Tag: humor

Just For Fun, Lists, Uncategorized

11 Things About You & Me: The Alcoholic’s Edition

Go Jules Go

Thoughtsy, of the very giggle-inducing blog, Thoughts Appear, recently tagged me to answer 11 Questions. As I told her, I’m normally a party-pooper about these kinds of things, but since her answers were so funny, and 11 is my lucky number, it seemed like I should roll with it.

The Rules (which I Will follow…Mostly)

  1. You must post the rules.
  2. Post eleven fun facts about yourself.
  3. Answer the questions the tagger set for you in their post, and then create eleven new questions to ask the people you’ve tagged.
  4. Tag eleven people and link them on your post.
  5. Let them know you’ve tagged them.

Here we go! Oh and I’ve made this a drinking game. Take a shot every time I say the word a…or chipmunk. … A Chipmunk!

11 Fun Facts About Me

  1. I really, really wish I could raise just one eyebrow at a time. I mean, I can’t grow a mustache, so it’s the least my face could do for me.
  2. I panic and pass out when getting blood drawn. (Don’t worry. I still love vampires.)
  3. I think feet are cute; I love me some flip-flops.
  4. I spend a lot of time thinking about what holes in my body bugs crawl into while I’m sleeping.
  5. I climbed the Sydney Harbour Bridge. But I’ve never been to DisneyWorld (or Land).

    Now time for a fun fact from Captain Obvious: I am not afraid of heights.
  6. I was born 2 weeks early, on April 30th, just so I could guarantee that diamond would be my birthstone.
  7. One of my favorite sounds is the sound of a can of soda being opened. It sounds like a contented sigh, like unbuttoning your pants after Thanksgiving dinner. Only fizzier.
  8. I would give up any ability I have for the ability to sing.
  9. I’m really good at shuffling cards.
  10. Ooh. That reminds me. I can never, EVER remember the rules to any card games.
  11. I think anyone who litters should have to face Voldemort. Or a dementor, at least.

My 11 Questions to Answer (From Thoughtsy)

1. Pop-Tarts: frosted or unfrosted?

Really? FROSTED. Strawberry or brown-sugar cinnamon. And did you know they come in two-packs so you can eat one while you toast the other?

2. What age would you want to stay forever?

22, I guess. I was old enough to drink. And done with school. I would have taken advantage of my much smaller rear end. Or, you know, started researching cures for cancer…

3. Do you think I’m pretty? You can use this picture as a reference.

Thoughtsy, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you prettier than when you had red slushie in your face.

4. Where’s Waldo?

As long as he’s not drinking my vodka, I don’t give a scratch where Waldo is.

5. What’s your favorite quote?

It probably goes without saying, but, “Life is uncertain, eat dessert first.”

Even Wikipedia says it tastes like gym socks.

6. Name one food you’ve never tried…and don’t want to.

Durian, that crazy, stinky fruit that’s supposed to be one of the most unpalatable things in the world.

7. Do you believe in the tooth fairy?

If I say yes, is there any money in it for me?

8. If you could change your first name, what would it be?

I’d want to change it to something that would really mess with people. Like DUCK!!! “Mom, have you met my friend, DUCK!!!”

(I didn’t have another blonde moment and steal this joke from some comedian, did I? …Do you ever get those moments? No? Well…hey, now you know TWELVE fun facts about me: I am often paranoid about unwittingly stealing jokes…er…A CHIPMUNK!)

9. If you could be any animal, what would you be?

Allow me to answer this question with a picture (of A CHIPMUNK):

Imma make me some PB&J, ya'll.

10. Who shot the sheriff?

I really think it was Dick Cheney.

11. How much money would you need to quit your job for one year?

Enough to make you want to throw up in your mouth a little. I’m living well beyond my means, and if I must be more clear, know that New Jerseyians pay in annual property tax what many people pay in mortgage for a year. Commence reverse peristalsis barfing.

