blamed for starting it all the time, and none of us could be blamed for just going along with it all the time either. This particular day started out innocent enough. It was a bright Saturday morning and there was a yard sale a couple of streets over. We always liked to go see what kind of treasures other people regarded as junk and we found a really good one that day. It was a large, old-looking, long-neck bottle. We imagined that it had been found on a beach with a note in it that was so old that it crumbled to dust when the cork was taken out. It was amazing. We paid the quarter for it gladly, thinking we had just paid it for something that could be worth much more... especially for the imagination we found in it. We took it home and on our way decided that we were going to put another letter in it, something that looked old and mysterious. Well, there was one problem with that, we didn't have any old or mysterious looking letters. No matter, all we needed was regular paper, some carefully written calligraphy, and a lighter. Luckily for us, I had some calligraphy pens and knew how to write it reasonably well. Unluckily, however, was the problem that we had no lighter. That wasn't going to stop us though. We had something just as good... a gas stove! So we set to work making our letter. We thought that to make it seem authentic and mysterious we'd make it from the captain of a great ship. The ship was attacked by pirates and the captain was the sole survivor. He was on a deserted island, and would die shortly if his letter was not quickly responded to. I wrote it all out and it was perfect. Now, what was the name of this brave captain. Something very generic and unknown. That way nobody would know if he really existed. So the letter was signed Captain John Smith. John Smith... Captain John Smith. Clearly, we had not yet discovered Pocahontas. Anyway, it was perfect. We went to the stove, turned it on low, and carefully singed the edges of the letter so it was browned and jagged. It was perfect! Well, until we tried rolling it up and it cracked right in half! Oh no! All that work! No matter, we were children, and we had time! We did it again, another letter, another perfect signature. This time we didn't brown all of it, but when we put the hole in it to make it look tattered, it just looked like a white paper with a hole burnt into it. That wouldn't do. We tried it again, rolling the paper up first, so it wouldn't break when it had been burnt and browned. Any of you who've ever tried that know that the entire thing went up in flames without a chance of saving it. We decided that browned paper just wasn't going to work and what's the next best thing in that situation? A wax stamp to seal it! We had some candles and we found something that would make a cool looking seal. Now we just needed the wax to be melted so we could fashion the perfect stamp. We only had a small amount of wax so we didn't want to use a big pan to melt it in. What was like a pan, but much smaller?  A metal measuring cup! It was just right! We put the candle in it and turned on the stove. We turned it up a little because we didn't want to wait all day for it to melt. We watched it until we were bored and then went to our room to get some candy. We were there long enough to completely forget about the stove. After some time we heard a knock at the door. It was our wonderful friend from across the street, Kristen Dunst. We opened the door and before she said anything she looked past us into the house and her jaw dropped.
"Hey! What's up? ...Want some candy? ...Kristen?"
She pointed toward the kitchen, unable to make a sound. "OH NO!!! THE CANDLE!!!" Evangeline and I went racing into the kitchen where we saw our little 'pan' engulfed in flames that were easily 4 feet high!!!! We knew what to do, we'd put out fires before. We just needed some baking soda! We looked in the cupboard next to the stove and there wasn't any there! There was baking powder though! That was close enough right? We dumped it all over and watched as it lit on fire! Now the flame was higher and thicker with it's new fuel and we panicked! Hurry, what's fool-proof! Suffocate it! Ok so we grabbed the pot we had discarded earlier for its size and put it over the top of the fire. We anxiously waited, not knowing how long it takes to smother a fire. When we were slightly sure it might be out, Evangeline and I carefully lifted the pan and looked to see if it was dark. It was! Oh! We're saved! We triumphantly took the pan off the stove as we simultaneously discovered our folly in doing so. A huge plume of thick black smoke billowed up, covering the wall, the kitchen ceiling, and the kitchen light cover on its way toward it's resting place... the 16 foot vaulted 'popcorn' ceiling of the dining room. "Ohhhh noooooo..." I gasped. "Mom is gonna be home in half an hour! Quick! We have to clean it!" Evangeline said emphatically. Kirsten decided she didn't want to help clean our mess and went home. We got bowls of soapy water and washcloths but couldn't reach very much of the ceiling. We then tried using the mop for the kitchen light. It wasn't working. Ok, maybe we can stall. If she doesn't notice it until night then we can clean it after she's gone to bed. Good idea. Ok, you keep trying and I'll try to get the smoke out of the house. We opened the back door and used a towel to try and fan out the smoke that still obviously lingered in it's nook. The towel wasn't stirring the air much, so we decided to just keep trying