I Feel Pretty

I'm like a giddy schoolgirl today. Why? Because I am featuring an interview with one of my favorite bloggers - Legally Blonde Mel of I Pick Pretty. When I first encountered her online, I felt like the nerdy girl in the back of the class that wanted so much for the popular girl to like her. If LBM picks pretty, was I pretty enough to be her friend? I was thrilled when she began following my blog as well. She likes me! She really likes me!!!

Without further ado, I bring you the fabulous, witty, fashionable and pretty (of course) Legally Blonde Mel...

Based on your profile pic and your nom de plume, I am picturing you as a cross between Grace Kelly and Elle Woods. Am I way far off base? Are we ever going to get a glimpse of the real Mel?

If I’m having a very, very good day, complete with that mystical fuzzy Oprah lighting, I get compared to Ellen Pompeo or Renee Zellweger - read: squinty and blonde-ish. Grace and Elle more reflect my writing state of mind, the endless quest for that (wholly imaginary) perfect blend of professional excellence and personal style. Honestly, I never set out to be mysterious about my real identity; I initially didn’t post personal pictures out of fear of being Dooced. Now it’s more the issue of how to compete with all of the Grace Kelly photos, and the fact that she so embodies that exaggerated Ice Queen voice my blogging comes out in.

I’ll out myself one day soon, but this being me, there will be some sort of twist to it. Sometimes a girl just needs a twist, no? For what it’s worth, should any of you (non crazies) find yourself Austin, I’d love to meet for a drink and prove that I’m not actually a 43-year-old Guamanian father of six. I won’t even refer to you as my “pet” or my “darling”, believe it or not!

I’ve been fortunate enough to meet some of my favorite bloggers (The Freckled Citizen; TUWABVB; The Coconut Diaries; Milltini; SLynnRo; Elefantitas Alegres; Make Mine a Mojito) in person & hope someday to share a cocktail or ten with you and other readers. (GG Note: Oh! I'm there - I'm not crazy, I promise! Well, most of the time anyway...)

You often talk about the Ice Princess persona. I've been referred to that way many times based on how I look, which has sometimes made making friends pretty difficult. Have you ever had that problem? You do a good job at maintaining a "Prettier than Everyone Else" Ice Princess persona, but still being 100% likeable - any helpful tips on how to achieve this?

Thank you! As Betty Draper once said, “My people are Nordic”; so yes, I’ve absolutely had that problem. Combine my family background & whatever it is about my appearance, along with a natural tendency to be somewhat shy, and I’ve found myself battling that perception over the years. As I’ve written about before, I’m a recovering introvert – one that’s married to a raging extrovert, that is. With enough time, effort, and liquor, I like to think I’m making progress. I just try to remember that we all just want to be liked, and try to act kindly (mostly) from there.

Who are your top five favorite blondes of all time?

I take the Elle Woods approach to this – blonde is more a state of mind. This has absolutely nothing to do with the color of my roots. Ahem. My favorite blondes (the ones I’m not related to, that is):
1) Grace Kelly (GG Note: Shock!)
2) Jane Austen – Surprised? Perhaps she wasn’t strictly a blonde in real life, but I can’t think of anyone who better captures that spirit. The only author whose works I re-read annually.
3) Janet Leigh – another definitive Hitchcock (I’m a huge fan) blonde
4) Kate Winslet
5) Anna Wintour (I’d call her more blondish, but I’m afraid of her) (GG Note: I think everyone is!)

You're a lawyer in real life, but what is your ultimate dream job?

As much as I adore the practice of law (Miss America answer intro) . . . I’d like to have children even more than I’d like a vintage Kelly bag, just to give you the idea of how much I look forward to starting a family. But seriously, if the stars align, I will have a few Ralph Lauren ad style children, be running the PTA in manner of the fiercest South American dictator, and have time to blog more & do some freelance writing.

My inner word nerd would love to teach literature and American government, so that may be in my future as well. Oh, and I’d like a pony. Or ten. So something that supports that.

Your pug Wallace is adorable! My cat, Simon Jefferson, often likes to guest blog for me. Any chance that we'll see Wallace pen a few posts?