Now here’s the part where I break bend the rules a little. Instead of naming 11 bloggers who may or may not love me for doing so, I invite anyone who reads this to answer my questions (below) on your blog. (And please let me know if you do!) Or you can answer any of them in the comments section below!

Your 11 Questions to Answer (you know, only if you want to)

  1. What wouldn’t you do for a Klondike bar?
  2. Is it more important for someone to be nice or smart?
  3. Do you think doilies make any occasion a fancy one?
  4. Is it a deal-breaker if someone has bad breath?
  5. What would you be embarrassed for your co-workers to find out about you?
  6. If I told you I could draw your portrait, would you want me to? And would you pay me?
  7. Do you think scorpions are scary? (Because THEY ARE.)

    His name is Zac Efron. He's super nice.
  8. What kind of Chia pet makes the best Chia pet?
  9. Do you think Zac Efron is as nice in real life as he seems?
  10. Would seeing a double rainbow make you cry?
  11. If you haven’t already, will you please enter my guilty pleasure gift basket giveaway?

Photo Credits:

  • #1 (Dorian) – wikipedia.org
  • #2 (Chipmunk) – Solent News & Photo Agency
  • #3 (Chia pet) – liveislandcafe.com
Blonde Moments, Uncategorized

Signs You’re Losing It. Or Blonde.

Go Jules Go
Sigh. Just another guilty pleasure.

I’ve always been a blonde at heart, even after I had to start dying my hair to maintain the golden hue on the outside. I can’t tell left from right, Clueless is my favorite movie, and I truly believe stuffed animals can talk.

The thing is, up until this past week, I considered myself a very high-functioning blonde. I can walk and chew gum at the same time, and even figure out how much to tip my girl crush colorist.

This week, things took a nosedive.

Exhibit A-lzheimer’s

It started on Tuesday, when I wrote out a GoGuiltyPleasures slap bracelet letter for The Mad Queen (I try to make every handwritten letter completely unique, because I can’t remember what I wrote the last time so you are not only getting the hottest fashion accessory, but a little piece of my soul. It’s the least I can do for my Chipmunks), and I felt a strong sense of déjà vu. My jokes about the meaning of life seemed so overdone. I shook off the feeling, and mailed out her letter with a few others.

I'm smiling because I'm confused.

When I got home from the post office, I had an email from The Mad Queen, thanking me for her brand new slap bracelets, which had just arrived. Because I’d already sent them. Four days earlier.

“You will never believe this…” began my immediate response. “Oh god. I should really stop drinking,” I concluded. (The Mad Queen told me to do nothing of the sort, solidifying her chipmunkitude.)

Exhibit B-E More Aware of Obvious Facts

On Wednesday, I  went shopping on my lunch break for a baby shower gift for a co-worker. Her surprise shower was at 2pm, so I set out for one of the many nearby malls (let’s hear it for Jersey!). I almost doubled-back to my desk to check the invite, to see if she was having a boy or a girl. “Screw it,” I decided, since I was only getting a gift card.

For a blonde, I had a surprising amount of difficulty navigating the mall. The mall is our motherland. I couldn’t find the store I was looking for, and wound up at Hallmark instead. They actually sold some baby clothes, including hilarious gender-neutral onesies, so I got one of those (for baby), and some equally funny chocolate bars (for mom). I scooped up a card and gift wrap, feeling smug that I wouldn’t be a part of the ‘group gift’ (er, because I missed the deadline to contribute).

I got back to work and showed our administrative assistant what I’d gotten. “I don’t really know [this person], so I didn’t get her anything,” was her response. We have a very large department, not all located in the same building (or state, for that matter), so this isn’t unusual to hear. I answered, “We went to boot camp together, and have gone to lunch, so I thought I should get her something. She’s really nice.”

I decided to check the online invite before I wrote out the card, so I could congratulate my colleague on her little ‘boy’ or ‘girl.’ I opened the invite and my jaw dropped:

No wonder she looks so thin.

Do you have any memorable blonde moments (or have you forgotten what they were?)?

