These are my Confessions

Things that I learned from the Sims that may or may not be helping me today:

1. Money doesn’t grow on trees. But it does grow on rosebuds. If only I could find one in life that was covered in semicolons and exclamation marks. I would be so rich.
2. To be successful in my career I need to create a lot of neighbors to be friends with. Or at least friendly enough that they’re added to my acquaintances. This was maybe the earliest form of networking. Unfortunately my Sims inherited my social anxiety so it was tough to get those promotions.
3. Do NOT tickle someone too soon. I can’t stress this one enough, and although it pops up very rarely in real life, I think it’s totally applicable. When your Sim has a crush on someone (let’s not get into whether that means you have a crush on a fake computer person you created) you can talk to them, tell jokes, give gifts, tickle. Yeah, tickle is an option. Now in my day to day relationships rarely do I feel like I’m getting to the point of tickling. GRANTED, I don’t date as much as my Sims. But I feel like it’s served me well to learn this lesson from them. Few things were more embarrassing than the reaction that a Sim had when tickled to early. It really hurt the relationship. Which hurt my mood. Which could in turn hurt my job. Everything is related y’all. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=soMz8Cr6lj4
4. Be careful exercising in a pool. I used to be on swim team and played the dangerous sport of waterball. But I always have to watch my back. You never know when someone could remove the ladder and leave you stranded. I will say that Sims that passed in this fashion were really really in shape though.
5. Occasionally doing sociopathic things doesn’t necessarily make me a psychopath. RIGHT?! I’ve talked about this with other people, and I’m not the only one. Apparently luring out the neighbors, utilizing the heart bed, putting a sim in a doorless room and setting off a firework, were all common occurrences. That or I’m friends with all psychopaths.
6. You should definitely rush through life. I’m not sure why, but I got in the routine of scheduling out the whole day then fast forwarding through it all. Not sure this is what the game was intended for. But who doesn’t wish they could fast forward through the work day?
7. Don’t joke about wanting to learn Simlish. That’s the language they speak. I was going to make a jk about what it sounded like, but then found an entire website devoted to translating it.

Don’t even get me started on Harvest Moon. If you even know what that N64 game is message me in Simlish and we’ll talk about it.

Jamaica in January with Hanson, the wait is over (were you waiting?)

I got to see my friend Ashley Gibson this weekend (and lots of other friends too, Sing Song is the best) and it reminded me of my main goal in life, to make other people jealous of the adventures I have with Hanson. Or to let other people share in those adventures. Or to give people the opportunity to judge/mock my obsession with Hanson. Just take your pick of whichever most closely applies to you.

I’ve been trying to write about my vacation with Hanson since I got back, but it’s hard to put down, mostly because it was awesome. And then also because I’ve always clung to the fact that I can say I’m not as crazy as other Hanson fans. But can you really say that after you go to Jamaica to see them? I mean, I still can, but only in reference to the people there that were crazier than me (picture tattoos and sleeping by the stage).

So go ahead and make your jokes about Hanson being ‘such a great girls group’ and I’ll ‘laugh’ cause you’re so ‘funny.’

Background: 20^th anniversary (feel old yet) of the band. Card carrying (yes me) members of the fan club can go to an all-inclusive trip to Jamaica where they will play 3 concerts and have 2 special guests. I convince one special guest (Callie Adams, who I bought a fan club membership for) to come with me.

Highlights of my trip to Jamaica:

He didn’t use teeth in any pictures OKAY.

Now timeline form:

Friday January 11^th

10ish: Meet Callie in Miami, use our layover time to eat Mexican food in the airport, also spent time speculating about the trip and probably thanking Callie for agreeing to come with me.

4ish: Arrive in Jamaica, get through customs, see other girls there for Hanson trip, start to get nervous. We may or may not have tried to sneak into another group after the lady asked if we were with Hanson then noticeably rolled her eyes (bad customer service if you ask me).              

5:30ish: While waiting to be shown to our rooms we meet our trip soulmates, Emily and Mike, whose first comment to us was ‘interesting drive over’ I thought they meant the fact that Jamaicans drive like maniacs, no, ‘I mean the Hanson freaks in our van’. Instant bond.