Thank you! Wallace, shameless show-off that he is, isn’t much of a writer. Too busy chasing the chicks. Actually, I’ve shied away from any pet writing due to my family, who likes to send out Christmas letters – not mere cards, but letters – as authored by Spike the cat. Nothing like finding out the details of your stepfather’s prostate surgery from your family feline. So I enjoy reading your & other blogger’s posts in this style, but I can’t quite go there yet. (GG Note: Perhaps we will hear from Spike then?)

I read your very first post where you persuaded readers that they should like you better than (insert Skank name here that rhymes with Maris). Not a tough choice for me, I've already cast my vote for you! How has your blog evolved since then?

I’d like to think I’ve grown as a writer over the past year, figuring out what feels authentic and creating a unique voice. As my writing has evolved, I’ve changed the design (meaning: hired excellent designers to do it for me), such that it now looks and sounds like something I’m proud of most days and representative of (a very over-the-top version of) me.

You recently celebrated your one year blogging anniversary - Congratulations! And you have over 400 followers. I'm impressed. Care to share any secrets of your blogging success?

Thanks! I haven’t the slightest idea. I mean, I’m egotistical and all, but I’m truly flattered that even one of you reads my dreck. But seriously, I try to stay focused on the writing (believe it or not) and not on my stat counter or how many followers I have. I figure if the content is decent & something I find enjoyable, hopefully others will like it too.

For any new bloggers out there (although at year 1, I count myself as a newbie too), regularly reading & commenting on blogs you enjoy is a very good start. Good, genuine comments – ie, not ones that are left solely to Pimp Your Blog – are one means to getting readers, and more importantly, they give you a different way to interact with the bloggers you like. For more on this subject, my blog friend NYC HIT recently wrote a terrific post about this here.

You've won an Academy Award! Who is designing your dress?

I may be a recovering introvert, but what I wouldn’t give for a day of red carpet primping and glamour. Hell, I’d happily strumpet back and forth in front of my house if couture were involved – no need for an event. I love the classics – Oscar de la Renta, Carolina Hererra, YSL, Chanel – but I also like what Thakoon and Marchesa are putting out as well. Kate Winslet at the 2009 Oscars was the picture of red carpet perfection to me. “Mad Men” aholic that I am, I’d hire that show’s wardrobe mistress to pull it all together with an early 60s sensibility. That’s right, Rachel Zoe, you heard me.

Mel - thanks for stopping by and being my very first interview! Check out I Pick Pretty right now for more style, wit, sarcasm and fun! And not by any means because she is featuring me on her blog today as well ;)

Pickle Day

It's Wednesday and you know what that means - It's Pickle Day!!!!

Ok, now I know that you're thinking I've really lost my mind...but not completely. You see, from the moment I could speak, I announced that Wednesdays and Saturdays were pickle days. I don't think I was really making any kind of political statement. As you may remember from a couple of posts ago, I'm a picky eater. I think I was really just trying to justify my love of McDonald's hamburgers despite the fact that they always automatically included a pickle, which I did not particularly care for. I figured I had to give that pickle a shot, but only if we happened to be at McDonald's on a Wednesday or Saturday.

Well, flash forward thirty years and of course my parents and any others in my life that know about "pickle days" have never let me live it down. I have actually developed a taste for pickles since then, but I have to be in a certain mood.

For example, last Wednesday Hottie Husband and I were eating lunch at a deli and my sandwich included a pickle on the side. He tried to insist that I had to eat the pickle since it was indeed Pickle Day. I tried to explain to him that eating a pickle on Pickle Day wasn't mandatory, but optional. It was just an opportunity to eat said pickle if I felt like it.

Then I went grocery shopping on Sunday and picked up a jar of pickles. On Monday I decided that I felt like eating a pickle. HH caught me in the act. "It's not Pickle Day!!!" he insisted. Well, yeah, but I felt like having a pickle.

HH just doesn't get it. I made the rules, I can break them, right?

Oh yeah, I also can't eat a grape unless a bell rings. Another long story...

Yogarazzi

Being the fitness enthusiast that I am - I often try to make it to a lunchtime yoga class at my gym. My type A personality tells me that yoga is boring and a complete waste and that if I actually got my ass to the gym for once I should really be doing straight up cardio the whole time. But the pain in my joints and muscles is telling me that I really need to relax and focus more on stretching and such. Besides, I have totally perfected Child's Pose and Corpse!