Everyone Loves a Braggart...Right?, TV Junkie, Uncategorized

Have You Had Your 15 Minutes of Fame Yet?

Go Jules Go

I’m really worried my 15 minutes of fame are up.

Last week, Peppermeister (my husband) pointed out that Comcast cable’s OnDemand feature (where you can watch movies and TV shows, well, on demand) added something called XFINITY Streampix. Under that category, they added the first two seasons of Dawson’s Creek.

Remember Dawson’s Creek? “I don’t wanna wait…”, the Joey-Dawson-Pacey love triangle, the intense vocabulary, and the dad in jail? Right. That’s the one.

When I was 16, I was obsessed with Dawson’s Creek. They filmed it in Wilmington, North Carolina, about a 12-hour drive from where I grew up in northern(ish) New Jersey. Thanks to my habit of trolling America Online chat rooms, I found out how to contact the casting agency and become an extra.

In case you don’t know – anyone can be an extra. I mean, anyone. Even nerdy 16-year-olds with zero acting experience or ability. Especially when it’s a show’s first season and they film in a quiet town in North Carolina (though it’s worth noting that Wilmington is home to Screen Gems Studios, the largest domestic television and movie production facility outside of California).

Babs (my mom), the woman who taught me everything I know about guilty pleasures, agreed to take a 5-day trip down to Wilmington in September of 1998, and I experienced life as an extra for the first time. Though it’s mostly downtime with a bizarre subculture of working ‘background actors,’ we had so much fun that we made the same trip several more times over the next two years. During what should have been my first semester of college, I worked as a full-time extra. (I was going to be a screenwriter. To heck with higher education!)

I don’t own Dawson’s Creek on DVD, so Peppermeister had never seen my network TV debut. For the first time in 10 years, thanks to Comcast, we sat down this weekend and watched my key scenes.

In the one you’re about to see, I had to diligently prepare; I had finally scored a coveted classroom seat, and would be pretending to take a driver’s permit exam. Pacey (Joshua Jackson) was on edge, having just gotten into another argument with his insensitive cop father. He’d already failed this test once. Not to mention his girlfriend, Andie, who was in the nuthouse and still hadn’t called. My character, on the other hand, felt adequately prepared for the exam, but was also preoccupied – I’d recently caught my father cheating on my mother, who certainly didn’t deserve it after 15 years of working the late shift at the Snakeskin diner. I hadn’t told anyone, not even my best friend, Ashley Katsopolis. Can you sense the angst?

Did I just blow your mind? And guess what? After carefully tallying up all of my shining onscreen moments, I still have 14 minutes and 23 seconds of fame left!

Sweet!

Have you had your 15 minutes of fame? Close encounters of the celebrity kind? I can’t wait to hear. I live for this shiz.

***WORDPRESSURE ALERT***

If you have unseen GoGuiltyPleasures slap bracelet pictures kicking around, NOW IS THE TIME to send them in! I’m getting prepped for the next installment, and I’d love to give/your blog/your pictures the loving attention they deserve.

Animals, Just For Fun, Lists

Do You Like Lists? You’ll Love This One.

Go Jules Go

Oh, Chipmunks. I could be coy, but it’s Friday. And my RIDICULOUS mug is on the homepage of WordPress thanks to a series of unsettling fortune cookies.

I'm really glad I didn't wear my wrinkled 'NSync t-shirt for these pictures. ...Remember that t-shirt?

As my idol, Ross Mathews, would say: It’s a good day.

There are a few things kicking around that I really want to share with you, and try as I might, I can’t find a common theme (other than awesomesauciness), so here they are in all their random glory:

Slap bracelets: They're not just for repressed guilty pleasure bloggers anymore! (Thanks to Renee at Life in the Boomer Lane for this pic - click it for her blog link!)

1.) My pal, madtante (over at opinions expressed may not be correct), made two absolutely hilarious videos: This one featuring her TALKING DOG wearing a GoGuiltyPleasures slap bracelet, and this one singing “Hey Jude” for me. How cool is she?!