as long as we could. Our German Shepherd loved to come inside, and usually jumped at every chance to do so. This time, he stayed away from the door. Evangeline cleaned up the soap bowls and put the mop away. She cleaned as much of the stove as would come clean and then we heard it. The garage door opening. We scrambled to close the door and throw the towel in the laundry room, gave the kitchen one last look, and ran to our room to pretend we had been in there all along. We held our breaths as the moments ticked by. Were we safe? Would she notice? Well, Mom wasn't born yesterday... and she had raised us up from infancy. She knew. She hadn't been in the door even one minute before we heard a very stern mother, "Girls... get in here!" Uh oh. When we got to the kitchen she had set her things down and she was gesturing toward the kitchen light cover. "What happened in here?" Invoking fear of death, while in hindsight it's easy to see that she, seeing that all was really ok, was intending to do that very thing. Our punishment? Well, we spent what seemed like ten hours cleaning and scrubbing what we could reach. We got quite a deserved lecture from Dad when he got home, and we were grounded for the duration of our lives. Luckily, that was lessened as time went on. Where is that bottle now? I still have it. Instead of the old, mysterious letter from the obscure Captain John Smith, it now sits filled halfway with white sand and has roses coming out the top. A gentle reminder to just be smart.

Where have all the Cowboys gone?

I used to know a cowboy. He was everything a cowboy should be. He was from a small town, and he treated people the way they do in small towns... the way they ought to be treated. He would always say hello in such a way that even over the phone you expected him to be tipping his hat to you. He often wore a polished and proper-looking vest with his suits and walked with a funny sort of gait that said he'd spent too much time on a horse. I don't think he really had, but I thought it suited him and thought so anyway. His name was Robert Redford. Now, you who know me are aware, I'm not into blonds, and he is blond. Robert though, had a way about him that made his hair color completely unimportant to me. He had blue eyes and a steady gaze right into my soul. When he locked his eyes on my soul I knew he could read the story of my life, just for looking. He looked into my soul and loved all of it. The true and honest love you can talk about freely. He was a good man, a very good man. Pure Quality. He and I used to sit outside in the grass in the afternoons and read books to each other. I spent many late nights listening to him read to me the adventures of Huckleberry Finn. At first we switched off reading to each other, but he was so good at making the voices for the characters, he made the book just come to life! He used to pick wildflowers from the roadside and present them to me in a big bunch. Sometimes he would present me with a rose from his grandmother's rosebush. He had an innocent and jovial kind of laugh, the kind that makes me smile to think of, and laugh to hear. It made me laugh even when I was trying to pretend to pout. We laughed a lot. He told me stories of the rodeo events he had done, and adventures of his life. Sometimes we'd have adventures of our own. One black night we went rowing in a lake. It was so dark we couldn't see our hands in front of our faces and we had quite an adventure not knowing what sounds we heard and where we were on the lake. We rowed around a while, listening to the water lap, and trying to figure out where we were in relation to the shore. It was fun and we scared ourselves with our imaginations. He loved adventure, and was always full of one kind of fun or other. One day we went out for a horse ride in the mountains. It was a drizzly day, but that didn't matter to either of us. We each took a horse and rode up into the mountains along a small, and well worn trail. He had ridden there many many times and knew the land off the trail as well as he could ever know the trail, so eventually we went down an embankment, across the river and branched out into my unknown. After a while of riding, we stopped for a little bit to enjoy the scenery and the horses seized the opportunity to snack on the grass and wildflowers that covered the ground. We decided to run them a bit. As we did, I pulled my horse alongside his in an attempt to pass him, and in his typically playful fashion he swatted my horse, which sent us lurching ahead and then with an emphatic buck, off I flew right onto the ground! Plop! The ground was wet and soft, so it didn't hurt at all, but I made sure Robert was perfectly aware that had I landed even an inch to my left I would have landed on a rock and possibly broken my tailbone! And how would he have liked that!? He exhibited the proper amount of lighthearted remorse and brought my horse back to me. He really was a lot of fun. The two of us danced a lot together too. He was a good dancer and a patient teacher. We learned to Rumba together, he taught me to waltz, and taught me new swing dances as well. As a cowboy naturally would be, he was well built and very active. As a cowboy naturally would, he was passionate and strong, and his zest for life was insatiable. Robert Redford was also very intelligent, we would often speak for hours about this or that political view, our theories on various social concerns, and health care topics and ideas. He was sure he wanted to be a doctor or a