I digress. Anyway, so I went today at lunch and the only space left in the studio was right beside the door. I was upside down in one of those embarassing, convoluted positions that not even my own husband has been privy to - and I look up and see a camera in my face. No Joke! There was a woman pointing a camera at me through the narrow window beside the door.

Seriously! It's hard enough just living a normal day without the paparazzi trailing me everywhere I go, hoards of fans wanting my autograph, people interrupting my meals to take pictures with me, etc. I realize I live my life in the spotlight, but is it too much to ask for people to treat me as a human being? I just want to be able to live a normal life and go out in public as I please without feeling as if my privacy has been compromised.

Ok, back to reality:

Right....so, anyway...you probably realize just by glancing at my blog header that I am not camera shy by any means, but this completely threw me off. I figured it was someone taking publicity photos for the gym, but, ummm....I don't recall signing a release form with my membership that mentioned being able to take pictures of my sweaty, nasty, ass and posting them anywhere to lure in new victims, I mean, other individuals devoted to a healthy exercise regimen.

So much for relaxation!

Namaste...

Touch My Food - I'll Bite Your Hand Off!

You know what makes me really cranky? Those restaurants that have the "family style dining" concept. You know what I'm talking about - where everybody orders something, but then passes it around and shares it with everyone else and it's supposed to be one big, happy, fun, family.

Here's my problem - I'm PICKY! Yes, I admit it. Everybody else always orders something that I wouldn't touch with a 10 ft. pole and I order the ONE thing that I will eat. And then everyone proceeds to eat off of my plate and continues to push their disgusting food in my face wondering why I won't eat it. Then I don't have enough to eat which makes me even crankier than before!

I've found myself at this type of restaurant a couple of times now in work situations, which makes it even worse because:

1. I am trying to be polite and business-like and don't want to come off as a whiny brat


2. Work dinners are always late in the evening and I am already starving


3. Work dinners always consist of 5,000 people at the same table


4. Having 5,000 people in your party always means that it will take 5,000 years to be seated


5. Then it takes 5,000 years to order


6. Which then means 5,000 more years until your food actually shows up


7. By this time I've had approximately 5,000 alcoholic beverages because there is nothing better to do while I wait and endure polite work chatter


8. Alcohol makes me even hungrier than I was before


9. Everyone else makes comments regarding the fact that I must not be hungry because I'm turning down their offers to eat all of the disgusting crap that they've ordered


10. By the time everyone else eats all of MY food, I am: drunk, angry, hungry and tired. And then everyone wonders why I look like I'm in such a bad mood.
    

So, the moral of the story is - touch my food and I will bite off your hand!

Does anyone else have this problem? Am I just a picky bitch and need to learn to get along better in society? It's ok - you can tell me the truth!

Soulmates

It was love at first sight. Our eyes met, we smiled, we spent the whole evening finding out that we had more in common than we ever thought possible. An instant connection.

We laugh at the same jokes, like to ride in fast cars, sing really loud along with Mick Jagger, team up to do artwork, yearn for a trampoline in the backyard and want to take home every kitten that we see in the pet store.

She looks up to me, mimics my expressions and tone of voice. We have the same shade of blond locks and bright blue eyes. No one would doubt for a second that she wasn't biologically mine. She's not, but I sometimes forget because I never knew before that it was possible to love a child so much. To be so connected in every way to someone who doesn't share my genes. She is my husband's five-year old daughter - my chica.

Last week I picked her up at daycare and she pointed to a sign hanging off of her cubby with a piece of tape. A picture of flowers and hearts drawn in crayon with "I Love You Glamour Girl!" written across the top. My heart melted. I went to take it down to take home with me. "No! You have to leave it there forever so you can see it whenever you pick me up so you know that I love you!"

Tears welled up in my eyes. I looked down at my Chica and her expression suddenly changed, "Mom says I have to make one for her too" as she shrugged her shoulders.

It's not always easy being a step-mother, but I have to keep reminding myself that it's not biology that makes someone a mother - it's the quality of the relationship and the connection of the people involved. Soulmates often come in a different form than you expected and I was lucky to find one of mine last year in this beautiful little girl.

LOL Overload

The other day I was thinking about the fact that I never use LOL (ok, well, except for right here in this post). I always just type out haha! instead. Is one any more or less annoying than the other? Am I just old fashioned?

