Five years

You guys, a grievous error has been made, and it must be rectified.

I missed the 5 year anniversary of this blog. On January 4, 2005 I started Okay Seriously. It was started as a way to help me pass the time during the long, depressing days after my boyfriend left. It has since become a place for me to make fun of celebrities, recap episodes of "Lost", tell stories that amuse me, embarass my friends and family, be a bad role model to kids and make connections with people I don't know because they care enough to be here and read my crap and not judge me (or at least judge me silently). Some of you have been with me for all 5 years (you know who you are, my special friends-looking forward to our 2010 meeting of the minds summit).

My blog was none too happy that I missed the blogiversary. I looked it up and for the 5th anniversary you are supposed to give something made of wood. I started out by trying to give my blog my coffee table:

















As you can see, that only started the waterworks. "You don't really care about me!" "You can't give me furniture you already own!" And on and on.

So then I thought, "Okay here's my 5 wood."

















The tears turned to anger. At this point I kind of threw my hands up in frustration. Words were exchanged. It got a little heated:

















Luckily I was able to defuse the situation by promising to post more often. Also I gave it $50 to go to the mall. It loves The Buckle.















In honor of my 5 year anniversary, how about some little known truths?

One thing that happened in my life that I never wrote about: 3 and a half years ago my dad was diagnosed with prostate cancer. At his request, I didn't blog about it while it was all happening. Yeah. I just blew your mind, didn't I? He is better now. You're never really cured of cancer once you get it, but he is officially considered a cancer survivor. Someday I'll write about it I'm sure, but it was always too big to put in to words for me. I'm not a true writer (see exhibit A: blog), and it was an important event and will continue to be important in the lives of me and my entire family and it's hard for me to write about it with any eloquence. Also my brain leads me to pee pee jokes because that's how I cope with things and that is inappropriate. But awesome sidenote: my dad still plays the cancer card sometimes. Like we'll be fighting over the last cookie and he'll say, "Well, I have cancer." I love you, Daddy. Sorry for all the jokes about my boobs over the past 5 years.

One thing I wrote about that never actually happened: I did not hook up with this guy in Miami:




















I'm sorry I lied to make myself look cool.

Aside from my maturity level, a lot has changed over the past 5 years. For example, my MS Paint skills. Also just look at how I've changed physically during that time:






I can't believe how dumb I used to look.

I actually thought about changing my blog template to be more "hip" in honor of the blogiversary, but let's be honest: I am way too lazy to do that. I mean we are talking about a girl who owns 3 pairs of slip on tennis shoes just so she can leave the house without bending over to tie her shoes. It's lucky I even have the energy to log on and type.

I just want to express my sincerest, from-the-heart thanks to everyone who has spent any time here on this blog. Having this outlet has meant so much to me over the years. The fact that people read this and sometimes even enjoy it baffles me, flatters me and feeds my already over-inflated ego, making me unbearable to the people who have to deal with me in person. So thank you. I love you all. We should all get together and drink so much vodka that we are too embarassed to look each other in the eyes the next morning.

Love,
Sarah
BFF
95 Tops
K.I.T.

P.S. Yes that's my Christmas tree in the background of the pictures up there. You are fine.

P.P.S. Um...Lost premiere in 6 days.

P.P.P.S. I love that the "face of my blog" in these pictures has a picture of a clay elephant I made at age 33. That is so fitting.

Still making my parents proud

My friend Anita gave birth to a little girl this weekend. In comparison, this is what I accomplished this weekend:





































My friend Paul's 11 year old son, Andy, made the clown face. Right after this, Andy told me I was a child at heart. Approximately one minute later he told me I was old.

Incidentally, when we went to visit Anita in the hospital, we had to get temporary badges made with our pictures on them. There was an old lady in front of us, and I was confused about what was going on. I accidentally got in her picture with her and held up the whole process. When it was my turn, I went up to get my badge done and the security guard called me "Group Picture". I kind of love that guy.

Lying Awake

Things to do when you have insomnia:

- Kakuro

- Depress yourself by reading about Haiti and daydream about having enough money to donate to them every single day.

- Watch "Romy and Michele's High School Reunion". Seriously remember this movie? My general thoughts on it are as follows: WTF? Lisa Kudrow is gorgeous in it, though.

- Send bitter thoughts out in to the universe because you're so damn tired, and you have so much to do tomorrow.

