Archive for November 23, 2005

And It’s About Time

November 23, 2005

A couple weeks ago something magical happened.  I composed a way-too-long blog entry about it, which I never published, because it was way too long and told way too many details that would have bored you.  So I am taking everything out and publishing this with only the most important fact: I saw Jessica and Ashlee Simpson.

Yes, I will repeat it because I like to brag.  I saw Jessica and Ashlee Simpson.  I was with my friend Annie and some other lovely people at an inconspicuous little restaurant/bar in Hollywood, and in they walked.

I probably wouldn’t even have noticed them, because honestly you could hit me over the head with a celebrity and I’d be like, "doo -de- doo, what shall I order to eat?"  and you’d be like, "Hello, Marcy, I just hit you over the head with Johnny Depp," and I’d be like, "HUH?  Where?  Where’d he go?  Did you ask him if he wanted to father my children?"  But it would be too late and I would just catch a glimpse of, like, a piece of his hair as he walked away.  But luckily, Annie tends to be in-tune with her surroundings and immediately noticed the Simpson sisters as they passed our booth.  Conveniently they sat right on the way to the bathroom, and I was suddenly and mysteriously stricken with the overwhelming call of nature.

Here are my impressions, but first, you need to know that I am mildly obsessed with Jessica Simpson.  I’m not sure if one can be "mildly" obsessed, but if you can, I am, and I really don’t care what anyone thinks of that.  I loved watching "Newlyweds: Nick & Jessica," and I think she is one of the most gorgeous, stunningly beautiful women alive today, along with Courtney Cox Arquette.  I really can’t get enough of her, and I’ve been anxiously awaiting the time when I would see her out, as it was really inevitable. 

As I passed, Jessica looked right at me (yes, eye contact, my friends), and she was smacking her gum so hard I thought all of her energy and concentration must be going into killing that beast, the Gum, in her mouth.  She looked fantastic, of course, and I thought she looked a lot younger than she does on TV and in pictures — maybe because of the comically over-exaggerated gum chomping, I don’t know.  Ashlee actually looked way cuter in person than on TV, and a couple times throughout the evening I mistook her for Jessica on first glance.  I probably would have judged her way more harshly if that Canada/McDonalds incident had already happened, but it hadn’t, so I didn’t.

Anyway, I finally saw Jessica Simpson, and now I can move on with my life.  Feel free to roll your eyes at me because I am so lame and Jessica Simpson is so shallow and isn’t even that pretty, and besides, you’re too busy finding a cure for cancer to bother with noticing celebrities.  Or, you can instead be thrilled for me and maybe a little jealous, or, as will probably happen in most cases, you can just not care either way.  But whichever opinion you choose, I saw Jessica Simpson!

A Typical Workday Conversation

November 17, 2005

[11:44] marcymint23: FYI, I just took Advil and Codeine, having already taken 2 Alleve this morning, to try and tranquilize the elves in my uterous that think it’s good fun to rip and tear at my insides.  If you see me behaving strangely or passing out in my chair, can you wake me up? 
[11:44] erin2000: hahaha, yes
[11:44] erin2000: i had that problem on monday.  stupid uterine elves.
[11:45] marcymint23: Gosh, I know!  My uterine elves are SO rambunctious and oblivious to my feelings.

(Screen names have been changed — haha, suckers)

A Frosty Root Beer Day

November 11, 2005

Yesterday was a Frosty Root Beer day.  You may think that is a good thing, but you are unfortunately mistaken. 

A while back my boss sent an email to my department at work asking us to refrain from loudly complaining about our clients after getting off the phone with them.  He said something along the lines of, "If you need to blow off some steam, go into the kitchen with someone, get a frosty root beer, and get it off your chest."  Well, we’re all still making jokes about the frosty root beer comment, and yesterday I needed a frosty root beer like Bob Saget needs a new job that doesn’t involve him trying to be funny.