I just think it's kinda weird to describe what you're doing (laughing out loud) instead of just doing it - haha! Then there's the increasingly popular LMAO. I figure if I'm going to actually describe to you how I'm reacting to your comment, then I might as well give the highest honor of PMP. Because if I'm peeing my pants over what you wrote, then you have got to know that you're pretty damn funny!

And if we're following this style of writing, what do we say when we're actually not laughing. Maybe we're doing something else instead. Should we give full disclosure? Should I tell you that I'm SMOA (sniffing my own armpit) or PAW (picking a wedge) while reading what you wrote? Or how about BTT (bored to tears). Now that would really piss someone off! Or DFC (Don't F***ing Care!)

How about we all just start telling people how we REALLY feel or what we are REALLY doing instead of the obligatory LOL?

Caught on Tape

Remember back in the day when people had actual land-line phones? I know - it's hard to think we ever survived without cellphones, right? Well, remember how we actually had answering machines with an actual little tiny casette tape? This allowed you to leave REALLY long, annoying, (most of the time drunk), messages because it would keep recording until the end of the tape if you so wished to talk that long.

Well, remember another handy little telephone extra called "three-way calling?" You could be talking to one person, "click" over, dial another person's number, "click" over again after the third person answered and then all three of you would be on the line together.

Let's just say that there was a very Glamorous friend of mine (totally not me) that was talking to a friend on the phone one day in college and decided to 3-way (get your mind out of the gutter!) a boy that this Glamorous friend really liked. He wasn't home, so the Glamorous friend (GF - I'm tired of typing it out) left a short message and "clicked" back over to the original friend and continued the discussion. GF went on a tirade to her friend about how "cute boy" was probably out with that gag-inducing sorority sister of hers that he seemed to have a crush on. She went on and on about how she didn't understand how he could like a dog like her when he could be with someone way more Glamorous like me, I mean GF.

A couple hours after this phone discussion, GF got a call from Cute Boy. She was all excited until she heard the smirky tone of his voice.

GF: "What's wrong with you?"

CB: "I got your message. hahaha"

GF: "What's so funny?"

CB: "You know that when you call 3-way and get an answering machine, it doesn't really hang up on the answering machine"

GF (going completely pale): "How much did you hear?"

CB: "Hahaha! Enough to know that you still have a crush on me!"

GF: "Whatever - I totally knew that your machine was still recording and I was just messing around with you."

CB: "Don't worry, I'm not really interested in dog-face anyway."

GF: "Well, that's what I thought. But, you know CB...you and I are just better off as friends anyway."

CB: "Right...."

And I never, I mean my Glamorous Friend never attempted to use 3-way calling again!

Big City Guest Blogger on Southern Summer Memories

I am so excited to introduce NYC Housewife-in-Training who will be posting in place of me today! I have to admit, when I first came across H.I.T.’s blog, the very cute cartoon pic of her in her header was what prompted me to read more. But, once I started reading, I realized she was much more than just a cute cartoon person. We have so much in common! She’s like the city version of me!

After we basically wrote the exact same post on the exact same day with the exact same video (I’m On a Boat), I decided right then and there that we needed to do a Blog Swap. Little did she know, I was totally just using her for her bigger blog audience. No, really, I just thought it would be a fun idea to start asking like-minded people to post on my blog and vice versa. I hope to make this a regular feature!

Fittingly, her post is of sweet southern summer memories. Click on over to H.I.T.’s blog when you are done to read about one of my adventures in the big city. Enjoy!

______________________________________________

Who would have thought that this city girl was once a country bumpkin? When we moved to New York, I swapped climbing trees with playing sidewalk hopscotch and Osh Kosh overalls with Body Glove suits (what, it was the 80s).

Those carefree days were some of the happiest in my childhood repertoire. But even more so are the fond memories I have of Lake Lanier.

Every summer, my siblings and I would travel by car over the Mason Dixon line to visit my cousins in Georgia. When it was sunny, we slept under the stars on a dock and when it rained, we huddled together in sleeping bags on the kitchen floor.

It was The Shack and we loved every minute of this anti-city life.