dentist, but had no idea which of the two. He was always funny that way, very ambitious, but undecided. He needed a reason to choose something. He brought me to a world I'd only read about in books. One that I loved to be in. We were very often at his grandmother's house, and at Christmas there was a train that ran around a track under the tree. There always seemed to be some food littered in cheese that he'd just heated up for me. We occasionally listened as his grandmother told stories of how life was for his grandfather, who was a cowboy out on the plains. Herding cattle and roping and all kinds of things. He would say jovially and in a way that made you wonder if he were serious, that he wanted to have a life like that. She would then reply that she wouldn't let him be a plains cowboy, because it was dangerous and he was her boy. Then they'd both laugh and he would sweetly say, "Oh, Grandmother." He was always singing pieces of songs around the house, and often one about how he wished he was a cowboy. Robert Redford was Such a cowboy. He was such the cowboy that even though when I was with him I felt like a priceless jewel, for how he treated me, I often simultaneously knew that I was but a jewel in his collection of jewels in life. Not that his other jewels were other women. He was too... perfect for that sort of trickery. He was though as impossible for me to catch as was the wind. He was determined that I was to yield first. It was just as well... I would not yield first, and would not be caught by his attempts to make me either. I was to him, a wild pony that would not be tamed. This wild pony loved the wind in her hair. What a fun-filled chase for the both of us. I don't know that it would have gone anywhere had we tried it, as much of an adventure as it would have been. He eventually moved away and he would call every now and again to give me a taste of his simple regality. One night he called me to tell me that he was walking through a large park, it was dark except a little light from the moon, and it was perfectly silent as the snow was falling lightly around him. After a bit of conversation about it, and my daydreaming awe and wonder at the perfect picture he'd painted, I asked him why else he called. He replied that was the only reason, just to tell me of the magical moment he was in. He is married now, to a lovely girl who is his obvious match, and since then I've heard from him only once. He called me to thank me for being such a good friend to him. That was precious to me and I knew what he meant by it. See, he knew I loved him as I knew he loved me. It was often said between us, and often followed with "...but I'm not 'in love' with you..." to which we'd both laugh. Those days are gone, and that's ok. I'm so happy for the happiness in his life. I doubt I'll ever see him again, and I wonder if he is the only man like him. And so I ask... are there any other cowboys left in this fast-paced and materialistic world? I've given up on princes with their white stallions and castles in the clouds, but I know that cowboys really do exist... where are they? I know there's got to be even one more out there, somewhere out where the west was won.

$$$ Cars, Men, and Money $$$

So, I did mention that this blog is about girls as well as guys... I just have gobs of stories about guys. This one is about a girl. My friend Bridgette Wilson. Being a close friend, I have tons of stories, but this one is awesome. So, a couple of years in a row she and I went to California for the 4th of July, always intending to see the fireworks over the ocean. Now, she is the kind of girl that used to change her outfit easily 4 times before going even to the grocery store so you can imagine the time it took for her to get ready for social events. That being said, her outfit, or her hair, or her make-up not being just quite right prevented us from seeing the fireworks over the ocean each year we went. The last time, I had told her that seeing them was the point of the trip for me, and she had best be prompt. We missed them. I was not happy to say the least, and she knew it... I made no secret of it. So she said she'd take me out to a really nice dinner to make up for it. Ohhhh Kaaaaaay, that'll have to do. :) So we went to the Saddle Ranch on Sunset Blvd. We chatted up the hot host-guy, asking where there was a club we could go dancing at after dinner. He didn't know, but spread the word and some guy, we'll call him Eminem, came over to invite us out with him. After dinner he came back around and was pretty drunk, but he knew of a place, so we were gonna go... as soon as we freshened up a bit. We went to powder our noses, primped a bit, and went back out to talk to him. What happened next is a direct result of stilettos and an awesome cha-cha skirt (because it's hard to look bad in those). As we were standing there, Bridgette was doing most of the talking, and I was just hangin' back looking at the other people in the restaurant. Out of nowhere our waitress came over, rather firmly grabbed me by the arm, and practically dragged me quickly outside with an urgent "Come here!" She opened the doors, which were no more than long heavy curtains, and pulled me outside. She pointed at the two Lamborghini sitting by the entrance and said "They guys who own these cars want to take you out!" Well! There was no question whether or not I was going... I am my father's daughter... I absolutely was going Somewhere in those cars!!! But... I had to play a little hard to get, so I asked