9ish: First show is great; the stage is located right on the sand. However, things take a terrifying turn when some fans decide they’ll watch from the water. I was absolutely convinced they were going to drown and I was going to have to give comments on the news. This blog would have gotten huge though after the viral video hit. Too far?

Saturday January 12^th

8ish: Callie and I discover we’re on the nude portion of the beach. Luckily the influx of Hanson fans has limited the amount of other guests, limited, not eliminated. There was a tethered floatie in the water.. a communal floatie.. on a nude beach. Need I say more?

11ish: Tie dying with Zac. This was an opportunity for us to ‘hang out’ with Zac I guess. What really happened is he walked up and was instantly swarmed. Lucky for us they provided him with a microphone. Giving all due respect to my second favorite member of my favorite band, his jokes need no microphone. They’re best left unheard. Instead all of us laugh really hard at everything. Positive reinforcement for negative behavior.

This is what a true hangout looks like.

Afternoon: Spent at the beach, in swimsuits. Let it be noted that quite a few Hansonites(?) spent their vacation in jeans and t-shirts. A lot also spent their time sleeping by the stage for a 9pm show the next day, or lining up for aforementioned tie dying or later mentioned cooking/drink making. While my heart was heavy for them, it did make finding good lounge chairs a lot easier.

Also Afternoon: Ran into Robert Schwartzman who was playing a show the following night. When I talked excitedly about Robert Schwartzman before the trip and no one knew who I meant I figured out the 3 identifiers I could use so that people knew him: 1. Michael from Princess Diaries 2. Frontman of Rooney, my favorite band in High School and 3. Brother of Jason Schwartzman. Now I might have been one of the few people who knew who he was pre-concert. So of course I went up to him and just let words come out of my mouth with little to know care for how they were strung together. I know I offered him a sip of my drink 3 times, because you know, who wouldn’t want to share a drink with what seems like a deranged fan.

It was a banana smoothie and he would have loved it!

I also told him I’d recently watched his guest appearance on The OC. I stopped short of offering him a pizza with M&Ms on it so you can rest easy. (Joke for the hardcore Princess Diaries fans, ‘Gupta.. mmhmmmhmm.’ IS ANYONE GETTING THIS?!?!)

7ish: Dinner at the hibachi grill, the onion train and knife showmanship did not make it. We did however get serenaded, and I’m pretty sure I sang an Adele song back. This was also when the final members of our group, Jenna and Angelo (who are Australians living in London which is so cool and makes me jealous), were cemented into our group.

9ish: Great second acoustic show. Before you ask, I didn’t cry.

Sunday January 13^th

This was the day when Hanson didn’t perform. Instead it was Charlie Mars (sorry that Bruno stole your chance for fame) and Robert Schwartzman performed.

This was also the day that we went to Taylor and Isaac’s events.

This was also the day when we heckled during Taylor and Isaac’s events.

The most interesting part of those events was meeting a girl who pretended she was in the market for a home so that she could tour the house that one of the Hansons was selling. And also stayed at the same hotel as them. FOUND THEIR ROOM AND PULLED THE BILLING STATEMENT FROM UNDER THE DOOR. I’m sorry. You CANNOT consider me as crazy as this. But the flip side of that is it’s really made me aware of making sure my billing statement gets completely slipped under my door. My celebrity status is rising and I just know people are stalking me to Baltimore.

But actually we became friends with her too.

And one last ‘this was also’, this was also the day that we competed in a lunchtime “Minute to Win It” type thing against some of the core fan club members. Apparently us absolutely destroying them does not bode well for our status on the Fan Forums. But on the real nobody trashed us on there and it kind of hurts my feelings. If people aren’t talking they don’t care!

On the plus side it gave everyone a chance to see my insane competitive side come out. Seriously, I apologize. I’m aware it’s crazy but I can’t stop it.

Monday January 14^th

I’m getting sick of giving times. But I’m just now telling you, I figured you wouldn’t notice until now. Is anyone even still reading?

This was the day the music died. Or almost did. Or when I almost was not a fan anymore. Seriously.

The concert that night was a total repeat of the first night!

Here is my beef with that and the reasons:

1. Umm hello we’re in Jamaica, we came to an ISLAND to hear you play, and you’re playing the same ones
2. It’s not like I’m following your tour and like ‘what? The same songs in different cities’ I’m on an ISLAND
3. Rude
4. We all came to an ISLAND! So we’re obviously fans. BIG ONES. We’re going to notice.

