Oh Britney

My DVR is set to record all of the old Saturday Night Lives that E! runs on a regular basis. Most of these SNL's are selected from seasons that had some classic episodes.

One of the episodes my precious DVR recorded is hosted and musically guested by Britney Spears. It's from 2002 and it's absolutely hilarious. Sure, the cast at that time has something to do with it, but Britney looks amazing. It's like some weird time capsule...it feels like 20 years ago. XTina was still...XTina. 9/11 was still fresh and Jimmy Fallon was (questionably) funny.

What happened?

I'm starting to believe that her manager DID drug her. I mean...she fell a looong way from the top. Remember when she and JT were dating? I had totally forgotten that happened! Let's try to forget that Justin still had his weird two-toned fro.

Sure, her back up singers are exponentially better than she is but...look at her bod! Look at her hair! Look at her skin! She looks so fucking good!

In case you didn't know, Brit Brit and I are very close in age.

So that got me thinking...

I feel very different from how I think I felt 6 years ago, but how accurate is that? I'm a bit older, definitely more bitter and certainly jaded. But am I really different?

I know I feel better about myself. Maybe more confident? And lately I've started to feel that growing out my hair was a very good decision. I think I even look different...maybe even better? Could I be improving with age?

Doesn't it seem like an eternity ago? Sigh. Maybe I'm the only one that feels this way.

But Britney! Sweetie...what happened?

Family fun and so much more

Today sucked. The rest of this week will suck. Oh yeah, I'm trying to think positive.

So yesterday was Easter and I went to my sister's. I hadn't seen her or the kids since Christmas, so it was long overdue. I hate that her kids are like little extended speakers of what she's thinking. For example: My teenaged neice said this to me when I walked in the door "Hey stranger, we haven't seen you in a while. Where have you been?" It took quite a bit of effort on my part NOT to say "Well gee, no one invited me out here and I live an hour and a half away now and I have my own life sooooo....what do you have to say about THAT you little BRAT?"

All of a sudden, the responsibility of being an Aunt it kind of too much for me. Why do I need to feel guilty? It's not like I don't buy them presents on their birthdays. And plus, my sister and brother in law have all of them so busy that my only option lately for visiting is to attend an indoor soccer game (UGH) or take the chance of running into my mother (double UGH)...or both of those things. I'm just so sick of being made to feel like I'm the bad guy.

Now what you've all been waiting for:
So Friday night's date with GRT was pretty much a bust. We met a little early for drinks, he downed two Jack and Coke's and was quickly drunk, because has the stature of a...gay russian teen. His voice was still cracking all over the place (nerves, puberty, whatever) and he kept looking at me like I was crazy, when I said the most inane things. Or at least to me they were inane. Then we went to dinner, which was kind of awkward because he's a soft talker and it was a loud (and small) Italian restaurant. I gave up asking him to repeat himself after a while and just started nodding and talking more. We started to get into talking about movies and actors and stuff, which was cool and kept my interest, but it REALLY bothered me that he was only eating the inside of the crusty bread they brought us to munch on. He wasn't eating the crust, which is the best fucking part. I asked if his Mom used to cut off the edges of his peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for him and he looked at me, dumbfounded and said "No...why do you ask?" Then I looked from him to the bread carcasses and back again, trying to give him a hint and he still wasn't tuning in. Painful.

Then it was 9ish and he asked if I wanted to have another drink at his place. I was all, yeah whatever...mostly because I was interested in seeing his apartment, because he lives IN the North End and I had never been into an apartment in the North End...and I had a feeling it would be a pretty sweet place. I was right. Other than that, you may think that accepting an invitation back to his place was leading him on. I disagree.

Then it got really awkward. We were sitting on his couch and I was drinking beer out of a can (classy) and feeling not so fresh, mostly because I had come straight from work and it's 80 degrees in my office, which turns me into a big sweat monster as the day wears on because I...you know, actually move around. Then he does the ole yawn and stretch move to put his arm over me (like we are at the drive in and it's 1955) and uses his hand to turn my head towards him. Then he lays one on me and I almost throw up in my mouth. Why was I so revolted? I'm not sure. It might have had something to do with the fact that he was about the same size as my 11 year old nephew. (Ok, as crazy as this is, GRT is actually calling me AS I WRITE THIS). So, I needed to think fast. I didn't want to completely crush this kid, because he was polite and nice, and he did refuse any assistance in paying for dinner. I came up with a "You know, I should go. I'm really stressed out about work and I'm not completely here, it's not fair to you blah blah blah." Then the creepy shit starts to happen. He starts telling me about how lonely he is because he's been on a boat for four months (he's in one of the armed ocean forces) and he starts begging me to stay and make out with him. He literally said "You should stay and make out with me. It's ok. Please?!"