her whose they were. We came inside, and she showed me the table where they sat. I said, "Well, they seem decent, have them come talk to me." Then I went back to Bridgette and told her that we have had a change of plans. She was involved in her conversation with Eminem and paid no attention to me. A moment later James Gandolfini came over and introduced himself to me and after a few moments of chit chat asked me if I would like to join he and his friend for a ride. I said I would, turned, and explained the situation to Bridgette. All of a sudden, Eminem started loudly saying how he could not Believe we were going with him because of his car and we must be so shallow, and he has a Porsche outside. James Gandolfini interrupted him and said that he has 3 at home in the garage. Eminem started getting a little belligerent with his wounded pride and so James, Bridgette, and myself just walked away. Besides, I'm not really a Porsche kind of girl... I'm a Lambo kind of girl! James' friend joined us and we walked outside. Bridgette and the other guy went to his silver Lambo, which he had recently bought from Paramount after using it in one of their movies... it was a total guy movie I've never seen... cars and stolen money, whatev. James' car was absolutely fabulous. It was a bright yellow Murcielago with the doors that go up instead of out. I got in and put on the 5-point harness. Bridgette and the other guy were ahead of us, and pulled out onto Sunset Blvd. A car passed by, and we pulled out too. The excitement of the situation hit as that engine roared, and the two Lamborghini were passing every car on the road as if it were an obstacle course and they were mere cones. We went flying down the street for a while, and chatted casually as we went. He told me that he calls his mother every week, he is a real family guy, and he travels to and from Las Vegas every couple weeks as well as fairly frequently to Arizona too. He was saying this and that, obviously trying to make me think he was a great guy. He asked me if I was interested in moving to Hollywood, and if so, I could stay with him in his brand new mansion just over from the Hollywood sign. I laughed, thinking he couldn't possibly be serious. He said, "Really, I could give you anything you want, money is not an object." We talked a few more minutes and I asked him what he did to get all that money. He told me that he owns a large amount of the Vegas porn industry, and all I could say to that was, "Wow, I guess it really does sell huh?" James' friend eventually had to go, so we came back to Saddle Ranch, where Bridgette got in James' car also, and I sat on her lap. The hot host guy was outside and shook his head like he knew we had no idea the trouble we were getting into, I pretended not to notice his gesture, and we were off! I had told James that we wanted to go dancing, first and foremost that evening, and he had made a few calls to find a place that was open on Monday nights. While waiting to hear back, we took a quick detour to his new mansion. It was nice enough in the pitch black and we didn't even get out of the car. We came back down the hill and drove to the club he had found for us. It looked on the outside like a castle and had a red carpet that stretched out to the street. We pulled up, James revved the engine ostentatiously, and opened the doors. As the doors came up I got out, and then Bridgette got out. We headed into the club with James and when we got inside I saw that there was no dance floor. I turned to James and asked him where we were, and where was the dance floor? He could see that I was less than pleased with my discovery and told me he would find out what the deal was with that place. He asked the man behind the counter who told him that there was no specific dance floor, people just dance wherever. Oh! Well, that's fine then! Bridgette and I never needed a dance floor before, and if it was acceptable to dance anywhere, then we could certainly do that! We went off a little ways and started to dance with each other. James told us he would be back in a minute, and we shrugged and kept dancing. About five minutes later he came back, followed by an entourage of 15-20 people. James motioned for one of them in particular to dance with me... and he was an amazing dancer! He ought to be, he was a dance major at UCLA! He was also fl-aaa-ming gay and I could see why he was chosen to be my partner. All the perks, none of the concern to James, who just sat at a table nearby watching us dance in an almost creepy way. He refused to join us. As I spoke with my dance partner I eventually got it out of him that James (my apparent boyfriend) had paid them to come dance with us! What??? He Paid you to dance with us?? Whatever, it was a lot of fun, so that was fine. Eventually the night got late and our gaggle of gay guys left us with James again. We had a pleasant enough time with him, and went back to get my car. On the way he asked where we were staying and we told him that we were just sleeping on a friend's couch. He said we would not be permitted to stay in such circumstances, and that he would put us up in the penthouse suite down the hall from him at the W. That didn't mean anything to me, but we went by the house to pick up our luggage and say our goodbye's, as we were driving out the next day. The boys were awake before we got in the house, wondering what that beautiful, loud purr was outside the house. They were quite shocked when we told them we were going to stay at the hotel