It started in the car on the way to work.  I was running late, and every lane I chose suddenly became the lane that was completely stopped while cars in all of the other lanes were zooming past me, a-la that scene at the beginning of the movie Office Space. Classic.

I was listening to NPR, which I should never do in a bad mood, and when I heard about the bill congress is trying to pass that involves huge education budget cuts, I got so angry that I could literally feel my blood pressure rising to the level of an old, fat man who smokes 2 packs a day.  It was at this moment that my red light turned green, and the lane next to me began merrily tooling through the green light, while the 3 or 4 cars in front of me just.   sat.    there.   and.   sat.    and.    sat.    and.  sat.    there.  I yelled and moaned in despair and rage, and finally lay on my horn out of dire frustration, and at last, the guy in front decided that yes, he did want to get where he was going, so we could all now proceed through the now-turning-yellow-again light.

At this point in my journey I began to take stock of my situation, and did some analysis as to why I was feeling more irritable than a three-year-old whose 7-year-old brother is repeatedly flicking her in the back of the head, while dangling her favorite doll by its hair just out of reach.  I called up my mental wall calendar, which this month features rainbows and hot air balloons on a sky-blue background with fluffly clouds, all late-70s style.  October’s mental calendar was unicorns on a sparkly night sky, also rather 70s-elicious.  Anyway, I realized that yes, I am in the absolute crux of PMS.  This explains a lot.  However, it seems as though the universe knew that I was already experiencing a monstrous level of irritability yesterday and decided to pick on me like the afore-mentioned 7-year-old big brother, because when I got to work, the annoyance only got worse.

The second client I spoke to was so rude, SO rude, for absolutely no reason whatsoever.  She is one of those people who is determined to always be blaming someone for something, and the whole time I talked to her she kept cutting me off and just being an absolute witchy woman.  When I hung up I shouted, "Y’all, I need a frosty root beer SO BAD!"

After that, things slowly began to improve.  I didn’t get a frosty root beer, but I ate some Halloween candy, which made me feel both better and guilty, and later had a delicious lunch, which boosted my spirits considerably. Today has started out much better, and I have high hopes for a Frosty Root Beer-free weekend.  I’ll keep you posted. (Lucky you)!

It Is As I Suspected:

November 8, 2005

Jake Gyllenhaal is smart, funny, articulate, kind, sexy, and of course, as cute as a fucking button.

Last night I attended a screening of the upcoming film Brokeback Mountain, and afterward Jake came out for an interview and answered questions. He was articulate and intelligent sounding, while acting completely modest, humble, and downright adorable, and OH, did I mention funny in the cutest way ever? And I admire him so much because when one dude from the audience was up at the mic. asking a question, the dude’s voice cracked in the most hilarious way ever, and Jake did not even miss a beat. The corners of his mouth didn’t even twitch for a second. He just respectfully answered the man’s question! It was so funny, you guys. The dude had to be at least 40, and his voice cracked in the most 1950s-sitcom, stereotypical way. I even giggled to myself, and I know that if I were Jake it would have been extremely difficult to hold it together — but he did! And that is how I know he is a kind, wonderful person whose babies I must begin conceiving at once.

I spent the first few minutes just soaking him in and being thankful that I had such a good seat near the front with an unobstructed view. Then I started desperately racking my brain for a non-dumb-sounding question so I could go up to the mic and he could see me and realize that we are destined to be together. I finally thought of a question, and as I was sitting there trying to determine whether it was dumb or not dumb, another woman asked the same question, and the moderator was like, “Oh, that’s a good question!” and Jake was like, “Yeah,” and I was like, “Doh!”

Jeff doesn’t mind that I’m in love with Jake. He understands, in the same way I understand how he is in love with Alyssa Milano. As we were leaving, Jeff had to admit: Jake is a “damn good-looking guy.” And so much more. Sigh.

P.S. Brokeback Mountain is really, really, really good. You should see it.