- Listen to your ipod. Try to remember when you put The Commodores on there. Immediately realize it was an awesome decision.

- Download ring tones

- Eat pickles

- Read a Better Homes and Garden from November

- Admit to the Internet that you have a subscription for Better Homes and Garden. For over 3 years.

- Finally respond to getting tagged by the wonderful Abigail forever ago:

Ten* Things I Should Like but Don’t (*and by ten I mean four):

1. Mylie Cyrus - I obviously love everything preteen. I mean this we know. But for some reason, Mylie just bothers the shit out of me. I freely admit "Party in the USA" is a catchy song. But Christ that girl annoys me. I don't know if it's her man voice, the fact that she's literally in my face every second of every day, that she sings like she has a cold or what, but I just can't stand her. Is something wrong with me?

2. Chicken pot pie - Chicken, carrots, peas, etc. All good, right? But put it in pie form, and I will throw it directly in your face. Well, not YOUR face. But you know, that guy's face. When I was a little kid, I watched my mom making chicken pot pie for dinner. The entire time, I begged her to make me something else. I mean every 5 minutes I was telling her that me eating that would result in disastrous consequences. It was like talking to a wall. Finally she served the meal. I looked at her with desperation and warning in my eyes, and I said in the most serious voice I could muster, "Mom, if you make me eat this, I will throw up." Her response was a motherly, "Eat your dinner, Sarah." So I did as I was told. Five minutes into the meal, I calmly got up, walked over to the sink and threw up. I never had to eat chicken pot pie again.

3. Pineapple Express - I should totally love this movie. I love the people in it. It looks like it should be hilarious. I rented it. And turned it off halfway through. A couple months later, I watched the second half. I literally didn't laugh once. Not once! It actually made me nervous that my sense of humor was broken. But then I watched Flight of the Conchords and literally howled with laughter so I don't think that's it. Someone please explain this to me.

4. Justin Timberlake - Whoa, whoa, whoa-easy, ladies. And my friend Paul. Let me explain. I like Justin Timberlake. He's talented in so many ways. I think he's a great entertainer. But he is not cute. I couldn't find him less attractive. I added him to this list of things I should like because I think I might be the only person on Earth who feels this way about him so I'm just assuming something is wrong with me.

Ugh. Somebody knock me out please.

I didnt think it was physically possible, but this both sucks and blows

Okay I just need to get a couple things off my chest:

Fuck Jay Leno

Fuck NBC

Yeah. I dropped the f-bombs. I cannot put into words how unbelievably angry I am for what they did to Conan. 7 months? They only gave him 7 months? Jay Leno's ratings bit the big one when he took over "The Tonight Show", but they gave him a couple years to settle in and he is terrible! Literally terrible in every way. It saddens me that people I'm related to actually think he's entertaining. Also, I totally used to think he was a good guy. Unfunny and outdated, but a good guy. Now it turns out he's also a first rate jerk. For years I waited patiently for Conan to finally get his turn. And they gave him 7 months. Disgusting.

Please another station hire him!! I need him on my television!!

Conan, I pledged my eternal devotion to you back in the 90's when you first took over "Late Night". You're the most talented comedian on television today, and I love you and will follow you wherever you go! I mean you ended your press release with "I am truly sorry about my hair; it’s always been that way." You are amazing. I love you!

Okay sorry that had to be said. The rage has been building up inside of me. Oh by the way the title of my post is a quote by Bart Simpson, and it 100% applies to this situation.

My favorite conversations from when we went to visit my grandparents on Saturday:

1. Scene: The family is discussing the Tiger Woods saga mostly because my grandma hates Tiger Woods. Her glee at his predicament is palpable. And hilarious.

Family member: Well he's kind of disappeared. No one's really seen him since all these girls started coming out of the woodwork.
My near-90 year old grandpa: He's just busy lining up a new batch.


2. McDonald's bathroom. My mom has just come out of the stall and is washing her hands. The girl from the other stall who we don't know is also washing her hands. My mom is going to order our food while I go to the bathroom. The girl in the bathroom does not know that.

My mom, immediately after I go into the stall and sit down on the toilet: Sarah...number 2?
Me, quickly: No mustard or onions.
[pause]
Me: Mom, don't yell out number 2 in the bathroom.
Mom and stranger girl immediately bust out into sidesplitting laughter, and stranger girl expresses relief that we were talking about food.