with James, but let us go with only a word of caution. We picked up my car and on the way I told Bridgette that while he was very nice at the moment, he made an extravagant lifestyle out of having zero respect for women, and to keep that in mind. We got to the hotel and went up to our room, which was on a corner of the top floor, so we had an excellent view from all our windows. We came in and gave ourselves a quick tour as James sat down in the middle of the couch with one foot resting on his knee and arms outstretched. When we came back to the main room he saw that we were pleased, and said, "Welllll girls... what do you want to do now?" Bridgette and I just burst into chatter about how we were sooo tired and had suuuch a long day, and really if we were going to get up early and spend breakfast with him we really needed to get to bed and, oh my, the long drive back to Arizona! I had never seen a look of more sincere disbelief and shock, to the point that, had I been but an observer, and not a key player in the situation, I would have laughed aloud! I walked him to the door and as he turned to go, he asked for a hug and whispered in my ear, "Don't worry, I'm not going to mess this up." Ok, g'night! Then Bridgette and I got to play. There were chocolates, expensive water, little stuffed animals to keep, lotions and shampoos, candies, lots of things, and a cd of ambient music which we put in to set the mood for our lavish night. We jumped on the bed, and locked up all of our baubles in the safe, trying all different codes and laughing mostly in tired delirium. When we finally got around to it, we slept very well. In the morning we got up, luxuriated about a while, enjoying ourselves, and got ready to meet James for breakfast. Our friend was riding home with us, so we went pick her up first. I was expecting that we would be taking the Murcielago again, but then he came out with a regular black car that was far less impressive to me. I think he sensed that because he made it a point to tell me that it was the very best money could buy, it had hand carved mahogany trim and the leather seats were hand-stitched and this and that. To hear him tell it, it was pretty much a perfect car in every way, but for me, it just wasn't very interesting compared to the other one. Oh well, I suppose the Lambo wasn't very practical for a day out. We picked up our friend, and on the way James told us oh there's so-and-so's house, and Hef lives right there and he (James) owns a nightclub in Phoenix he named for Christy... whoever that was. Turns out she's a playmate, but he was dropping tons of names I'd never heard, and it all meant nothing to me. Here's the famous 90210 and just last week he was with so and so.... ok... good for you. Anyway, we found ourselves gaping wide-eyed at the stores on Rodeo Drive and came to a stop behind a freshly scorned Ferrari. James was of the opinion that they are far beneath the Lamborghini and how dare they park on the street. I love the look of them, myself. We went to a restaurant sat out on the veranda in the cool air, and had sushi for breakfast. It really was delicious, and I could definitely get used to that. When we finished, James took us to his new mansion so we might behold it's glory in the light. It was still empty but we played a bit in the rooms and the backyard. It was definitely nice, but I got kind of bored of it and was ready to hit the beach one last time before we left. Well, then James proposed the idea of going down to the Chinese Theatre and the Walk of Fame, and since Bridgette had never been, and I had no objections, that's what we did. Apparently, there is a place that looks kinda like a mall where all the awards shows are, and we went there and browsed through shops. As the day progressed so did my impatience for James. He kept telling me he wanted me to move there, and he would give me all I've ever dreamt of, and that I'd have to get a different car because mine was just not good enough. I think that's what really did it. I really liked My Little Pony, and wouldn't have traded her for some silly thing that had a higher price tag! Anyway, we finally parted ways and on the drive back to Arizona he called three times! I ignored them all. The next day, as I was driving to my boyfriend(James Franco)'s house, I decided to call James Gandolfini and end it. I thanked him for a wonderful experience and for the memories he gave me. I told him that I would not be moving there, and that he could not give me what I wanted. He seemed quite flabbergasted and told me that he not only could, but would give me everything money could buy, cars, clothes, jewelry, social rank, he would introduce me to anyone who could make my aspirations reality, anything I wanted and he would even pay for me to move. I had to chuckle, I couldn't help it. I told him that he is incapable of providing me with what I want most in the world and that, again, I would not be seeing him again. He resigned himself to the fact and we said cordial goodbyes. Twenty minutes later, I got a phone call from Bridgette. "You'll never believe who I just got off the phone with! .... James Gandolfini!!!" Apparently, he had promised her all money could buy and everything he had just told me. She thought about it for a few weeks over phone calls and flowers, and then came to the conclusion that doing as he asked would in fact not be in her very best interest long term either. For which I was very glad. It was quite an adventure, but only one of the many that trip!