We bathed in the lake (with biodegradable shampoo, of course), spent hours playing Risk, hiked paths along the water’s edge, jumped carelessly from a 15 foot drop, clogged a single bathroom septic tank more than once, and ate more s’mores than we could ever imagine.

Life was good.

The Shack is long gone now and the likelihood that Husby will ever rough it out in a single bedroom shed with six kids is slim, but my memories will always persist. And this H.I.T. will never truly be a bona fide city girl when she is country at heart.

I Know a Secret!

He he he! I am dancing around in glee today because I have somehow managed to convince one of my BBFF's (Best Blogger Friends Forever) to swap blogs with me tomorrow. She will be posting here and vice versa. I have updated my music player accordingly to give you a small hint of what's to come and that is all I'm going to say for now!

My usual Friday post is a "Choose Your Own Adventure" where I give choices of stories from my life for you to pick what you want to hear on Monday. So, I will be posting the choices here today instead of tomorrow. As for my post tomorrow, it will be on my swap partner's blog and I will be telling you one of my most embarassing moments ever. So, in the spirit of complete humiliation, here are some other embarassing stories from my life.

Choose one and I will tell you the story on Monday!

1. The Dizzy Bat


2. Stop that Train!


3. Caught on Tape

The Drug Dealer

I went through the drive-thru at the pharmacy this morning and the pharmacist says, "Hey, didn't your car used to be yellow?"

This tells me two things:

1. My car really was part of my identity (maybe a little too much)


2. I buy WAY too many drugs!

I Wasn't On the Invite

Don't you love that no matter how old, females often have a habit of resorting to Junior High behavior. As much as we all try to feign a disgust for drama, I think most of us secretly crave it. Let's take last night for example. I was hanging out with four girlfriends over 1/2 price bottles of wine (things always get crazy when wine is 1/2 off!):

Friend #1 to Friend #2: "I noticed that Friend #5 and Friend #6 weren't on the email about tonight. Were they invited? Because Friend #5 asked what I was doing tonight and I didn't know if she was invited so I didn't know what to tell her."

Friend #2: "No, they weren't on the email, but they can come if they want." Besides, it's not like they invite us to everything! Well, except for last Thursday. Friend #5 sent out a text asking if anyone wanted to get a drink."

Friend #3: "I wasn't on that text!"

Glamour Girl: "I wasn't on that text either!"

Friend #4: "I'm never on the text!"

Friend #2: "It's no big deal. I didn't end up going anyway."

Friend #1: "Thursday night was always OUR night! Is Friend #5 replacing me?"

Friend #4 to Friend #1: "Well, remember the story that Friend #5 was telling us this weekend at Friend #7's bridal shower?"

Glamour Girl: "Friend #7 had a bridal shower this weekend?"

Friend #4: "Yeah, she sent out an email invite."

Glamour Girl: "I wasn't on the invite!"

Friend #4: "You weren't? I could have sworn you were."

Glamour Girl (with almost 1 full bottle finished): "Well, I always invite EVERYONE when I do something. Like my bachelorette party in NYC, I invited everyone not thinking that everyone would actually end up going, but they did. But, then we had a bigger group than I thought and I thought everyone was mad because we couldn't all stay at the friend's apartment I promised."

Friend #4: "See Glamour Girl, that's how much we all love you! Of course we all wanted to go with you to NYC!"

Glamour Girl (via text after arriving safely home and forgiving all for not being on certain emails/texts/invites, etc.): "Thanks for a great night! I love you girls!"

Seriously, where would I be without my girlfriends?

Would You Rather....?

Ok readers, you asked for it and here it is. The winning story from Friday's "Choose Your Own Adventure" post:

Let's flash back a moment, ten years ago (has it been THAT long???) to 1999 where a young, post-college Glamour Girl was taking New York City by storm. I had signed up with a temp agency that specialized in the entertainment industry. They would send me on jobs to places such as Comedy Central, Miramax, Sony, Vogue (insert oooohs and aaawwhs here!).

Of course working in places such as these led to many interesting experiences. One such experience happened when I got a call from my agency to report for a two month gig at CBS's As the World Turns.

After working at CBS headquarters for awhile, I learned that the studio where the CBS Evening News was filmed was in fact right off the main lobby of the building. As I walked by one evening on my way out, to my surprise, the door to the studio had a window. I peeked in and there he was - Dan Rather! Doing the freaking 6:00 news! I was watching something in person that the rest of the country was at home watching on their television. It was such a weird feeling!