3. Scene: Sitting in my grandparents' living room discussing our various travel horror stories. We begin discussing how my Grandpa gets pulled aside and searched every single time he goes through the security line at the airport.

My mom: Well Dad gets searched every time he goes through security. Last time he got searched going there and back. Because he looks so dangerous.
My grandma: Yes. On the way home they made him take his clothes off. Remember that, dear? You had to go into a room.
My uncle: Yeah that's right-they strip searched you!
Me, in disbelief: WHAT! They strip searched you, Grandpa!?
My almost 90 year old grandpa: They just wanted to see my manly body.

I love my family.

How in the world is it 2010?

Well how's it hanging, y'all? Sorry I have been MIA this week, but it is like migraine city up in here. Every day around the same time, I am sidelined by massive pain. Therefore most of my evenings have been spent massaging my head while sitting in the dark and then going to bed by 9. Thus no bloggy time.

How were everyone's holidays? Mine were wonderful-as usual. I was showered with gifts including "Flight of the Conchords" season 2 which I began watching the other day and can I just say this: You need to drop everything and watch this show. I cannot believe how funny those guys are, and I am so heartbroken that this was the last season. Major, major sad face.

Also here are the names of two cookbooks my mom gave me: The "I Don't Know How to Cook" Book and Leaving Home Cookbook and Survival Guide. Yeah. I left home 11 years ago. Awesome.

Our trip to Florida was wonderful. The weather was great, and we got to go to a couple Disney parks, and we saw a little kid wearing a homemade Pringles yarmulke. The trip was relatively uneventful in the best possible way. We just relaxed and hung out and laughed a lot. It was awesome. Sadly the tan I got had disappeared by the time I deboarded the plane in Cleveland so I don't think anyone believes we were actually in Florida. Just wait till I show them the picture of the Pringles yarmulke. Obvious proof.

My favorite exchange from the whole trip:

Dad: "What was that drink called again? Spank your monkey?"
Mom: "It wasn't called that, disgusting person."

Our New Year's Eve was totally crazy. We went to dinner at my parents' friends' house then went back to our resort and played games. My parents went to bed right after midnight. Whoa-can you handle that? All I know is I kissed so many dudes. And by that I mean I drank at least 2 bottles of champagne by myself while in my pajamas.

My favorite story from the whole week doesn't even involve me. I wasn't there. My parents had different flights than us. On the way there, they had a layover in Atlanta. The layover was only 50 minutes long, and my mom was really worried they wouldn't make it to the other gate in time. She called the airline, and the lady said, "Oh no problem-we'll get a cart for you to take you to your gate in Atlanta. It will be faster than walking."

This solution satisfied my mom, and I was like, "Awesome-I always wonder how they decide who gets to ride on those golf carts. I'm jealous." When my parents landed in Atlanta they got off the plane, and when they walked off the plane to go to their cart, they found themselves face to face with 2 men...and 2 wheelchairs. Yes. Instead of a golf cart, the lady had sent them 2 wheelchairs.

My parents were immediately like, "Oh there's been a mistake. We clearly don't need wheelchairs. We just need a cart to get to our gate on time." But the gentlemen explained that, a) carts cannot be taken from one concourse to another and b) while they were sorry for the mix up, once a wheelchair has been assigned to you, you must be picked up and dropped off at your next destination. Apparently, they couldn't even call it in and say it wasn't necessary. It's their job, and they must complete it. Just like Frodo and the Ring. No matter what, he had to destroy it. Hobbit analogy. Nerd alert.

So my able-bodied parents were pushed through the entire Atlanta airport in wheelchairs, hanging their head in embarassment and giggling the entire time. My greatest regret is not being there to see that.

Tell me about your holidays. Don't leave out the parts about your grandma getting drunk on egg nog or your high school aged cousin text-fighting with her boyfriend all night.

We need a director. You need involvement.

This is an email I just sent to my team:

To: OKS' team
From: OKS
Subject: Today's quitting time

Hi, team! Workin' hard or hardly workin'? <-- That is exactly how my dad would start this email.

Anyway, [Team Lead] confirmed that we are free to leave at 1:30 today so please log off or take off at that time. Just a reminder-I will be out of the office all next week. I'll have my Blackberry so you can reach me in an emergency.

Everyone please have fun, safe and happy holidays! See you next year! <-- That is exactly how my mom would end this email.

This is also exactly why I will never move up the corporate ladder.