My New Moon

Have you ever tried to run away from the thing you want more than anything else in the world? The one thing that brings you the most joy, happiness, and love? I know, it makes no sense to do so, but I have done it. I had at my fingertips the one thing, the one person really, that I want more than anyone else in the world. Edward Cullen. I love him and I have loved him for years. He is the most cumulatively wonderful person I have ever known. He is a very good man, with a soft heart, a strong mind, who took so much effort to keep a smile on my face, try to get some wisdom in my head, and succeeded in solidifying joy and love in my heart. He has made me happier than any other person ever could. He is at the very core of my being. My contentment in life has revolved around my feelings for him, for several years now. So how could I leave him? I left because I could envsion myself waiting around forever for him, wistfully, but not unhappily, watching my hopes and dreams die with the passing years. Dreams of life with him. Life, family, and growing old together. In my mind it had been too many years already. The years kept going... my silly 'plan' was not happening. That was such foolish thought. Time. Who cares about time. It means nothing when all is said and done. I will not have missed opportunities and huge regrets unless I try to do things my way. I see that now. I tried to make things happen my way, in my time frame. When that didn't work I tried to push him out, to cover it from my view, to leave no room for thoughts of him and no thought for what I was giving up. I filled my time with other people, Eric Yorkie and Mike Newton, people who said they wanted me. People who said they would make all my dreams come true. I found Jacob Black, my friend and my distraction. Jacob has been an effective distraction, he showed me a different side of life, he did nothing Edward does. He was both attractive and detestable, for that reason. When I left Edward I thought somehow that he would see me with them, living without him, then giving him a reason to act quickly or lose me. Edward asked me if that's what was going on and I denied it both to him and to myself, but in hindsight, I thought he would come for me. Isn't that what happens in books and movies? He didn't. I can't believe I attempted it. I should have known. He knows I will always do as it suits me and if I desired to go, he would not stop me. Now, I think of him often. I listen to the words of the songs he meant for me, and the meaning behind those words. I hear his voice in my mind, encouraging me, congratulating me, and chidding me with every effort, success, and failure. I think of what was there, what I threw away. We had something that happens only once in a lifetime. Just once. We have both been so consumed by the inconvenient details (that appear as a mountain instead of the speck of sand they actually are in the eternal view) to realize that it will be the sorrow at our pride that will keep us up nights for years and years into the future wishing that things, lots of things, had been done differently. I wish now that I could undo what has been done. I wish that things between us were the way they were before everything got so mixed up. I wish I had listened to my heart instead of my foolish head. I wish I hadn't listened to what everyone filled it up with. That's just the trouble though with wishes... they're made of coins dropped in wells, first stars in the night sky, hopes for handsome princes and dreams of castles in the clouds. Even so, I drop coins into fountains, wait for the first star of the evening, and my birthday wish has been the same for 4 years and will be for years to come... just in case there is any truth to it. But I'm terribly afraid that wishing for it just doesn't make it so. I don't know if it even could be undone, if we could start over. I asked him if I could meet him in Rome, under the clock tower... to save us before it was too late. He declined. He is in Rome, but I don't know where the clock tower is, and he does not want me to come. He is done. I left him and he has taken efforts to mend and get on without me. I could not really expect otherwise. What other choice did I leave for him? I find myself grappling for the truth that I know is there, but I see no evidence of it. It's just air. I cannot fathom that it could be true, it cannot be done... it isn't done, it never has been, it should never be. What is meant to be, must be, right? I want him back. I asked him if he could take me back after the cruel pain I inflicted on him. He said that he could not answer, because either answer yeilded unfavorable results. What can I hear now but those words, "I have been thinking about it a lot lately, every day, all day actually, and I don't think it's a good idea." I want him back. I don't care what anybody thinks or what anybody says about time, or what I deserve, or anything really. I was happier and