Then I had to help a drunk lesbian who kept trying to grab my bottom. She fell over and was by herself so I helped her to a chair and we sat with her till her roommates finally came over. This might be a good place to add that when we were taken to our room the lady asked if we knew each other. Come to find out MOST of the people on this trip were staying with complete strangers. I mean. Weird right?

After that debacle I was feeling blue. My favorite band had let me down, my vacation was almost over. But wait. There was redemption.

I will give you this life advice for free. Always befriend support staff. Whether it’s the people working at the resort or hosting the event or whatever. Befriend the people who might be secretly in the know (Shout out to Rene and Francois and Coulter who will probably never read this). Cause they’ll tell you that the bros are giving a secret concert in the piano bar and this will happen with no zoom:

And they’ll play your all-time favorite song of Cecilia at your request. And you’ll steal the glass that one of them was using as a souvenir but wash it so you aren’t creepy is that still creepy what’s a run on sentence do they distract from you being weird?

Tuesday January 15th

Say goodbye to my vacation friends and return home. Let me just say, that ever since watching every Mary-Kate and Ashley Around the World movie I’ve wanted a vacation boyfriend. They always get them and they’re soooo cute. But vacation friends are the next best thing (I think, I’ve never had a vacay bf and he could be the worst and then I’d say they are THE best thing).

I appreciate my group for making all my dreams come true. Except for that one where Robert Schwartzman saw me in the crowd and fell in love with me because he could tell I’m funny. I guess his girlfriend is sort of absolutely beautiful.

And for those of you wondering. They played MmmBop. Twice.

Groupon Obsession is Back

Nashville recently ran a groupon special for a sushi making class. On Sunday night my friend Brittney said she had been wondering who in the world would do that. The answer is me…  And 3 of my friends that I conned into it, which is really a harsher word than necessary. I didn’t even have to resort to guilt (I travel and am gone all the time, don’t you waaant to spend time with me?) to get them to agree.

So Saturday night the four of us traveled to Capital Asian Buffet (yes, really) to learn how to make a California roll.

I’ll backtrack a little to include the fact that this was not my first groupon redeemed that day. My roommate Mickey got us massages for my birthday. Before you ask, it was not couples. Also, I don’t see the appeal of being in a room with your significant other, being rubbed by strangers. It’s not like you’re going to get a lot of good conversation in.

Anyway, it’s obviously a while since my birthday (August if you forgot to send presents) so we were determined to get it in this weekend. So Mick was setting up the appointments and asked if I had a preference for man or woman masseuse. Being the progressive, hip girl I am, I of course said no. Which I then promptly forgot until we were sitting in a room about to be taken in and a Dave Navarro looking guy came in. Which was pretty unsettling cause.. well.. Dave Navarro looks like this:

Luckily he was not my fate. Instead I got a blinky guy named Clark. Who really looks like the nicest nervous person you’ve ever met. I know he’s a professional and used to rubbing girls for a living. So I just told myself that over and over in my head. Clark is a true gentleman, even when saying the phrase ‘uhh, so just put your robe here.. and then get under the sheet.. and uhh.. put the mask over your eyes.’ Sorry what? I’m going to be blindfolded basically? But while creepy, that little eye mask was nice. And I did eventually forget the weirdness of the situation, except when I had to flip.

I feel like I might have become spoiled by this place. They gave you robes and the waiting room was dim with relaxing music and any kind of tea you wanted. Some women were a little chatty so I had to lie a little and pretend I do this all the time. The words ‘oh yeah, usually when I get a massage’ actually came out of my mouth.

The best news was that I was relaxed and ready for my sushi making experience, which I’ll pick up again now.

So we walked into this ENORMOUS buffet restaurant with about 10 patrons. Were led to a back room where they were holding the class. A giant TV was playing Wipeout, which was funny, MXC y’all.

Let me just say the class ended up being an absolute success, but you know when you’ve suggested a restaurant or activity and it’s horrible and you’re embarrassed, I thought that was coming at first. There weren’t enough seats for us, they never asked for our groupon information and it was feeling sketchy.