I am currently working at home because two lights on my dashboard came on last night. My car's a Christmas miracle! Oh...no wait...it's a piece of shit! Sorry-got my sayings mixed up there.

Anyway, the good part about my car being horrible is that I am now working from home. Which means I am watching "Charlie Brown Christmas" while I work. And also blogging. Is there no end to how valuable I am to this company?

I just wanted to hop on here and make sure I bitch about my car. Oh no-I mean I wanted to make sure I wish you all a Merry Christmas. For real I hope it's your best one yet, and that you take some time to be thankful for the things you have. Like a working car. Am I putting enough negative energy out there on Christmas Eve yet? Seriously thanks to all of you who read this. You complete me.

One more thing...on Saturday the Okay Seriously family is going to Florida for a week. Please take a moment to eat it, bitches (Merry Christmas!). I don't know if I'll be able to post while there, but I'll definitely be Twittering. If you have done the math, that means I will be in Florida over New Year's. I will miss my friends greatly, but the thought of not having to make New Year's plans is making me giddy. New Year's sucks.

Recap:
My car = suck
Working from home = rule
Christmas = rule
New Year's = suck
Florida = rule
You guys = rule

Rule wins!

Merry, merry Christmas, everybody! Be safe, be grateful, be overeating, be pantsless (indoors only), be drunk and most of all be happy! For those of you that don't celebrate Christmas, be all of those things, too, and Merry December 25th!

Never gonna give you up

- I am obsessed with "The Sing Off". I swear if Nota doesn't win, I will freak the eff out. They are just heads and shoulders above the rest talent-wise. Also I love me the cutie lead singer. Is he adorable or what. Also I fast forward every time the girl from the Pussycat Dolls speaks. Nothing she says is useful or helpful or doesn't make my brain bleed.

- Am I supposed to know who Ke$ha is? She's in my face on iTunes, but I don't understand her or her $.

- I wrapped my friend Woody's Christmas presents for him tonight. I did it for him last year, too. He hates wrapping. What is that about? Sidenote wtf: he has no scissors. At all. Anyway, in return, this is what he gave me:

I am fine with this trade. When he called me to come over he said, "I have the Rolling Stone with the vampire on the front for you." And I said, "He's a werewolf." And he was like, "Yeah I don't care. At all. Make him stop looking at me."

- This is so not going to mean anything to anyone, but I am going to tell you anyway because it is a personal high for me. My friend John is hilarious. Over the past, like, 2 years, he has Rickrolled me dozens of times. Sometimes in video, mostly over the phone when he's in his car. He'll call me, I'll answer, he'll say he has something to tell me and BAM! Rickrolled. I fall for it every time. Mostly because he calls me lots of times in between for real stuff. He lures me into a false sense of safety and friendship all the while biding his time until it's time to strike. It is annoying. And brilliant. I have never, ever Rickrolled him. Ever. I just don't possess the talent necessary to trick him into it like that. I'm way too obvious, and John knows me far too well and can always sniff out stuff like that. Like I said-annoying.

For John and his wife's birthday last month, I made them a ton of CDs. Six of them were mixes. These mixes presented me with my opportunity-really my only opportunity ever. I lovingly put together these mixes and at the end of some of them, I put bonus tracks. Like I literally marked it BONUS TRACK as a little surprise for him. They were fun songs I knew he wouldn't have. For example, "Let's Go To the Mall" by Robin Sparkles (what's up, HIMYM fans!). Awesome. I knew John would listen to the CDs in order so I put a bunch of awesome bonus tracks on some of the first 5 mixes. The bonus track on cd 6? Rick Astley. My hope was that he would expect another fun cool song like the others and not see it coming.

I did not feel confident with this plan at all. I figured I had a 30% chance of it going right. But I decided that I had given it my best shot, and there was nothing else I could do. It's been a month, and he never said anything about it so I assumed my plan had failed.

Until I received a call last night on my way home from work.

John: "I'm on CD 6, and it's awesome. I was so excited for the bonus track. Like literally I was giddy with excitement. It started, and I was like, "What is this? Is this Tarzan Boy? AH GODDAMMIT!!" I just want to say I love you and hate you for this."

You guys, for real? Best. Rickroll. Ever. He walked right into my trap exactly how I had planned it! God he was so mad. Our unedited text conversation that followed:

John, 6:22pm: for 1.5 seconds i was like tarzan boy weird bonus song but awesome. then blammo worst rickroll ever.

