Like how I no longer qualify as the "single one" among my friends, and yet I still think girls (and some guys) in relationships are gross? Me too.
Here's the thing-no one other than you cares how truly in love you are at this time, and though you may be feeling extreme joy after finding that "special someone" you're not the first person to feel that, and you certainly won't be the last. Also, call me a cynic, but that shit goes away. Your butterflies will subside. One day you might live with this person and they will most likely end up with a virus that gives them diarrhea or they'll vomit (Happens to most of us). Then, you're really being tested. I wonder why you aren't posting pictures of that on Facebook? Caption: I am such a lucky girl! xoxo :)<3 My comment: It isn't that I don't care about you as a person or as a friend, and your happiness is more than welcome here. The details behind said happiness, however, may be the best secrets you will ever keep. For fuck's sake, please keep them.
And, once again, no one but you and the person with their face in the toilet would give a shit. Romantic love is a thing that should be shared between two people (or many if you're into polygamy), not between you, your lover (shudder), and your 500+ Facebook friends. Though we may feel as if the entire universe should know how elated we are, though it may seem cute to post the pictures of the flowers we got "just because! He's so great!", though we may want to shout our significant others' respective names from our own respective rooftops, it is not necessary. It comes across as if you are bragging that someone has picked you. Again, I have to say, happens to most of us.
Love can be a tumultuous and overwhelming cacophony of emotions on its own, so why don't you take it upon yourself to be the one who shuts up? It's kind of like this, I like McDonald's for what it is, but I cannot stand or understand the fascination with the McRib. I feel the same way about pictures of your Valentine's Day flowers and how you relate them to love. I just don't get it. Call me a nut bag, but I don't think that's romance.
Way back when the NBC late night lineup was what it had been for years, Carson Daly somehow managed to sneak his way into my nightly routine. I didn't plan for it, it just happened. Once he decided to change the format of his talk show, he started exhibiting something rather strange-he had pretty good taste in music. It was because of his newly-formatted music show that I was introduced to Adele.
Impressive. Thanks, Carson Daly. Now she has a new album and, I'm just going to repeat what everyone's been saying, but in my own way: Bitch, you know what you're doing, don't you?
I can't deal. What the fuck? (Has any album review ever contained those two phrases back to back?) I guess I should say thanks for releasing a body of work that I can actually love, as opposed to me saying, "Yeah, I like that album," even though I really only think a handful of the songs are legitimately good. I don't think I have liked a new artists' full album since 1996, which was just a few years before autotune came onto the scene, dominated everything you heard on the radio and, by default, stunted my musical growth. When, in order to find good music, one had to go on endless searches that rivaled that of Frodo's quest to the fires of Mordor, I backed the fuck off, because I just didn't have the energy, and stuck with what I knew would withstand the test of time- Beatles, Bowie, bands I listened to in high school, and bands my parents listened to during my conception. I didn't realize, until I downloaded Adele's 21, that my iPod had become a patchwork quilt of four-to-five great songs from each post-90's artist's "great album" stitched together with some mid-90's alternative, 80's new wave, and classic rock.
Adele, girl, take a bow. You've done it. Thanks for being the first in what should be a long line of new favorite albums for me. In a perfect music world those albums would be produced by many talented artists. But I know this world is mass-produced, Gaga-infested (She has her place, but give it a rest.), and an unoriginal place, so all my new favorite albums may be credited to you only.
You're on your way to being a standalone entity of greatness.
For those seasoned pros who are finding regular online dating a bit routine and mundane, or for novices who think they're up for a new relationship with a challenge- date a single dad! Single dads come complete with at least one child and an overbearing, controlling ex, guaranteed to add just the right amount of spice and stress to your budding romance.
*Not all single dads look like this douche nozzle.
You may be calling us in regards to your own children, but we are not children answering the phones here. Adults, actually. I've been potty trained for quite some time.
Miss Uppity: I want to know something, and perhaps I'm looking at an old flier, but do you have children's programs? Me: No, we don't. Miss Uppity: You don't? Not like...in the summer? Me: There may be something lined up for summer, but I have not been made aware of that. So, as of right now, I would say, confidently, no. There are no plans to do anything like that. Miss Uppity: Is it something that was recently cut? Me: I'm not sure. Not that I am aware of. Miss Uppity: Ugh. Are you kidding? Because it sounds grEAT. Have you been there when they've done this? Me: No. I bet it is great. Miss Uppity: Do you wanna hear this blurb about it that I'm reading? Me: Uh. Sure...you can read me the blurb. Miss Uppity: Do you not want to hear it?! Me: Go ahead and read it. Miss Uppity: I got it from a Moms' group I'm in. It says "Kids can have fun and learn how to work with one another through improvisation training..." Me: Oh, you mean training. Miss Uppity: Well, yeah. Did I say something wrong? Me: No, it was just, when you asked me I thought you were referring to a show. Miss Uppity: Oh. No. Classes.
And then...in the most condescending, degrading, I-Am-More-Accustomed-Speaking-to-Those-Ages-Five-and-Under tone you can imagine... Miss Uppity: See?! You helped me. That's great! What is your name? Me: Casey. Miss Uppity: Casey! I'm Laura. Great! Can I get the number for where they teach the classes? Great.