Then I saw the divorced friends with the most giant bottle of wine ever and realized we were in for a night of fun. Those ladies knew how to party, if by party you mean talk loudly about their ex-husbands and the random guy who was totally stalking them on facebook. The other attendees were a really cool looking girl who my friend Rachel thought was with the other girls and they were ignoring her. In reality I assume she was quietly judging all of us. I respect that. And the last duo was a boyfriend/girlfriend. I’m also making assumptions here, but the class HAD to be his idea.

I’m going to go ahead and say that this class did VERY little in the way of preparing me for making sushi on my own. But, if you provide me with absolutely everything I need precut and ready to go, I can make you a fantastic roll or Nigiri.

Here is all of us with Jimmy, who was quit the ladies man. But seriously, we asked him if he had plans but he was busy.

Linda and I working on our Nigiri. That’s my ‘haha guys, look how funny I’m being by making a weird face’ face.

 

 

Above is the picture right after I created a chicken/duck out of an APPLE y’all. Jimmy was such a good teacher/made fun of me in broken English the whole time. It felt right.

Moving and Yearbooks

So I’m back by popular demand (does two people telling me I should write something else qualify as popular demand?) Don’t expect too much. My writing is rusty and I have a pessimistic view on life because I’ve been in DC for the past two months, uninspired and annoyed (the traffic is no fun).

My parents are officially moving to California, so if you want to come visit us, we (they) have a backyard featuring a pool, gazebo, and outdoor grill. Almost certainly they will rarely utilize any of those things.

I discovered that when your parents move and you’re old you are expected to go through all your memorabilia and dispose of practically everything. I’m slightly exaggerating. But I have spent the past lots of weekends going through all my childhood, elementary and middle school (henceforth known as homeschool era) things as well as high school stuff.

I have a problem with saving things that are basically useless. I wouldn’t even have cared about them when they were originally purchased or received but they become sentimental because I’ve kept them for so long. I unearthed an entire box of ticket stubs, why I needed to remember the exact day I went to see Pearl Harbor or Night at the Museum is beyond me (JK! Josh Hartnett is HOTTTT and I saw Night at the Museum at one of those eat dinner while you watch places).

While going through all my stuff I also found a lot of my old yearbooks. If you know me you’ll probably be saying ‘Liar! You have your yearbook proudly displayed on your shelf and you’ve made me look through it!’ While that is true, get real, it’s my senior yearbook when I was editor. DUH! Why would I not have it displayed? Also, I totally use my editor experience in interviews still. Totally relevant right?

Anyway, not all my yearbooks are prominently displayed. And I found out why.

My mom calls her yearbooks ‘annuals’ and I always loved looking through hers. Especially her 7^th grade one where she blacked out her picture. I love it because she was embarrassed, which must be why I chose to do some embarrassing things in my yearbooks. To make myself a laughing stock to my future, fictitious children. So here are some of my key yearbook mistakes:

1. My decisions on clothing or hair for any yearbook photo. I think most feature choker type necklaces, especially the cool bandana ones you twisted yourself. I also used Sun-In frequently and rollers to make my hair flip out. Basically every photograph is horrific and I didn’t have the foresight of my mother to black them out. It would just seem petty now… Right?
2. Honestly if this is what I looked like in my pictures I wouldn’t mind at all. Boas scream sex appeal. But this was pre being a normal person in school. I guess this was a homeschool yearbook photo.
3. I decided gel pens were a fantastic idea. The smears… No one ever waits for them to dry.
4. Because gel pens are cool and glittery and wonderful its totally normal to decorate my book a little. These decorations might happen to include stars next to every picture of Doug Leslie. Guys he was a Junior when I was in 8^th grade (I went to a small weird charter school in 8^th grade… don’t ask). Anyway, I promise he looked like this: And that was totally my jam back then. I’m pretty positive we had zero interaction. But the hair… the butt cut hair.
5. I’m not proud of this fact, but I can almost recite you some of the things that boys I had a crush on wrote. Was it weird to read into ‘HAGS!’
6. This might be the worst, or at least the one that surely my kids are going to judge me for. I totally have multiple teacher signatures in my book.  Okay, before you judge, Mrs. Innerarity was the best English teacher ever. And I worked REALLY hard to suck up to her. So I wanted to remember how it felt to bask in that glow. Oh captain my captain.