Sarah, 6:23pm: Im keeping this text 4ever

John, 6:27pm: this must be how lincoln felt after years of effing with john wilkes booth when booth finally got him back

Sarah, 6:34pm: Its exactly the same as that

Sarah, 7:20pm: I am still glowing over my genius

John, 7:47pm: retaliation will need to be aged like a fine wine

Sarah, 7:48pm: Its like the slap bet-i dont know when its coming

John, 7:52pm: i am going to have a clock counting down. you will know the exact date and time. i will still get you

Sarah, 8:15pm: Until that day i will revel in the glory of THIS day

And I am totally still reveling. I am aware that in all likelihood this will be the one and only time I will ever get him. If that is true, I will not be disappointed. This is enough to get me through...forever pretty much. As he said himself, "This is one for the ages." Indeed it is. Today I'm Queen of the Rickroll.

I'm #1! (and #2)

Please add "plumber" to the list of roles I fill in this world. This is in addition to mediocre writer, professional couch potato, perpetually injured/sick clumsy moron, winner of all movie trivia games given at any party thrown by my friends, borderline alcoholic and Minesweeper expert.

Last week, my toilet stopped flushing. Because the handle broke.



















See that white stick laying on the bottom of the tank? That's supposed to be attached to the white plastic thingie up on the side of the tank. Sorry if this is hard to understand-I am using professional plumber language.

Well, I needed a new toilet handle. So like plumbers do, I went to Lowe's. I picked up a handle that looked like it would work, and then had this conversation with an employee who was walking by:

Me: Excuse me-will this toilet handle work on any toilet?

Lowe's guy: Let me take a look. No. See this says it's for American Standard toilets.

Me: silently blink at LG (Lowe's Guy)
Me: Is that a brand of toilet or something?

LG: Yes. American Standard.

Me: Ohhhh! I thought that meant like it's an American standard. Like I have a standard toilet, made in America.

LG: stares at me for a second.
LG: bursts into laughter.
LG: No. American Standard is a brand of toilet. We have universal fit handles over there. Just make sure it says "Universal fit".

Okay so mental note for my new career as a plumber: Learn the different brands of toilets.

Despite my first misstep, please take a look at my handiwork:































Isn't it beautiful? So what if took me 3 times longer than the Internet told me it would take? And so what if I accidentally flushed my toilet 12 times while attempting to fix it? And so what if sometimes the handle sticks almost straight up instead of going to the side like in that picture? I fixed my own toilet kind of in a way. I am a grown up!!

God you have no idea how badly I want to draw an upper decker on those pictures.

Double 3

Well, gang, it happened. I turned 33 despite my best efforts to avoid it. I spent the days leading up to my birthday trying to forget the fast rate at which my eggs are dying. Thankfully my friends and family reminded me once again why I am the luckiest person alive.

Friday we went to Steph's for happy hour. She has recently decided to embrace Christmas, and she wanted to show us her decorations. And give us wine. It just so happens, I enjoy both of those things. Then she, Meg and I went to see New Moon again. Well, again for Meg and me. First time for Steph. She spent the entire time either lusting after Rob Pattinson or admonishing Meg and I for lusting after Taylor Lautner because it's "illegal". Whatever-Steph thinks she knows everything about the law since she went to law school. By the way, I was totally not sober for the movie. Awesome. How my being drunk made the movie different: my thoughts about Taylor Lautner were more inappropriate and, frankly, more surprising. Oh also I forgot that I threw a couple of Irish Cream Hershey's Kisses into my pocket before we left Steph's place so by the time the movie was over and I stuck my hand in my pocket, they were a nice melted pool of sticky goo. Whoops.

Saturday morning, Diane, Drew and I did a 5k. Doesn't that sound like an awesome birthday activity? No. It does not. I was totally tricked into running this thing because they gave us jingle bells for our tennis shoes. I mean, come on. Jingle bells! So Drew and Diane agreed to run it with me. As you know, I am the slowest and crabbiest runner in existence. But I had 2 goals for myself: 1. Run at least half the race. 2. Beat my normal 5k time. Oh wait-3. Not die.

I am happy to say I accomplished all three goals. And I did it without any whining. And by that I mean that literally every single thing my sister said to me, I told her to shut up. That was my only response. I essentially blamed her for how hard the running was. That is pretty reasonable. Fortunately, my sister knows me and knows I didn't really want her to shut up. And I mean let's be honest-even if I had actually wanted her to shut up, she wouldn't have. They teach you that when you become a little sister.