2.) Paul Johnson over at The Good Greatsby has

The Good Greatsby: Great-looking. Greater taste.

finally recognized my caption writing prowess. If you’re so inclined, please vote for your, ah hem, favorite caption (ends April 15th).

3.) I have some really phat fly dope excellent posts coming to you very soon. I want to tell you more, but where’s the my fun in that? Let’s just say a guest post and a giveaway are involved. You don’t want to miss it.

4.) Thanks for being so nice and attractive. I really do love you.

What’s making you smile today? If you haven’t found anything, perhaps Henri, the existential cat, can help you come to terms with that:

Food, Just For Fun, Uncategorized

Better Living Through Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups

Go Jules Go
"It had to be you..."

For a supposed guilty pleasure blogger, I don’t think I talk nearly enough about one of the most mind-frenchingly awesome pairings the world has ever known. No no, not Brad Pitt and Gwyneth Paltrow Angelina Jolie Jennifer Aniston. I’m talking:

Peanut Butter and Chocolate.

The master of this holy union, the mother of this ship, the queen bee to this hive, is, of course, none other than the:

Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup

Let us have a moment of silence to pay our respects to dairy farmer H.B. Reese (who invented this wonder in 1923), shall we?

…

Finders keepers, bee-atch. Photo credit: forumsextreme.com

…Much obliged. So, if you’re like me, you probably can’t recall the first time you tasted a Reese’s peanut butter cup, but they’ve always been your Numero Uno. Remember Halloween? What would it take to trade one of your Reese’s cups? That’s right. It would take nothing. Because ain’t nobody laying a finger on your Butterfinger Reese’s.

There’s a noticeable passion associated with Reese’s peanut butter cups. We don’t just like them. We love them. We don’t just nibble on a mini one and call it a day. Even those so-called ‘gourmet’ peanut butter cups never seem to stack up to the original.

When bigger is better. So, so, so much better.

Reese’s peanut butter cups are an intrinsic part of American culture. They’ve come up with plenty of variations over the last 20 years, and there’s a cup for what seems like every holiday. (Whether or not you just celebrated Easter, I hope you picked up some Reese’s eggs – it’s the perfect chocolate to peanut butter ratio.) There are t-shirts, magnets, even peanut butter cup-flavored lip balm stamped with the iconic Reese’s logo.

An internet search on Reese’s peanut butter cups brings up the corporate

A little slice of heaven. No. Seriously. This is my heaven. Photo credit: http://blogchef.net.

website, and then hundreds of recipes. To me this is a simple sign that peanut butter and chocolate are welcome in any home, for any occasion. If that Reese’s pie didn’t win over your girlfriend’s parents? Heck, you didn’t want to be a part of that family anyway.

The evolution of the Reese’s peanut butter cup slogan is also indicative of their influence – and I can’t argue with any of them:

1970s-1980s: Two great tastes that taste great together.

1990s: There’s no wrong way to eat a Reese’s.

2000s: Perfect.

Photo credit: pittnews.com

This year Reese’s peanut butter cups were the sponsor of NCAA’s March Madness basketball tournament. They’ve already been an official sponsor of the NCAA for 4 years running. You couldn’t get me to watch 2 minutes of the college basketball that was on a continuous loop in my house last month, but even I noticed the giant Reese’s logo on the court floor (and subsequently started salivating). I wondered how the players kept focus. Or maybe it was the perfect motivator.

Outta my way, fool! Photo Credit (before extremely necessary annotation): http://cdn.gunaxin.com

Do you have a favorite Reese’s memory? A favorite kind of cup? Do you not like Reese’s peanut butter cups? (If not, what’s wrong with you why not?)

P.S. – When I did a Google image search for “reese’s chipmunk” (you never know! That squirrel got its paws on one!), a picture of me under the “How to Succeed In Business Without Really Trying” marquee was the first picture to come up! That has to mean something. Something very, very good.