So, I made a habit out of peeking in the window every night on my way out the door. Ya know, not stalking or anything, just checking in on Dan, still surprised that anyone working in the building could just peek in this window anytime and watch. What if I waved or made a face at him? Would he notice?

One afternoon, I was standing out in front of the building waiting for delivery of an URGENT, VERY IMPORTANT, LIFE ALTERING package (if you've ever worked in NY, you know that everything at work is URGENT, VERY IMPORTANT and LIFE ALTERING!). The CBS building is on the very west end of town, isolated, in an area with not much foot traffic. I glanced to my left to see a well-dressed man in the distance walking toward the building. There was no one else around him.

As he got closer, I couldn't believe my eyes - it was DAN!!! Yes, of course we were on a first name basis at this point. He was just waltzing into work all by himself, no entourage, no limo, not even a taxi dropping him off. It's like he just parked in the nearest garage and walked on over to work like a normal person.

Now usually I have this well-crafted facade I put on when in the presence of a celebrity (What? Oh - I totally didn't even notice Brad Pitt standing right beside me. My, I barely even know who he is. Even if I did, I wouldn't care because he's just a normal person like everyone else. DUH!). Dan must have thought I was some kind of moron because I was in a complete daze at this point and rendered uterally speechless. He looked right at me, smiled and said, "Hi, how are you?" and walked right in the door. I'm sure I probably managed to smile, nod, or maybe even utter some type of sound resembling a word. Not sure.

You know how I've mentioned recently that sometimes the imaginary life in your head is better than real life? Well, after Dan walked in the building, I smiled smugly. "Oh yeah," I thought to myself, "I bet this whole time he's been spying on me and stalking me too! I bet he even has a CRUSH on me!"

and I'd Rather just leave it at that...

My Imaginary Weekend

Ok, since I'm in a dancing mood, I've decided to add a new feature to my blog - "Playlist for this Weekend" located on the sidebar. This will be a custom selection of music each week based on the mood I'm in. You can turn it off if you want, but if you do you're officially NO FUN! :-P

Sometimes the imaginary life in your head is way more fun than real life. For example, this weekend on my to-do list is power washing the front porch and trimming hedges. I know - don't be jealous!!! But...my imaginary to-do items include going out to A-list dance clubs, shmoozing and dancing my ass off.

I will wear this dress that I'm lusting after right now along with this cute blue clutch I'm lusting after right now. Both at Franchesca's. I love that store!

In honor of my high-profile weekend with my A-list celeb friends, the "Choose Your Own Adventure" theme for this Friday is the B-list celebs I have encountered in person. I have included these story choices in a previous post, but have not written about any yet. Choose your favorite and I will tell you the juicy details on Monday!

1. Dan Rather's huge crush on me


2. The night Venus Williams became my BFF


3. Milli Mystery (or, how did I end up partying with Fab of Milli Vanilli for two nights in a row without knowing who the hell he was??!!)

Have a Dancerific Weekend!

Disco Dreams

Ever have one of those weeks? Where everything hits at once and you feel overwhelmed and see no end in sight? I've had one of those weeks! I won't bore you with the details, but when I feel this way, I often put myself in a dream sequence in my head. This dream sequence more than often involves disco dancing. Disco dancing puts me in such a good mood!

I spent many long hours as a kid watching Saturday Night Fever over and over again mimicking John Travolta's moves. I know it's cheesy, but I love the music, the lighted dance floor and everything else about disco culture.

So, this weekend to put myself in a better mood, I am transporting myself back in time to Studio 54 to dance my blues away. Put on your platform heels and come join me!

Here is the dream sequence I am going to put myself in:

Tips on Going to the Bathroom in the Middle of the Night

Ok, so klutz story #2...

Flash forward several years post-college and I was a completely responsible, professional adult, right?

Well, nontheless, at least I wasn't going to screw up the best job I've ever had by drinking too much and doing something foolish. No, this time I did it totally sober!

I had to travel to a trade show in Dallas and I decided on my first night that I was not going to give in to the temptation to go out partying. Nope, I was going to stay in, watch a movie and rest up for my first big day at the show. And I did! That's when the trouble started. I woke up around 3:30 am having to pee. After I was finished, I flipped off the light. Big mistake!

