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I’m 32 and single. Which makes zero sense because I’m quite fabulous. Sometimes a giant pain in the ass, but I’m convinced it’s really quite adorable. So why am I single you ask? GOOD QUESTION! I’d like to think it has nothing to do with my issues and is really a matter of not meeting the right guy. Although, I finally figured out whom the “right guy” is! You’re dying to know, are you?

Well, there is a couple that would fit the bill. I know, I know. The more the merrier, right? But for this post there is one in particular—one perfect man for me. The only problem is he doesn’t actually exist outside of television–The “Gilmore Girls” to be specific. Yes, I’m fully aware of my unhealthy obsession with this show. Fuck off. I don’t care one little bit!

Luke Danes is my dream man!

I love him soooooo much I could totally overlook the flannel and backwards baseball cap, because he cooks AND makes a killer cup coffee. Enough said.

Isn’t he like totally dreamy and purrrrr-fect for me? Now that my future TV husband is decided I should quit putting of my school research paper by watching re-runs on the family channel and get to work.

With the weather as close to summer as I’ve felt in a very long time, I thought there was no better time to remind you of the dangers that come along with the season. No, not sunburns. Worse. Far worse. Open car windows are far more dangerous than skin cancer for a smart ass like me.

This afternoon while driving to the airport to pick Ben up I forgot my windows were open. I was impatiently waiting for a man and his toddler son to cross the street so I could make a right turn, when I mistakenly yelled, “Pick the kid up and carry him asshole. Let’s go already!” Of course my windows were open and they heard me.  I felt horrible.

Don’t let this happen to you people! Roll up your car window before uttering bitchy comments. I’d like to say I learned my lesson, but chances are this will happen half a dozen more times before summer ends.

Fist and foremost my mother and father for not being wealthy enough to make me a trust fund brat. I think this is very selfish of them.

Libby because reading her post about swimsuit season while eating chocolate covered espresso beans made me feel guilty enough to put them away. If I knew her I’d call her and fire her.

The Kid because he doesn’t share my excitement for “The Hills” rendering him completely worthless to me.

Rlo because he doesn’t have time for BFF night until next Tuesday, which is completely unacceptable. Who else am I going to boss around? Ben is out of town.

My brother, Matt, because he lives in Provo and I want to see his kids tonight, but don’t want to drive that far.

Bishop Deal because he had every opportunity to hook me up with Jermaine from “Flight of the Conchords” and didn’t. I think it’s because he’s Mormon and didn’t want to be responsible for the humping that would most definitely ensue.

I hate driving. HATE IT! However, driving behind this car yesterday made being stuck in the car worth it.

Hopefully you can see the Jesus doll in the back window. And not just any Jesus but Crucifiction Jesus. I guess it’s never too early to teach that baby on board that Jesus died for your sins, and damn it you will learn to appreciate this fact, OR ELSE!

Last night The Yuppie invited me over and prepared a Sunday dinner that put Arlo to shame. Pasta with a vodka red sauce, salad with lime ginger dressing, and a chocolate cake baked with wine. Brilliant move on his part combining my two favorite items: chocolate and wine. Though, he didn’t need to add liquor to the food to get me drunk–I would have done that on my own willingly.

When I mentioned the cake to Arlo he didn’t understand what the big deal was. “Sarah, when have we ever baked chocolate without wine?” “WINE IN THE CAKE, not with the cake!” “Oh, I didn’t think it mattered, it all ends up in the same place anyway.”

It’s so cute when The Yuppie doesn’t think he’s a yuppie at all, but each time I spend time at his house I find another reason why his moniker is just so fitting. Last night I found he prepared dinner with recipes collected from The New York Times. If that’s not yuppie-esque, I don’t know what is.

Since it’s the sabbath I decided to drink my caffeine cold to honor my Mormon upbringing. That’s mostly a lie, I was just too lazy to make coffee.I grabbed a can of Diet Dr Pepper out of the fridge, a handful of Girl Scout Cookies and settled on the couch to catch up on some TV. I opened the can, lifted it to my lips and took a sip. I instantly spat out the liquid. It wasn’t the sweet tasting soda I was expecting, it was a can of beer. I can’t justify a beer this early in the day, but I certainly don’t want to waste it. I guess if it tastes OK with cookies…Calm down mom, I don’t need the beer and cookie calories together. I’ll make Ben drink it.

The Yuppie invited me to an Easter party last night. (Un)fortunately I had plans and couldn’t attend. The party was a bunny hunt where the women were requested to dress like bunnies. I figured this is why he invited me; I am, after all, a Delta Rabbit. Then I got a second look at the invitation:

“Everyone, in the spirit of a good hunt please bring a single friend or friends… it is a hunt after all.”

Oh. My. God. He wasn’t inviting me because he wanted my company. He was inviting me to get rid of me! There’s something a tad disturbing when the man you used to date is trying to hook you up with other people. I’ve seen the episode of “Sex in the City” where Samantha takes the guy she’s trying to get rid of to a similar party, so I know what he’s up to. The Yuppie is so fired. If he wants back into my life he’s going to have to persuade me with a LOT of chocolate, cheese and wine.

Find an employer that give employees Good Friday off.

You see this sign and think it means “No Steak.” True story, folks.

Don’t come to work early on the same day you’re working through lunch.    Moodiness prevails.