So those are my yearbook musings. If anyone has any suggestions on how to pinterest my old trophies that would be greatly appreciated. Also if someone could let me know if pinterest can be used as a verb. And if dressing up is still cool.

Anna and I also found all the old dress up clothes. Guarantee you all of my sisters will be fighting over being the owner of that fur coat.

Holiday World in Pictures

If you know me some, you probably know I have a deep love for Holiday World. My sister’s and I have been going for the past 6 years and it never disappoints. If you knew I was going Monday, I know what you’re thinking.. Did it rain the whole time? Did the day get ruined?! But don’t worry, it poured on us the ENTIRE way up there, but the magic of Holiday World came through for us (and some serious praying on the drive up) it did not rain a drop while we were there. And the clouds made it cool, plus most people don’t come out to amusement parks on overcast days so the crowds were sparse. It was magical and perfect.

So I’ll give you the timeline of our Monday trip.

First we start the day with donuts. Kripsy Kreme, chocolate with sprinkles. We’ve had some tragic incidents where we’ve gotten plain glazed accidentally. I still can’t really talk about it.

If you bring in a Pepsi product you get a discount on tickets, so I paparazzi-ed the twins while they picked up some at the gas station. Notice Anna went a little punky for this trip. Or at least that’s what Julia and I said the whole time. She really liked those jokes.

This is before the Gobbler Getaway. It’s a ride where you shoot turkey with a laser tag type gun. The girls hate it cause I win. Every. Time. And when I say win, I mean absolutely destroy them. Notice creepy grandma in the back complete with cat and gun.

I’m pretty impressed with my ability to take an in motion swing picture. I did feel pretty sick after it though.

This is a Pepsi Oasis. One of the things that makes Holiday World so great. Most amusement parks leave you feeling dehydrated. You either have to carry a commemorative cup all day long or wait to ride until you finish your expensive drink. Not so with Holiday World. Unlimited drinks all day long included in the price of the ticket. Does this sound like a love letter to Holiday World? It is.

Here I’m going to have to be really careful not to get emotional. This is Julz and I with the team of Dive. From the left the team consists of: Lil Cutie, Girl, Daniel the Comedian, Other Girl, Monkey Butt, and Hot Stuff. Only one of these is an actual name. Surprisingly the rest are just nicknames. Dive is one of the main draws for us. Not only is their diving beautiful, but they have tons of gimmicks, from lighting a diver on fire to jumping from a 70 foot ledge (they reach speeds of up to 55mph). It’s beautiful. It’s upbeat. It’s fun. Both Julia and I have been audience participants who have thrown off the audience plant. Sorry guys, this ain’t our first rodeo.

The twins wouldn’t take a picture with me and the real Santa so I took one with the picture. I think they might be scared of the real one. I’m more scared of Holidog. I don’t like any mascot, something about not being able to see their face. I will go to the drive-through if the Chick-Fil-A cow is there.

This is our “last” picture outside Holiday World. Because my parents are leaving Tennessee Anna is convinced we won’t ever go back. It is my plan to continue to go annually. Apparently I might be taking applications on who gets to go with me. Requirements: You must believe in the power of Santa Claus (Indiana).

 

FYI my birthday is in about a week so go ahead and start sending your presents now. I’ll be accepting cash, gift cards, and the cast of the Dive team (just Lil Cutie and Hot Stuff, maybe Daniel).

 

Concerts with High School Boys – Not in a creepy way

I can now say I’ve been to a concert alone. Let me say, this might have been one of my favorite solo experiences. People are just really excited to be there. They’ve dropped a ridiculous amount of money to come but try to forget that by having a really good time.

This is an irrelevant comment to most but might come in handy if you’re ever in Detroit: The Palace in Auburn Hills MI has really terrible parking.

So after sitting in a lot of traffic to get to a $15 parking spot, I began my trek up to my seat. I ended up sitting between some girls that thought they were hipsters (but would be shamed if they came to Nashville) and some high school boys.

Guess who wanted to talk to me more?

So the high school seniors and I chatted it up between the opening act and Coldplay. From them I found out a lot about the mean streets of Detroit. Well, I guess more about the mean streets of a private Catholic school in the suburbs of Detroit. Although I will say, I heard from multiple people during my month and a half stint in Michigan that “there are places in Detroit the police won’t go.” Why would you tell me that? That is absolutely terrifying. Thus, there are places in Detroit (read the whole city) that Emma won’t go.