I left SO fast, it isn't even funny. I didn't even know where I was going or how to get back to the T (not so familiar with North End) but I didn't care. I just needed to get out.

Upon figuring out where I was (who knows how), I felt kind of guilty and dirty and just...bad. I was so sad for him, and sad for myself. Because this is just one of many of these terrible first dates.

Ugh.

Match-tastic

I did end up calling Babyface the other night. He sounds just like he looks. I could swear his voice was cracking a little. I think I make him nervous. Sigh.

Today is dragging, and I'm sure will continue to drag. I'm going from here to the date, which reminds me that I need to figure out how the hell to get there.

I went shopping last night and made some cute purchases. I was so sick of my clothes, and I needed some new pieces.

I'm so tired, I just want to sleep. I got about 3 hours of sleep the other night. Don't get me wrong, it was worth it (in a PG kind of way) but I'm not used it, and I'm getting old, so it kicked my ass. It was with another Match guy, the one that I told you I can't really talk about. But I like him...kind of a lot.

Uh oh.

babyface

I have a date on Friday with a 25 year old...who looks 16. Rosy cheeks and everything. My baby brother says he looks like a GRT (gay russian teen)...I couldn't agree more (while laughing and clutching my stomach). Lovely former roommate says he is adorable.

We have only emailed, which makes me nervous. I have his number though and I am calling him tonight to make sure his voice doesn't crack.

Now, I know what you're thinking...25?!?!? And I know. Here's the thing...he's won me over with his witty, well written emails. I'm a sucker for complete sentences and punctuation! Oh, and the fact that he did something a bit more creative than just call me "cutie" about 8 times.

I will let you know the outcome, of course.

P.S. Idol SUCKED ASS last night. Don't ever EVER do the same theme two weeks in a row again, Simon!

The Arrogant Doogie Howser, not so much MD

Oh boy. I'm not entirely sure where I should start. At the beginning I suppose.

I met a guy through Match before I went on vacation. We'll call him Doogie for simplicity sake. He's originally from the Midwest and a first year surgical resident. We had a very awkward phone conversation about three days before I left for Florida and I thought I would never hear from him again. When my plane touched down in West Palm and I turned my phone back on, it rang...and it was him. I didn't recognize the number (non-programming of new guy rule) but answered only because I thought by some random chance my grandparents would be calling my cell phone (this would never happen) and also because I suffer from morbid curiosity.

Anywho...I didn't know who it was and even when he said his name, I still wasn't sure. Then the bells went off and I mumbled something about being on a plane and that I would call him back later. Because I was on vacation and wanted to keep a distance, I texted him...and it began. We texted back and forth for a bit and I told him I would let him know when I got back to Mass. He tried to make plans with me during the week. I turned him down the first time and blew him off the second. I lied about having to stay late at work, he was sympathetic (remember, doctor in training), which made him kind of endearing. So I told him how sorry I was and asked him about his weekend plans, wondering (hoping) if he would be working. We decide on Saturday lunch, nice and non-threatening. He meets me close to my place and from the get go I find him exhausting. He got up on his soapbox and he wouldn't get off. I won't bore you with the details, but let's just say he made some sweeping generalizations about me after knowing me for about 20 minutes. And any of you reading this who know me know that this pissed me off. Any of you reading this will also know that I'm a sucker for a cute doctor to be, even if he is an arrogant prick.

After lunch (he chewed with his mouth open!), he asked if I wanted to go to a movie and I told me I needed to get home to...meet the cable guy (I know, horrible). Then he asked me what I was doing "later." I made a split second decision and told him I didn't have plans (I didn't) and if he goes out, I'll be around, let me know.