more content with him than I ever was at any time without his presence in my life. Sure, things weren't perfect, there was always something to work on, something that would have been really nice to never have had to deal with, something he could change or I could change. But I was happy with him. Sure, he wasn't as perfect as I initially thought, I am far from the wonderful things he thought of me, but I love his perfect imperfections, the things that added spice to life... even if sometimes that spice was paprika. Well, that's not maybe the best descriptive spice for it. Most times I was the paprika... he was usually more like rosemary; wonderful, and something I'd never experienced before meeting him. If I could tell him something I would say, Edward, I'm so sorry I left you. I'm so sorry. Please... I know it's inconvenient, and very scary for both of us, but I don't want my life to be lived without you. My shortsightedness was foolish, selfish pride. I can't believe I gave you up, and gave up on you, for those things. Would any of you reading this give away what you have, your love, the person who is your world because he or she didn't see things quite the way you did? Especially if he or she was right? Only he and I know the story, the ins and outs of what and why things happened the way they did. Only he and I knew that no matter the good or the bad it looked like on the outside, we are perfect for each other. Almost all of our strengths and weaknesses compliment the other. Only he and I knew that nothing mattered except what our hearts spoke to eachother. We knew that until I chose to disregard it because I thought that he didn't want me as much as Mike and Eric did. Oh how prodigiously wrong I was. A mere six months later I don't speak to either of them. I have been a fool... for nothing. I would give anything to change this, to break this distance.

Welcome to the Circus

About a week or so ago I get this call at work from Javier Bardem. He says, "Hey, are you doing anything next Tuesday?" "Ummmm... no?" "Well, hey do you want to go with me to the Britney Spears concert, I have an extra ticket and since you and I both like the same kind of music I thought I'd see if you want to come!" "Sure! Of course!" Now, I like Britney just fine, I used to watch a lot of ET TV and she was always starring... this is like 5-6 years ago or so when she was breaking up with Justin Timberlake and all that. I can't say I had even considered buying a ticket to the concert, but if it's free... Anyway, so Tuesday came along and we had planned to meet at a gas station then go drop off one of our cars at his brother's house... ok, fine, no prob right? It was rainy that day, when I pulled up next to him and he got out with a bag full of 7-9 different kinds of beverages... Dr. Pepper, Coke, Mtn Dew, a couple different kinds of Powerade, RedBull, water, and whatever else. He said, "I didn't know what you like." "Um, I don't really like soda and I'm kinda picky with Powerade, so I'll just take the water." No no no, it's all for me to keep! Uh, ok then but I really won't drink any of it but the water. Whatever... so we drove... and kept driving. I made 3 phone calls before we got to his brother's house... and once we got there nobody was home. We went in and it wasn't long before he told me he lives there and wants me to drive my car because he is planning on doing a lot of drinking and then I'll have to drive him out here before I go home... wha-huh? I don't think so. I suggest that we drive separately and he can drive himself home, not really understanding that he is wanting to get sloshed. He decided to get a hotel room downtown, fairly nearby... for $150. Whatever, if that's what he wanted to do, I wasn't going to stop him. We went to grab a bite to eat at a little Mexican place and then stopped off to get him some more beer. I told him I was fine with the bag of drinks he had gotten me before so he bought me a cowgirl hat that he thought I might like as he was walking past it. It is is pretty cute. So we drove separately to the hotel where he dropped off his car and invited me up to see the room. Uhhh, we have like 20 minutes before it starts.... that's ok there's still the Pussycat Dolls before... well, I want to see them too... ok well just for a minute then... ok, A minute, one, uno momento... ok...ok. So 5 momentos later we are back in my car and I asked where the arena is. He said, "I dunno girl, I don't know where we are going." I was like... "Excuse me, Javier, are you Seriously out of your Freaking mind? Do you not realize I have never even heard of this place except when it was mentioned on the radio for something, and I have not even the Slightest Inkling of a Clue as to where on Earth we are supposed to be going???" ...As we all know, I did not say that... I very sweetly said, "Call 411 and find out the address then" *blink blink* He does, twice... because he'd had 2 beers by then and couldn't get