Caller: What shows do you have for Saturday? Me: We have the 11pm show. Caller: Oh, the 11 is all you have? Me: Right. Caller: Do you have any earlier shows? *Hatchet to the face
Caller: I wanted to get tickets for your ETC show on Saturday but the website says you are sold out, so can I get tickets? Me: No ma'am, because the show is sold out. Caller: And what Saturday will you have availability at 8pm? Me: Saturday the 19th is the next upcoming Saturday with availability at 8. Caller: Do you mean March 19th? *This call took place today, February 22nd...so...ya know...post February 19th.
Me: Box office. Caller: Yeah, I need to talk to someone about classes. Me: Let me give you the number to the training center. Caller: Well, maybe you can help me. I want to take a stand up class...stand up 101, but I don't have any stage experience. I didn't know if that was a prerequisite for classes or if it would be okay for me to start in the beginning level without it. Me: Yeah...this is the box office. *Where's the tequila?
If you open your ears upon asking your first question you will, more than likely, have no further questions.
The year is 2001, I think. I am obsessed, I repeat, obsessed with That 70's Show and, more importantly, Topher Grace. I just adore his comedic timing, think he's brilliant, believe that his character, Eric Forman, is how he is in real life, and want to get married. You know, simple stuff. My first trip to Los Angeles as a budding actor myself is centered around a live taping of what I consider "the only good thing left on TV." (No one had seen Arrested Development yet, so I feel I was in the right here.)
Anticipation mounting...in other words, I cannot frigging contain myself. My heart races as my friends and I (with my Memaw in tow) drive our rental car through Studio City. (We weren't physically towing my grandmother. She was allowed in the car with us and could walk quite easily. Relax) The back entrance into the studio is unmistakable, because there is an enormous, tie-dyed sign hanging by the door that makes the retro lover in me nearly orgasm. I am not kidding. We approach the studio, confirmation in hand, and are told, "Sorry. The live taping of That 70's Show has been canceled for today, and we've moved you into a taping of Titus." Mother fucking Titus. (Sigh. It was good.)Heartbroken, I return to Georgia with a photo album full of memories and a rejection story. If only they could have written me a letter.
My love for the show grows and, for the next few years, I watch it take a bit of a spiral downward as most American comedies tend to do once they've been on the air for longer than three seasons. These are the facts, USA. You can take them or leave them. We have a tendency to overdo it. Still, I am dedicated (and married in my mind) to Topher. I had to see it through. Sometime right after I graduate college, it is announced that the show will be going off the air. Then they change their mind. The show will remain, but Topher is not coming back. Excuse me? Attempt to continue this show with out the presence of Eric Forman? Mind-boggling. I can't deal. I make one more attempt at seeing the show taped and, most importantly, expressing my appreciation for Topher Grace's talents in person.
My partner in crime this time around is my college friend Emily Reynolds, nee Emily Foley. Eager for face time with Topher Grace and Danny Masterson (Emily's 70's Show crush. Sorry, Kutcher!) we make t-shirts. Yep. T-shirts. They are white and depict the man of our choosing. We are ready, we are excited and, most importantly, we are 100% confirmed for the taping. It happens. It happens in a big way and, I am such a loud laugher, I am asked to keep it down and given some swag for my troubles.
Lo and behold, there is a post-taping meet and greet. This is our chance! Danny Masterson approaches us, adores Emily's shirt and signs it, I believe. We ask, "Where's Topher?" Danny Masterson takes one look at my shirt and (trust me) his face falls. "Topher had to bail." "What?" I ask.
What?! "He's going to be sad he missed out on seeing this shirt."
He could have gotten married that day, but he didn't. Of course he would be sad when he realized what he'd missed out on that night, or at least this is what I start telling myself.
My love for Topher Grace has not dissipated over the years, but it is at a very healthy I-could-be-friends-with-that-celebrity level now. It is settling to finally be at peace with the events that occurred the two times I visited L.A., even though I failed at my mission, not once, but twice. Emily is now a freelance writer and, every now and then, she gets to interview celebrities who are passing through the Atlanta area. One of her interviews this week was none other than Mr. Grace himself. We briefly discuss our trip to L.A. and how she should really give him crap about ditching the meet and greet to go do something that was probably much less important all those years ago. Imagine my surprise when I check my voice mail on February 17th, and I hear the following:
Unbelievable. And, according to Emily, leaving a message for me was all his idea. As my friend Jo has stated, "That is so baller!" I have to agree. It is. Also, though, incredibly nice to the young super fan that dwells inside of me. He didn't have to do that. First response from a celebrity crush (Way to not take initiative, Macaulay Culkin!) and it is dipped in solid gold...and chocolate. If I could respond to Topher Grace, this is what I would say:
Dude...thank you, from the bottom of my geeky little heart. I adore you and always will. I have a boyfriend I kinda like now, so nothing can happen between us. But, if you ever wanna grab a drink or some coffee, platonic style, I'd love to pick your brain about the episode where you and Kurtwood Smith spent the majority of the half hour atop a hunting blind looking for deer. You two were remarkably funny and brilliant in those scenes. It was then, and remains now, some of the best moments of television I have ever seen. Also, I'm sort of working in a box office right now but would like to be doing other things. I have these scripts that I've written...
