Where Did She Go?

ill It would appear that some lucky bug has come to roost at my house this month. It arrived just before Valentines Day and like a bad guest refuses to clean up after itself and leave already. I have learned from past experience that blogging while under the influence of cold and/or pain medication just causes the potential for restraining orders as well as evidence in mental health hearings. Granted I’ve written some of my best work while under the influence with my no holds barred, Can I Keep My Doctor if I said he followed me home bit being the best of them all– and of all 700 something blog stories I’ve written, THAT would be the one to go viral before I came to enough to remove it from the blogosphere.

I promise to be back at the joke writing, and whining about my lack of weight loss and having to explain to docs who use the word “moderation” in regards to my diet that I believe 1,300 calories a day is about as moderate as I want to get thank you very much so quit yer yapping at me..soon enough.

And if by some chance really bad poetry makes it way here before I am well, just know that I blame the NyQuil and hope to delete it once I come to.

Thank you for understanding.


The Worst Valentine’s Day Ever

We’ve all done crazy things for love. Some turn out great, some notsomuch. With Valentines Day right around the corner, I thought it would be fun to take a look at some crazy things we do for love. Are you in?

Have you ever met a man so beautiful that he takes your breath away?

I have.

He was single.

And straight.

And dreamy.

And straight.

And oblivious.

And did I say straight?

Steven sat next to me for three classes that semester in college. We were in the same accounting clubs and we also did runway modeling for the local mall. Unfortunately we’d fallen into the “buds” category, which today translates to “he’s just not into you.” I know that today, but I didn’t know that when I was 19. To say that I made a complete and total blithering idiot out of myself, bringing him coffee every morning, staring at the back of his head during class, sighing every time he spoke, would be an understatement. Yeh, I had it bad.

The thing about Steven is he was shy and he had no idea how dreamy he really was.

At least he didn’t seem to.

Valentines Day was just around the corner and I decided it was time to be bold.

You know what I did?

I took out an ad in the local paper.

Oh no she didn’t.

Oh yes, I did. I took out an ad with the only four French phrases I knew:

Steven D***** (oh wouldn’t you love to know his full name. Ain’t happening.)

Mon Cher

Mon Ami

Je T’aime e vous


Give a girl props for courage.

Take away props for forgetting to sign the stupid thing.

He comes rushing into Econ 201 on cloud 9, waving this paper around, runs up to me – his female BFF and asks if I can read French. He wants to know what is says. Score! – except that, I get so flustered that I spill coffee over both of us. The teacher calls class to order and that is the end of that conversation. That’s okay, I’ll tell him at rehearsal.

Did I tell him at rehearsal?


You know why not.

Because I heard the A-line (the diamond and fur girls) talk about how “some loser is all ga ga over Steve.”

Now, I’ve seen photos of me at 19 — uhm, I was cute. I just didn’t know it. You know? I was a size 6, which is death to a model. Diamond and Fur girls had to be a 4 or smaller. Even as a bulimic, I couldn’t get smaller than a six and I felt like a failure.

So.. I didn’t fess up that night either.

And you know what happened.

Mr Wonderful, encouraged by the anonymous note in the paper asked out Miss Blonde Size Two with the fake boobs.

She was a size 2 with at least a 36 C cup, of course they were fake.

And they live happily ever after.

So fearless readers, what is the stupidest thing you ever did in the name of love?