***TODAY’S SPECIAL***

On this historic day, otherwise known as Wednesday, 19 of your favorite humor bloggers are staging a WordPress coup. We have banded together to address the important topic, Better Living Through Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups.

Yes, you read that right. Your eyes are fine. Well, they may not be fine – I really don’t know. But it does say “19 of your favorite humor bloggers” (or who SHOULD be your favorite bloggers). We are all presenting the same topic, each from his or her particularly unique perspective.

Why this topic? Why now?

Why not?

Click on the bloggers’ links below to gobble up the entire, yummy bag of 19 posts.

Bon Appetite!

The Big Sheep Blog

Childhood Relived

Go Guilty Pleasures

Fifty Four and A Half

Fix It Or Deal

k8edid

Lenore’s Thoughts Exactly

Life In The Boomer Lane

Peg-o-Leg’s Ramblings

Play 101

Refrigerator Magnate

Running From Hell With El

She’s A Maineiac

The Byronic Man

The Good Greatsby

The Monster In Your Closet

The Ramblings

Thoughts Appear’s Blog

Unlikely Explanations

Food, Uncategorized

Misfortune Cookies

Go Jules Go

I’m sure I can’t be the only one this has happened to. Have you ever, belly full of MSG sesame chicken, dumplings and egg rolls, gone to open that waxy looking folded cookie, and then seen…

Avoid compulsively making things worse.

I took that as a clear sign to put the leftovers away before I had to loosen my belt and unzip my pants.

The next fortune lulled me into a false sense of security with its normal, zen-like reassurance:

You are the controller of your destiny.

…Does this mean Second Husbands are a go?

But then this fortune happened:

Silence is a virtual. Especially Dinner time, from telemarketers.

Well, I guess the cookie has a point – silence is virtual (virtually unheard of) when it comes to telemarketers.

I don’t even eat the cookies (you are not a cookie, fortune cookie! For the love of Samoas, go talk to some Girl Scouts!), but at this point I had to keep going. And then it came. The fortune that’s making me lose sleep at night:

You can’t possibly live long enough to make all of them yourself.

All of what?! What am I supposed to be making? Oh god. This has something to do with turning 30 later this month, doesn’t it? I’m supposed to be making something, something only people in their 30s know about. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. What’s going to happen? Will I be allowed to live long enough to try?

Someone help me. Please.

So. Who’s out to get you?

Chipmunks Forever, Uncategorized

My Life Coaches Prep Me for the Big 3-0

Go Jules Go

It’s been a while since I’ve updated you on the whereabouts of my life coaches, Zest and Zeal.

You might recall their infamous post-Christmas shenanigans. I’ve since moved the vodka to a higher shelf in the freezer, and confiscated the handcuffs. Nevertheless, old habits die hard…

In fact, it would appear they’ve even started having secret meetings. I fear a cult is forming, and these young recruits will soon do their bidding.

This can't be good.
Nothing to see here, Jules...
For Champagne's sake, Zest and Zeal, not the children, too!

Despite their unsavory reputation, I find myself turning to Zest and Zeal for advice. You see, something terrible is about to happen. And I can’t stop it. It’s almost as terrible as when someone tells you “you have a pretty face” or when I learned you can’t legally buy Kinder Surprise eggs in the United States.

I’m about to…

…Well, you see…

It’s just that…

Dangnabbit. I’m turning 30 in 3 weeks!!! And I don’t like it one bit. So, with an old, decrepit and heavy heart, I sought out Zest and Zeal last night. The conversation went a little something like this:

Me: Guys, I just don’t know what I’m doing with my life.

Zeal: Here, have another drink.

Me: F&*%. How’d you get my vodka?

Zest (glancing nervously at Zeal): You know, Jules, you’d look really good with green hair.

Me: Ha ha. Thanks for bringing that up. Thanks a lot. You’re supposed to be making me feel better.

