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I am not a morning person. This is a well-known fact among my friends and previous bosses. I cannot function properly until after ten. This sucks for any of the clients I do work for, but…

I’ve tried everything: going to bed earlier, tripling my morning dose of coffee, massive does of morning meth and still nothing works.

Over the past year I’ve started turning into my mother by forgetting things right and left. Mornings are by far the worst time for remembering any details. I’m not talking about complicated details, just the basic essential items…like getting dressed. I’ve left the house and headed to the office in slippers multiple times in the last few months. Luckily it’s been cold so I’ve remembered pants–no one wants a frozen hiney.

As I’ve mentioned here and here, I’ve started leaving myself reminder notes on my front door to ensure some things aren’t forgotten. Today’s is by far the worst of the bunch: If I have to remind myself why I’m leaving the house it might be time to admit defeat and just stay home.

I love this post!

It reminds me of the great Hillary Duff incident of ’06.

I was standing in line when the woman behind me commented on my Hillary ‘08 shirt, “Oh My God, I loooooove Hillary Duff. She’s coming in ’08? That’s so exciting!”

Had she been a kid I’d have gone along with her, but she was a middle-aged woman. She should have known better. “No, this is a Hillary Clinton shirt. You know the Hillary who isn’t twelve?”

I could have been nicer, I guess, but I was just annoyed since that encounter wasn’t the first. In hindsight, I should have just bought the Duff shirt and been done with it.

I’ve always been one to take things slow. Case in point, I’m 32 and still in college. I like to space things out in my life. This includes dating– especially online dating.

On average, when meeting men online I like to exchange email for a couple of weeks before meeting them face-to-face. A few friends have pointed out how much time and emotion I waste doing this. Therefore, I decided the next time a man suggested we meet right away, I would agree.

After only one day of emailing a particular man we agreed to meet for coffee. He filled the prerequisites of having a job and hair, so I figured he couldn’t be all that bad.

Five minutes into the casual ‘date’ I was contemplating sending out an SOS text to all my friends begging them for an emergency call. Though, out of guilt, I didn’t. Sitting on a hard wooden seat, I tried to carry on a conversation with this man whom I knew I could never date. Sometimes you just know. Sure, we had quite a few things in common, but in person he just irritated me. It was all rather disappointing.

I sat there being interrogated by this man and found myself not wanting to share any personal information. That’s never a good sign. I answered all his questions as ambiguously as I could. This wasn’t good enough for him and he continued trying to needle more information out of me. (Note to all men: if the woman you are with doesn’t want to answer your questions, take the hint and STOP ASKING HER!)

Still looking for an out, I saw a friend of a friend walk by and waved at him. To the untrained observer it looked like the typical “hey, what’s up” wave, but really it was a plea to be saved. If only he could have thrown me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and run like hell.

In all fairness, my date seemed like a nice enough man: well-educated, handsome, and amazing eyes. Without a doubt, he’s man worthy of meeting the parents. Of course you’d have to drive separately to avoid listening to him laugh at everything that comes out of his mouth.

Forty-five of the longest minutes of my life passed and we finally parted ways. I walked out knowing I never wanted to see this man again, let alone date him. I’m nearly positive he felt the same way. I’m sure I came across seeming cold and uninterested. I felt like a failure for wasting his time and mine and promised myself next time to have a phone conversation before meeting. He had, in fact, suggested this, but I’m not really a phone person so I opted to just meet first. I have no one but myself to blame.

If dating makes me want to be a teenage girl and cut myself in the bathroom to numb the emotional pain, perhaps it’s time to take a break for a while. I’d consider taking time off, but I have another coffee date in an hour. Here’s to hoping this one is better!

Dear Robert Redford,

I’m over Sundance and therefore feel like I should break up with you as well. After years of attending I’m not nearly as excited to go as I once was. Ticket prices have doubled since I started attending and actually getting the films you want is nearly impossible. I did, however, get a few good documentaries and a free dose of humiliation. There are ways to prevent this–I’ll explain.

When choosing where to place your volunteers never, ever put the hard of hearing at the ticket counter. When you are placing an order and you are asked to repeat the film name over and over until you’re yelling it for all to hear it sucks, because undoubtedly the movie will be Good Dicks, causing said elder, female volunteer to blush and you’ll look end up looking like a dirty pervert.

Think ahead and also please stop sucking my bank account dry.

Love,
Sarah

veryGEORGE! is very bossy. After much prodding on his part I’m finally posting the top songs I’d dry hump to. To read his rules and post go here. I’ve never been one to keep rules and I’m certainly not going to start now. Since I’ve not been a teenager in a very long time and I sincerely doubt I’ve ever dry humped as much as George so I’m only posting ten songs.

Sade–Smooth Operator
How I spent 1996. Enough said.
Guns N’ Roses–November Rain
I was sixteen and horny once. In fact, I’m positive this was the song I made out to on multiple occasions in the eleventh grade. Ahhh, the good old days.
Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam
Come on, admit it… we’ve all had the hots for the Mormon Jesus. Those blue eyes and beautiful blond locks.
Mazzy Star–Fade Into You
Find me someone that doesn’t think naughty thoughts during this song and I’ll do my best to change that.
I Hope They Call Me on Mission
Clean cut guys in suits are hot. I did my part in corrupting a few over the years.
Ben Folds Five–The Luckiest
I’ve always loved this song. And fondly remember trying to get my Mormon boyfriend to have sex while listening. I lost.
Heather Nova–Blood of Me
She’s totally girl crush hot AND says the fuck word sexier than any female singer alive.
Journey–Faithfully
I don’t care that George already used this one. It just breeds teenage humping. I’m pretty sure it was responsible for the great hickey incident of 1993.
Al Green–I’m Still in Love With You
Do I really need to explain this one? Total hump music.
The Sundays–Wild Horses
Sexy, sexy, SEXY!

You’ll notice there isn’t any recent music on this list because since last year’s dry hump incident I’ve sworn off of it.

My brother, Ben, has always fancied himself a trend setter. Which is complete and utter nonsense to all those who know him, but we just nod our heads and agree because it makes him feel good.

His latest hair “trend” was indeed copied, but my a much younger crowd: our nephew Carter:Who is related and therefore shouldn’t count. Besides with Lightning McQueen so popular, what kid wouldn’t want a lightening bolt shaved into the side of his head?

I’m spent. Seriously, 100% exhausted. So much, in fact, I’m thinking about picking up a drug or alcohol “habit” so I can take a vacation at The Betty. I kid, I kid… mostly.

I started a new job recently and it’s a bigger challenge than I thought it would be, which is not a bad thing, just exhausting. However, once I get settled I’m sure there will be many entertaining tidbits. For example, riding in the elevator with the wonky-eyed guy and working with a child who enjoys chicken. And pot pies.

But until then, I’m going to bed. Or hitting the bottle.

To read this week’s column go here!

Maddie and I welcomed 2008 by kissing our shared date. He’s a very lucky lad even if he does need to be constantly reminded of this. He’s laughing because I licked him. As far as personal space violations go I think he had it easy. I’m the one who was sniffed earlier in the evening.

Yes, sniffed.

Drunk people tend to overlook personal space rules, which is normally fine but when my ponytail is picked up and sniffed I tend to get a little creeped out. However, I coped with a bottle of wine and felt much better.

I hope everyone had a great night!