REVELATIONS

I recently came out of the closet, to myself and friends, that I am a Lionel Ritchie fan. Laugh if you must. I would have scoffed at the suggesion a week ago but after a recent listen to the outstanding compact disk titled "Truly: The Love Songs" it was discovered that I transpose into that sappy, wacky girl I usually mock. Who knew I had it in me! Once, Twice, Three Times a Lady = magic. I wonder if there is a Spanish version "Uno, Dos, Tres Tiempo Senora." Lionel had the ladies melting with his words and criminal good looks.

I like to think Lionel is channeling an inviting "come hither" with his devilish charm and overpowering sex appeal. You know what else? I bet he got there on his own without direction from the photographer on set that day. Lionel, you nailed it buddy.



















One night while in bed (prior to falling asleep pervs) Matt and I chatted up a storm discussing our shared fondness for Lionel. We considered the classic "Say You Say Me" for our wedding song, since we are nagged regularly about the necessity of finding "our song", but something really weird happens mid-song with that tune. Lionel takes us on an adventure from heart felt melody turned 80's boombox jam beginning with "So you think you know the answers - oh no". What does one do on the dance floor during this completely unfitting diddy? I envision a floor full of bewildered folks looking around the room for suggestions. Maybe this is the ideal time to throw the bouquet. Warning: do it quickly because within minutes Lionel will take us back down for one more round of chorus.

For two ugly people John and Kate have 8 good looking kiddos. Science - it's a funny thing.

I just saw a photo of the Jonas Brothers in US Weekly and it is the first photo I have seen of the young lads. I have not been living under a rock, I just don't care. No offense teeny boopers but they truly are not good looking dudes. In fact, one looks like he's a 45 year old Art History teacher from my old high school. America what is wrong with you?

I am starting to believe the monstrous "bump" on my forehead is permanent. This thing has been an annoyance in my life for a week. I've had to implement bandaids and hats into my daily wardrobe. Matt calls it my horn and we're patiently waiting to see if another grows adjacent to my current malady. If I were to make a severe turn without warning I could easily poke someone's eye out. It hurts like the dickens. Should it scare me that webmd resulted with zero potential explanations?

Phone sex. That's what it's all about! Seriously, what is it all about? A friend of mine revealed to me last night that she regularly partakes in such heinous acts with her college "F" buddy. Well that's just great. I couldn't wash the image of her lying on the bed blackberry in one hand - other hand - sick. Maybe I am being closed minded but how does one get into such a thing? I am all about experimenting, and I like to think I am a pretty sexual girl, but this no way jose. I'm hanging up the phone. I am the kind of girl that fakes it hoping to god no one can hear me "yeah, yeah that feels great where is your hand" while catching a late night rerun of a Real World Road Rules The Duel 2 episode. I'm not a talker. I hate it when asked "talk dirty to me baby" because I don't know what to say that won't sound like something straight out of a 1978 porn flick. Can't we just enjoy the moment without allowing a series of weird questions to ruin the fun? In reality with the phone sex it's all about creative dialogue. I simply am not that descriptive. Plus, I hate to say the word vagina and I detest it's sister name so how do we beat around that bush - no pun intended. I mean, on the surface the concept is appealing and all but getting down to the nitty gritty - no thank you. The kicker: my friend lives with her parents at present time. "DAAAD, I'M ON THE PHONE!"

Got some time on your hands? During my down time I enjoy shooting the breeze with automated customer service reps. It's like chating with a real person but don't be fooled. As paypal's "Sarah" indicates "Even though I’d like to be a real person, I’m not." Astonishing! The following is an exerpt of my web communication with Sarah this morning [cut and pasted straight from the paypal website]:

Sarah - PayPal :
Hello, I’m Sarah and I’m here to answer your questions about PayPal. Even though I’d like to be a real person, I’m not. I’m programmed to answer your questions. How can I help you?
You :
how are you?
Sarah - PayPal :
I'm doing OK. You?
You :
Not great
Sarah - PayPal :
I'm sorry. I hope you feel better.How can I help you?
You :
I need to know what the weather is going to be like around 5 pm this evening. Have a big outing planned.
Sarah - PayPal :
Right. Please let me know if you have any other questions.
You :
Weather?
Sarah - PayPal :
From my office I can see a bit of blue sky with a few clouds. How can I help you?
You: great! where are you located?
Sarah - Paypal: I have a cozy little server right here at Paypal.

Just when I thought Sarah would disappoint she came through like a chimp - or is that a champ? I wanted to continue the playful banter, seeing all sorts of avenues to explore here, but envisioned some jackass secret paypal officer knocking on my door throwing a transcript of my chat with Sarah in my face, reading me my rights having committed some sort of cyber law, to be televised at my humiliating expense on Dateline later.

Last night after Bunko - eh hem - let me reiterate late last night after Bunko I wrote a country song - in my head - and it was beautiful. I can't remember it today. It was one of those painful, hard to listen to songs that you play over and over again when dabbling with masochistic behavior following a break-up or pity party of one. There were lyrics and a melody. For the record, I am not a country music fan which makes the song that more phenomenal. Speaking of that last word, I knew a guy that pronounced "ph" words with the p sound. I often wondered why he didn't pick a synonym to "penomenal" because it just sounded retarted. It was one of his favorite words.

I have no plans this weekend and I'm lovin' it. Gonna miss puppethead.

xoxo -
J