Zest: Um…Second Husband? Glee? Champagne? Cats dressed like Easter bunnies? Titanic in 3D?

Me (starting to smile, then frowning): But won’t I be too old for all of that? 30-year-old women aren’t supposed to eat animal crackers just because they come in a cute little box with a string. And I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t have a Jersey Shore wall calendar in the kitchen. And, oh god. I bet the next time I go to the MAC make-up counter they’re going to call me ma’am.

Zeal (hiding the vodka behind his back): Jules. Jules, Jules, Jules… On the road of life, there are many winding, um… roads.

Me: Shut up.

Zeal: I wasn’t finished. (takes deep breath) There are many winding roads, and you need to learn to…um…put on the brakes and stop and smell the…deer…poop.

Me: I hate you.

Zeal: Why don’t we just SHOW you how good life after 30 can be?

Me (narrowing eyes): The last time you said you wanted to show me something, it involved a bb gun and Kate Gosselin wigs.

Zeal: You said you liked it!

Me: I was…just trying to be…polite…

Zeal: Listen. Do you want our help or not?

Zest: Isn’t he as cute as a peanut when he’s frustrated?

Me (muttering): …I’m going to regret this, but… Fine. Show me.

Zest: There's always retail therapy. DSW Shoe Warehouse doesn't care HOW old you are. They'll still take your money. Trust me. I know. I've taken your money there lots of times.
Zeal: You're old enough now that you can drink vast quantities, I mean, higher qualities, without winding up here. And when your friends' kids get married? Oh boy. They'll be disappointed if you don't sidle up to the open bar and then insist on dancing with all their friends.
Zest: I'm PRETTY sure by the time you're 40, polygamous relationships will be legal in New Jersey.
Zeal: That reminds me, I think in another 10 years, you'll be able to grow a lot more than soy beans in this windowsill...
Zest and Zeal: Plenty of things get better with age, Jules. Including you.

Me: Gosh. Thanks, guys. I actually do feel better now. …Zest? Zeal? Where’d you go? Aw, crud. I’m getting too old for this sh*t.

Have you ever gotten any good (or bad) advice about getting older? How do you cope with the aging process?

 

I'm Going To Chop My Ear Off Any Day Now, New Jersey is breathtaking, Uncategorized

Deep Thoughts With GoJulesGo

Go Jules Go
Sometimes...it depends on what the meaning of 'is' is.

I’ve been moved, Chipmunks. Moved to go where this blog has never gone before.

Into the depths of my big, beautiful brain.

Who have we to thank? Well, we could call her Siri, but I prefer Annie Leibovitz, because my new phone takes such beautiful pictures. That, ultimately, is why I got her.

Meet A-Leib.

Come, let us look at all of the profound musings A-Leib has inspired since coming into my life last Friday…

If cars ran on hay, and horses ran on gas, I’d be okay with us running out of gas.

Is there anything hot glue, a ball of twine, and an intense desire to mask inner turmoil with superficial beauty can’t do?

Sometimes, as the sun goes down, I wonder why all them “Twilight” haters hate. The protagonist is the epitome of quiet, selfless inner strength. She’s also a pretty good cook.

Man’s best friend can help us cherish simplicity: fresh air, open fields and sunny skies. And all the deer poop you can eat.

When one looks for signs to lead them down the right path, one often finds pebbles in one’s shoe.

I believe inner peace can be found in the most unexpected places. Like someone else’s backyard. …Or jail.

Happy Thursday! What’s been on your dead sexy mind lately?

P.S. – In case you were wondering, they’ve put in new trailheads on our street, and the trails lead to some pretty spectacular views. Yeah, man! This is Jersey!

Everyone Loves a Braggart...Right?, Music, Uncategorized

How I Almost Walked the Red Carpet Last Week

Go Jules Go

Whoever said bloggers were lame, basement-dwellers who lack the talent of ‘real’ writers has never met the awesome array of bloggers I have via WordPress. I’m continually amazed by the gifts and goodness they possess.