I honestly didn't think I would hear from him. I thought at this point, I had perhaps annoyed him as much as he annoyed me. But he called at around 6. We met up at 8 for drinks in a hole in the wall Jazz bar with a Ms. Pac Man game (awesome). Fast forward two hours and three beers later (after two glasses of wine at his apartment before the bar) and we are getting kicked out of the bar because he has pissed me off to the point where I have started to YELL. Now, I don't yell. It takes quite a bit to get to yell. That's how pissed off he made me. I was full of a feeling that can only be described as red, red rage. My mind was so full of hops and barley and rage!

I wanted to punch him in the face and make out with him, hard core, at the same time.

I skipped the punching in the face part.

Fast forward to 4 hours later when he walked me to my car and I wished he would just not talk ever EVER again. Now, you can use your imagination about what happened in between but I was a good girl.

I TOLD YOU he was cute!

To his credit (the only thing): He did pay for all of the above activities (I offered of course).

I hope he doesn't call. Not ever.

holy shit

So I'm watching an episode of SNL from two years ago. Natalie Portman is the host and she does a skit where she's this hardcore rapper. It's the funniest thing I've seen in a while. Definitely look for it on YouTube.

In other news, I went out on a date last night. Ugh. I'll tell you about it later maybe, when I have more energy.

what have I done

Signing back up for Match may have been a not so good idea. And on top of it all, I gave one of the guys I've been chatting with the address to the blog. What was I thinking? All it means is that I can't write about HIM, that is if he even reads it...I have no idea if he will or won't.

First off, we have THE ARCHITECT. Off the bat, I should have known this would be a dead end. We had been emailing back and forth, he seemed witty and intelligent, if not a bit of a towny from a suburb of Boston. I gave him my number and he called last night. I let it go to voice mail first. I hate being surprised by unknown numbers. He voice mail was mildly amusing, so I called him back. I've been so tired this week, I need to get a blood test and have my sugar checked. ANYWAY...I started to ask him about his apartment and if he lives alone, etc. etc. and all of a sudden he was like "Are you a Matthew McCounaghey fan?" and I think to myself...I don't like where this is going. He answered a question with a question which means...he lives with his parents. So while I'm thinking this, he's leading me with this questioning about MM, about a movie he did with SJP and I'm like..."Yeah. 'Failure to Launch' and...you live with your parents, don't you?" and instead of just admitting it, he keeps askng me questions about the movie. I told him he wasted 5 minutes of my life, that I found the whole interchange aggrevating and that he was trying my patience. Then I changed the subject.

The more I think about this interchange and about his Boston suburb accent (which he flat out refuses he has), the more I want to go on a date with him for the simple joy of being able to kick him in the nuts.

Blake? Is that you?

I'm catching up on my DVR. I'm watching The Idol results show from last week while the beginning of the first top 12 show tapes. LOVE IT!

I already know who made it because I read the newspaper cover to cover everyday while in Florida. Ah the retired life!

Anywho...I just fast forwarded through Blake Lewis performing, listening in some key parts. I remember him being a much better singer. Oh nooo! Terrible, Blake! I don't even know you!

I love the torture that goes on during the announcing of the top 12. I agree with it, for the most part. Isn't that always the way?

Kady Malloy knew it was coming. I do think she's good but I feel like she never really pulled it out.

Paula should never wear fedoras.

Luke, be gone.

Oh how I love the retrospectives! But I wish we didn't need to sit through the painful vote off performances again. Oh WAIT. I don't!!!

I'm upset that cute little Ah'sia (or however you spell it) didn't make it. She's a firecracker. And her Dad died!! Kristy just wants to be Carrie Underwood. And she won't be.

Is Danny picking his fingers on national television?? Wow lame. Now he has to sing Tainted Love! Oh hilarious. He'll be fine. Oh dear he is REALLY crying. And little Ram Ram is hysterical?!

Ok, I need to watch the "Live" show. So exciting!!

Like Whoa

Oh man. I'm back from vacation.

The work piled up all around me while I was gone. I'm in the process of digging out, became acutely overwhelmed and thought I would write a blog entry instead.

Vacation was wonderful and relaxing. The weather was great. My grandmother didn't stop feeing me the entire time I was there and I logged about 12 hours of sleep a day (not to mention about 5 pounds). I didn't go near a computer, or a television. I read my book. I took in some "Men over 55" Softball. I did some bird watching and some garage saling...not to mention a large dose of early bird specials.