You know that split second after you flip off the light that you can still see in the dark? Don't ask me what I was thinking, but I thought that in that millisecond of time, I could dash from the bathroom back to the bed while my path was still lit. Combine that flawed thinking with horrible night blindness and before I was halfway through my dash...BOOM! Next thing I knew I was laying on the floor on my back.

You know in cartoons how birds fly around your head after you've been hit? Yeah, it really happens. My first thought was that someone obviously popped out of the closet and hit me in the face with a baseball bat. But, I realized that I had actually just run nose-first into an outer corner of the wall. I finally came to my senses, crawled across the hall to the ice machine, and fell asleep with a rudimentary ice pack on my face made out of a washcloth.

When my alarm went off I slowly remembered what had happened and my head was aching worse than any hangover I ever had. I was petrified to look in the mirror to see the damage, but it wasn't as bad as I thought. Remember how Marsha Brady looked when she got hit in the face with a football? Yeah, that was me. My nose was huge, but at least no bruising.

I figured that since the people I was meeting with that day had never seen me before, then everything would be ok. They would just think I had a really big nose! No problem! I made it halfway through the day until one of the show exhibitors I was having a conversation with starting looking at me weird. "Ummm...I think you have some ink or something on your face." At first I was confused and then my hand flew up to my face realizing what was happening. The bruises were starting to show!

I rushed to the bathroom and confirmed bruises under each eye and on my chin. There wasn't enough makeup in the world to cover this up. The rest of the week I sucked it up, told my story and endured endless teasing.

Word had spread throughout the entire industry and at my next meeting with my Board of Directors they presented me with a catcher's helmet with face guard and autographed by all of them.

I was now a legend!

Going Down in Flames

On Friday I posted a "Choose Your Own Adventure" blog. I listed some stories about my life and you, the reader, decided what you wanted to hear. The outcome was a tie - so I have two klutzy Glamour Girl stories for you. I will post the second one later today.

The first story begins with me as a sorority girl over a decade ago, I mean...a couple of years ago of course! I had the elite title of Social Coordinator for my sorority. The great part about the job was that I got to plan all the parties. The not so great part was that I actually had to be in charge and act somewhat responsible at the parties.

Well, one party in particular was hosted by a fraternity on our campus and held at their house. The genius idea behind these parties was that the girls would start out upstairs going room to room playing different drinking games or taking different shots in each room. That is, until we weren't capable of actually playing the drinking games anymore and just all went downstairs to dance. At this particular party, there was a room that was serving Flaming Dr. Peppers. I was intrigued! After the first one, I was hooked! It consisted of a shot of amaretto topped with Bacardi 151. You then light the shot on fire, drop it into a glass of beer and chug*. If you've never had one, it DOES taste like Dr. Pepper. And everyone knows that yummy tasting drinks fool you into having WAY too many.

I think I had seven of them...hell...I don't remember...I could have had 20 or so. Next thing I knew the party was dwindling down and me being the responsible one wanted to make sure that everyone had a safe ride home. There were a couple of girls that I knew were still in the house, but I couldn't find them. I remember going upstairs and searching room to room and then the next thing I know, I was lying at the bottom of a long flight of wooden steps.

The next morning I woke up in my dorm room having no idea what happened or how I got there. I just knew that I had to get up and pee. As soon as I stepped foot out of bed, I immediately screamed and pulled my foot back up. Wow! What the hell did I do to my foot? I panicked! I could tell it was definitely broken. I woke up my roommate. She really didn't have any more answers than I did, but we rushed to the hospital and next thing I knew I was on crutches for six weeks trying to hobble around campus with a broken foot.

The pieces of the puzzle of that night did slowly come back to me little by little. Yes, I did fall down the stairs...yes, I laid there until someone found me and carried me back to my dorm (embarassing!!!)

Yes, I then used myself as an example in a speech to the whole sorority at our next meeting about how drinking too much can lead to bad things and that is why they should always rely on yours truly to safely send them home before things get out of hand. Yes, I'm SURE they all respected and looked up to me to keep them safe after that.

Job well done!

* Caution: DO NOT try this at home! Or, if you do, just don't blame me!