Deb Bryan (The Monster In Your Closet) and Chris (From the Bungalow) just shaved their heads for St. Baldrick’s Foundation, The Byronic Man has made commercials, Clay Morgan (EduClaytion) and Leanne Shirtliffe (Ironic Mom) have book deals, and Renee Fisher (Life in the Boomer Lane) and Tyler Tarver have published books, just to name a few.

So I guess in some ways I wasn’t surprised to receive this text from JM Randolph (Accidental Stepmom) last Thursday morning:

Totally last minute. CC can’t come to my opening nite show. I only got 1 ticket- do you want it? 6:45 curtain.

The show JM was referring to was Jesus Christ Superstar, which opened on Broadway March 22nd. Thanks to JM’s gig doing sound for theater, I just scored an invite to opening night – on Broadway! I responded accordingly:

Hi JM! I just saw this! Is it too late to say hell yes!?

And so it was. We agreed to meet at 6:30 in front of the theater. I went to Kohl’s on my lunch break and picked up two new blazers because, of course, nothing in my closet was right. I settled on all black: black stretch pants, black calf-high boots, a black high-necked shirt with a sheer overlay on front, and a black blazer with similar sheer trim along the bottom.

This one. Photo credit: http://resources.shopstyle.com

I lightened things up with my wedding-day earrings, which are getting a lot of play lately:

Bling-tastic

I boarded the 4:23 NJ Transit train, excited as could be. JM and I met for the first time in January, before I saw another Broadway show, How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying. I was really looking forward to seeing her again. From reading JM’s blog, it’s obvious she’s smart, witty and completely badass. I expected to meet a tough, somewhat no-nonsense chick. Which intimidated the hell out of me. Oh, how wrong I was! JM is warm, welcoming and lovely. And gorgeous! Not I’m going to wear leather pants to kick your butt gorgeous, but Princess Bride gorgeous.

Our first meeting in January.

It was only on the train, nearly to Penn Station, that I saw an earlier text from JM (I’d been having battery issues with my phone all day):

oh and dress semi-fab. you will need a pic of yourself on the red carpet.

Red carpet?! Moi?! My honest-to-goodness first thought was: I think my stretch pants are see-through! I was willing to accept that any pictures of me would be less than flattering, but transparent pants was where I drew the line. It was akin to stepping out of a limo with no underwear.

We've all seen it happen. Photo credit: fashion.about.com

I quickly texted JM:

Oh holy shoot. For some reason I just saw your text about the red carpet. I did buy a new cute blazer on my lunch break BC that’s how I roll LOL but I don’t think it qualifies as fab?!?!?!?!

JM assured me it was no big deal, and that at least one person would be in sweatpants. I couldn’t tell if I’d just gotten myself out of it.

It was a gorgeous day for March, 75 degrees and sunny, and Manhattan was absolutely packed. It took me 40 minutes to work my way through the throngs of people to Neil Simon Theatre (I always prefer to walk to the theater district versus taking the subway or a cab from Penn Station, even though it’s at least a mile). I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen Times Square so jammed up.

There was also a huge crowd in front of the theater, though I couldn’t see who was on the red carpet. Several skeletal women passed by me in bright, silk dresses; it was clear they’d spent the entire day getting ready. My heart was in my throat at the prospect of sharing any kind of floor space with Broadway elite. I didn’t know the names of these producers and directors. I wouldn’t know Edward Albee if I tripped over him (just to make this reference I had to Google ‘living playwrights’).

When JM met me outside and handed me a ticket, I followed her lead. Okay, good, we weren’t headed towards the flash bulbs and cheers. Instead, we walked in through a side door.  Hallelujah, I was spared! Under different circumstances, I would have been disappointed. But not that night. Not in see-through pants.

JM showed me to her motherboard, which was on a platform at the back of the orchestra section. She introduced me to some of her colleagues and it was clear they all adored her (and vice versa). Being part of the in crowd really is all it’s cracked up to be, Chipmunks.