Because I've never had a vacation without some sort of incident, my neck froze up on Day Three. This hasn't happened in about two years. I'm thinking I finally relaxed and it screamed out in protest "What happened to the tension we are used to?!?!" Instead of going to the emergency room for pain killers, my step mother and grandmother went next door to the retired nurse neighbor and "borrowed" some of her stock. Fantastic. That got me through a few days. My neck and shoulder are really stiff, and the worst in the mornings. I may see if I can get in early with the good ole neck doc.

I know I won't elicit any sympathy, but I did get a nasty sunburn on my chest. On Sunday, the last full day we had, I just laid out and burned for about an hour. That did the trick. It's been a while since I've experienced a sunburn with full on winter gear over it (plus back pack). Ouch.

Alright, back to it. Oof.

Boys blah!

First of all, minus David Cook's hair, I want to have sex with him. Tonight sealed the deal. Uhm yeah.

Sorry. Eh ehm.

Of course I'm referring to The Idol.

Chekieze. NO. Stop. Go.

Danny Noriega. Stop being so gay.

Luke. Terrible. Who sings a Wham! song? WHO? I'll tell you who...rhymes with..."a fucking retard."

Side note: The guy in this show New Amsterdam? Holy hottness. YUMMY!

Anyway...my man Jason with the dreads was very good, cutie David was just ok this week, creepy David, unfortunately, did really well and the Aussie was good. His sex appeal has really downgraded for me. It's the teeth.

I'll be on vacation for a few days. Miss me!

Vacation time to get away

I'm giddy.

I wasn't that pumped about going to Florida with my parents until I woke up this morning. It was the driving force that got me out of bed. That, and my hair has been looking pretty cute the last couple of days.

Last night I received a very early gift: the knife set I ordered with my credit card points. It wasn't supposed to arrive for 4-6 weeks, and there it was after less than a week of being ordered. I unpacked it right away, wooden block and all. It looks fantastic on my counter and boy oh boy can those Chicago Cutlery knives CUT.

Did I ever think a set of knives would make me so excited? No, not ever.

But being domestic is grand.

Icky Monday

Oh I hate today.

My receptionist called out AGAIN and I have to play at the front desk. It's not so much I mind being at the front desk but what I DO mind is that she had great references when I hired her but has since turned into an unreliable victim. So now I have to find a replacement but the main problem with THAT is trying to find what the owners actually want in terms of skill level. But then they don't to pay for someone high level...etc. etc. What a saga.

Let today also suck because I received a "no thanks, not interested" email from a guy who isn't even that cute. Booooo.

And my pants are tight. It could be the macaroni and cheese with texas toast and chicken fingers I ate last night. Maybe.

Lazy Sunday

I woke up at 830 this morning, ate cereal and went back to bed for three hours. It totally ruled.

Whenever I sleep really late, I always wake up feeling guilty. But I had a great therapy session yesterday and my recent laziness was reinforced as being a GOOD thing. I don't always have to be "on" and responsible and my own voice of reason. I'm allowed to do the occasional stupid thing, sleep until noon and not get out of my pajamas until 4pm. IT'S OK! Hooray!

So anyway, I didn't wake up guilty this morning. I woke up really excited about going to Florida and getting a sunburn. I woke up and moved directly to another horizontal position on my parent's old couch. I woke up and took a fantastically deep breath.

Confession time: I'm back on Match. I think we all knew it would only be a matter of time since I gave in...again. The person that seems most surprised that it happened so soon is me. I'm just too determined to find love and it will happen when it's meant to happen, whether I'm ready or not. And while I don't feel entirely ready (errr...I think?), screw it. I just want to start having fun again. And let's face it...Match has shown me some good times. Teehee.

Contestant number one we'll call "The Chemist." He's an older gentleman (soon to be 39) who is really cute in his pictures and pretty personable in email but completely awkward and goofy (and not in a good way) on the phone. He also kept interrupting me when I was talking, which I hate. And he's owned a house for three years and doesn't have any furniture in it. Huh? I told him straight out that I thought that was weird. I told him he could call me again but I hope he doesn't.

Spring is (hopefully) just around the corner, and I feel the black cloud that's been over my head for the last few months starting to lift. A few days of sunshine shouldn't hurt. Let's hope the weather down in the F-L is decent.