Immediately following the race, I retired from outdoor running in the winter. Because I'll tell you what. It was fucking cold. And it fucking hurt. Yeah. F-bombs. That's for real. Oh and a small sidenote about the race: there was a dude dressed in tiiiight running pants just standing on the corner watching everyone run. He was not running himself even though he was dressed like he was. Diane and I called him Package. If it's not clear why, let me just reiterate: his pants were very, very...very, very tight.

Saturday night, my friends absolutely refused to let my birthday go by without celebrating so they took me out. So many people came out, and I just want to say thank you so much to everyone. I am so lucky to have you in my life. I've said it before but seriously I have the best friends.

While at the bar, a bus load of Santas came in. I'm not joking. There were like 30 people dressed up as Santa, and they arrived on a bus-just like the real Santa. They were on a pub crawl. Also like the real Santa. One of them, while talking to Renee and I, found out Renee was pregnant. Then he asked me if I was. Mildly insulted, I said no. Then he said, "Do you want to be? RIGHT!? I'm Santa-I give presents!" then he high-fived me and said something about bare-backing. I was scared. Oh also all the Santas gave us candy canes which I thoroughly enjoyed. If there is one thing I love, it's taking candy from strangers who threatened to get me pregnant 5 minutes prior.

Sunday my family came over and took me out to PF Chang's where I ate my weight in honey chicken and fried rice. Then they showered me with too many presents. On Monday I came in to work and John had decorated my cube with Christmas lights and garland. See how it is hard to be depressed about aging when the people in my life are doing things like that?

Please look at this:








Is this not amazing!? Be cuter.















Fact: I LOVE Grover. Fact: He is the best character on Sesame Street. Fact: Saturday Diane, Drew and I went into a toy store, and I saw this and freaked out but didn't have my wallet so couldn't buy it. Fact: Diane was so heartbroken by my sad face after realizing I didn't have my wallet that she went back and bought this for me. Fact: I am 32-excuse me-33 and I love Sesame Street, the Muppets and stuffed animals. Fact: I am single.

I will leave you with this picture of the balloon bracelet that a guy behind the counter of Chik-Fil-A at the mall made me on Monday:
















Someone at Sephora asked me if it was a watch. For real.

Clarification

Okay so my sister wants me to clarify that I'm not actually a lesbian. She thinks it sounded like I came out as a lesbian to the entire Internet and not just to my family. So, while I think being a lesbian would be a perfectly lovely lifestyle, I am not actually one. Especially not after this. (How many times can I post that link until you revolt?)

We were talking about Oregon during dinner. I don't know why. I've never even been there. Anyway my dad was talking about how great their health care system is there. And I commented that maybe I should move there given how sick I've been the past couple of months. Only before I could say my comment, my dad interjected a second observation about Oregon, but my brain was already sending the message to my mouth to form words out loud. So this is what happened:

Dad: Oregon has a great health care system.
Slight pause.
Dad: Also they were one of the first states to allow gay marriage.
Me: I should move there.
My sister bursts out laughing. Grandma looks confused.

I didn't bother to address it. I just giggled and ate more noodles. God I love noodles.

On Saturday I fell off a step ladder while putting up my Christmas lights. I won't tell you how close I came to breaking my neck and/or cracking my head open on my coffee table because my mom reads this, and I don't want to her to come over any time I have to use the step ladder. But suffice it to say, it was so close I almost threw up thinking about how close it was. Luckily all I did was hurt my wrist, scrape up my ankles, mess up my toe, hurt my left ass cheek and destroy my back. A half hour later I ran my arm into my bicycle handle. I'm moving into a bouncy house next week.

Some thoughts on current entertainment issues:

- Avatar is totally in my face. And I really don't get it. They have a hot guy starring in it, but they turn him into a weird looking blue thing for the whole movie. How am I supposed to lust over that? Boo.

- Tiger is at once disgusting and a huge mega dork. I really have never gotten this guy's appeal-beyond his wallet I guess. Which, in this sad day and age, is enough for a lot of women. I'm not kidding it makes me sad. Ugh. Also seriously he's a F*CKING DORK. And not the good adorable kind.

- Who watched Glee last night? "Jump" was amazing. I love you, Glee!

- My sister and Drew went to Star Wars: In Concert tonight. Drew was geeked out beyond belief. Hopefully they met a man for me.