Darn phone. This is a picture of a picture. Yes. I have a new phone now.

I told JM I was learning about the inner workings of Broadway from one of my new favorite shows, Smash. She said they do actually do workshops like the one currently depicted on the show, confirming my suspicion that I can learn everything I need to know from TV. She paused.

“You do have crazy eyes.”

I laughed. I recently wrote a post about my crazy eyes; in it I described my giant pupils. Being in a dark theater surely made them noteworthy.

“I know,” I replied. “Everyone thinks I’m high all the time. …I wish.”

“Do they even need to dilate your pupils when you go to the eye doctor?” she asked with a good-natured smile.

Can I have some of your toe nail clippings for my collection?

Because the show was soon starting, I bid a temporary goodbye to JM and found my seat in the center of the balcony section. I smiled to myself when I saw the skinny-minnie-silk-dress girls in seats right by me. Ah, opening night on Broadway, what a great equalizer you are! I felt smug until I realized my see-through-panted butt could still barely fit in the wee Broadway seats (despite, and let me pause to brag for the first time here, a significant weight loss in the past year).

The audience was extremely enthusiastic, and while I’d never seen the play before, I was blown away by the production value and, most of all, the voices of the cast. (I bet some of that can be attributed to JM!) Andrew Lloyd Webber came out during the curtain call, and the standing ovation was the longest I’d ever taken part in.

I didn’t linger because I had to catch my train home, but hoped I managed to convey my gratitude and enthusiasm to JM before dashing. (In the end, I missed my connecting train -for the first time in my life- because I was too busy texting about my fun night out!)

Hey, we can still pretend I shared the spotlight with the likes of Megan Hilty (from Smash) and Andrew Lloyd Webber:

Hey, wait a second, Lisa Lampanelli…

…That dress looks familiar…

My surprise bridal shower, May 2008.

I’m so ahead of my time*! Maybe see-through pants will be in four years from now! Damn. I guess I should have walked that carpet.

*I bought this dress for $25 from Target 4 years ago. I cannot believe it’s on the red carpet right now.

Photo credit (marquis and red carpet pictures): broadwayworld.com.

I'm Going To Chop My Ear Off Any Day Now, Uncategorized

My Surprise Collector’s Item – It’s Terrifying!

Go Jules Go

Whilst preparing an exciting upcoming post (oooh wouldn’t you like to know?), I stumbled across a favorite book on Amazon:

The Pop-up Book of Phobias

It's what bacon is to breakfast, what Neil Patrick Harris is to TV, and what you need in your library.

I own this book. I love this book. My first job was at an independent book store, and when I got wind of this bad boy in 1999, I had to have it. I may have even paid full price: $24.95.

Now?

New copies on Amazon start at $143.36. Hot diggity! While this surprised me, it’s probably only because I never thought about it. Of course this book is costly, if it’s in short supply. Sometimes the world makes sense.

It’s the best coffee table book ever made. Just look:

Get that drill out of my face, you g.d. sadist! Dentophobia.

 

I saw Buried. No thank you. Not even with you, Ryan Reynolds. Necrophobia.
I'm not really afraid of heights, but even my knees are wobbling with this one. Acrophobia.
Er, um, the three agencies of government I would like to eliminate are, ahhhh, um...STOP STARING AT ME LIKE THAT!!! Glossophobia.
Ah, everyone's favorite fear. Claustrophobia.

If you’re not busy calling your therapist right now, you can see even more heart-stopping pop-ups by getting this book used for a good price! Don’t make me say “I told you so” in another 13 years.

Do you have any irrational fears? (Reactions to my last post suggest a strong aversion to sloths.)

Here's mine. Creepy crawlies. Eeeeesh.

 Photo credit disclaimer: While I took these photos, I do not own the content of this book, which was created and written by Gary Greenberg, illustrated by Balvis Rubess, pop-ups by Matthew Reinhart, published by Rob Weisback Books, and produced by Melcher Media, Inc.