the directions out correctly. We drove in circles for about 10 minutes, finally got there, and found our seats. Oh, I have to paint a clearer picture of the awkwardness of how we looked. I was in my dark wash designer jeans, and a cute bright top, with my hair straightened and pulled up a little. He was in jeans and a white button-up long sleeved dress-shirt. It was unbuttoned to expose his whole chest, displaying gold and silver chains. He also wore a black blazer and dress shoes. He had gold and silver earrings and one in his eyebrow that drew your attention away from the thick guy-liner under his eyes. Attention was further drawn away by the gold and silver and black bangle bracelets on his wrist... making the short black nails seem to really wrap it all together. Oh, and we can't forget the massively tall glass of beer in each hand. Oh, and he's about 5'3" with 3" hair making him that tall. The Pussycat Dolls still had several songs left when we got them, and it was cool to catch the end of their show. Actually, I don't know if it was the end or not, but we heard 3 or 4 of their songs. We went down to the floor to find a place where we can see. I got a place where I was super close the front. He had those beers so he couldn't squeeze in as well, and was behind me to my left. I knew it would happen, and it did... someone bumped him, and myself and the girl directly in front of him got drenched in beer. Ugh... now I'm wet and stinky and the girl's boyfriend turns to him and said, "Nice one, Dude." Javier Bardem leans over to him and all full of drunk attitude says, "Do you have a problem with that?" Seriously? Did he really just say that???? The guy says "Of course I have a problem with that, you just spilled your beer all over my girl" They discussed it for a few minutes and the guy said, "Man, I know you didn't do it on purpose, just chill" and then was disinterested in it altogether. Javier Bardem leans over to me and says, "Watch out, I'm gonna deck him... and his friend too." He is obviously drunk so I brush it off. Both of the guys were a lot bigger than him... doesn't he realize that? I am into the concert, and not paying any attention until about ten minutes later a girl near me says she is scared because this guy, Javier Bardem, is going to start a fight with her standing next to him! I get over to him and he shoves his jacket and watch into my hands as he starts ceremoniously rolling up his sleeves. I rolled my eyes, and told him not to, just chill out, and that he'll get himself kicked out. After a little reasoning I gave him back his stuff and he disappeared for the duration of the concert. The concert was awesome, Britney came out and the crowd went wild. If you watch the music video for the 'Ringleader' song, her concert uses a ton of those effects. It was very well done. It's funny... she came over to us only ten feet away and she looked just like she did on tv. Like a regular girl... all dressed up. She didn't seem like I thought a seasoned super star, like she is, might. Just a regular girl doing her thing. It kinda made me feel sorry for all the garbage she has had to deal with because of her fame. She did put on quite a show, it was really a lot of fun to watch. She kept the energy up and hit all her marks. Now, in true Britney fashion, it was kind of ridiculous to see that every outfit consisted of less and less material, but y'know, it's Britney, isn't that exactly what we expect? All things said, it was a total blast and I completely enjoyed myself. The finale was spectacular, with a shower of sparkles coming down from the ceiling... like in the video... but in hindsight it wasn't particularly any less spectacular than any of the rest of the show. It was really fun. Then I looked around and Javier Bardem is nowhere to be found. A moment later I saw his text, "I got kicked out, I'm out front." It was raining again and when I eventually found him he was wandering around with this glazed look on his face... he was totally wasted. He pulled out this pink "It's Britney" baby t-shirt that he'd bought while he was waiting for the concert to end. It actually fits me quite well. On the way to the car he told me the story of how he was "wrongfully" kicked out. Apparently some guy was hitting girls and he got blamed for it and being upset that he was wrongfully accused he started mouthing off to security telling him that he's going to beat him and whatnot. Someone came over to witness that he wasn't doing anything wrong, but by then security was upset at his attitude and kicked him out anyway!!!!! The Injustice of it!!! I had to chuckle... inside of course. Then he didn't know how to get back to the hotel. Again, I told him to call the place... he didn't have the number... then call 411. We found it and I thanked him for the ticket and the stellar concert, and sped off as casually as I could muster.

Here are some more pics/video of the concert... from my camera...Gotta love it :o)