Okay so let me say, by no means do I think that I am old. But apparently being 24 (25 in two weeks, I’ll give my address for you to send gifts) means that high schoolers think that you’re getting up there in years.

The plus side of this was that they were under the misconception that I could give them a lot of dating and general life advice. Don’t worry; I totally made it sound like I knew what I was talking about. One of them actually asked me if he should break up with his girlfriend. Calm yourself; I’m no Tamara Jacobs (D Creek reference, Pacey’s teacher, keep up) so I don’t think that question was asked with the intention of getting with me. They just hung on my every word. I was absolutely drunk with power.

There was also the dark side of them thinking I’m old. One of them, this is not a joke or exaggeration, actually asked me “so with all this traveling, when are you going to start trying to get married?” I’m not sure what my expression was, maybe something like this.

Just kidding, but it was definitely not a question I was expecting. Being single I think we’re trained to act like we’re not actively trying to get married, because that would be desperate right? RIGHT?? So the call out definitely makes you think. So now I’m assessing whether I’ve started trying.

And now on a more serious note. I read a beautifully written article about Roger Federer once. It was about what it’s like to witness someone playing at the top of their game. I’ve seen him live, and it really is a beautiful thing. I used to call him a robot because he was just so flawless and controlled.

That was similar to how I felt at the Coldplay concert. Not, the robot part, but the witnessing a band that is really on top of their game. The show was high energy from beginning to end. I do wish they would take some style points from Roger though. His Wimbledon pullover definitely beat Chris Martin’s more eclectic style. Not that it’s bad, I just like the classic look.

Back to the concert. I knew going in that they handed out glow in the dark wristbands. I was excited, but pictures can’t really prepare you for what it looks like when 30,000 bracelets start to twinkle or light up in beat with the music. It was really cool. One of the high schooler’s got a defective bracelet that didn’t light up though. I half-heartedly offered to trade and was relieved when he declined.

Coldplay is innovative, fun, and genuinely seem to enjoy putting on a great show every night. Definitely not one of those bands who won’t play their most popular song, and make you feel like an idiot if you want to hear it. FYI Hanson has played MmmBop at every show I’ve been to. They know why some people are there, so they embrace it.

That’s enough gushing about the concert. Now I can just relive the memories when the Garden Inn in Jacksonville lightly pipes ‘Paradise’ through the central speakers.

Reasons I’m not an Olympian

Like everyone I’ve been getting somewhat wrapped up in the Olympics. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still watching the Bachelor Pad, I just flip over during commercials to see how Missy Franklin is doing.

And on that note, I’m just hoping that at age 17 Missy isn’t succumbing to Olympic Village. If you haven’t read this article yet, and want to retain your idea of Olympians having some modicum of class, I suggest not clicking on the link. It will change you.

http://espn.go.com/olympics/summer/2012/story/_/id/8133052/athletes-spill-details-dirty-secrets-olympic-village-espn-magazine.  This article makes Bachelor Pad seem tame.

I watched some gymnastics on Sunday night (is there a scientific reason every gymnast has a high voice? Is stunted growth linked to that?). During my viewing there was a commercial exhibiting the hard work of Olympians. Let me break it down line by line and show how very little I qualify to be in this elite group:

1. “I haven’t ordered dessert in two years.” Okay, I don’t order dessert a ton when I’m out at restaurants, but I like knowing it’s an option. Never mind that most of the time I don’t order because I’m too full from eating whatever entrée I’ve gotten.

Also, I don’t think the heart of the issue is dessert. I mean, I could probably give up desserts. I like chocolate and all, but if you were to give me the choice of never having that again or chips and salsa again, well bye mini Dove hearts. My guess is dessert isn’t the only food Olympians have given up. And while I like to think I have some self-discipline, I can’t imagine being happy without the occasional food splurge. Does that make me sound like food and I have an unhealthy relationship? Well, yes.

2. “I haven’t read that bestselling book.” Right now I’m going to ignore that they probably mean 50 Shades of Grey, and focus more on the fact that maybe education is an issue. I mean if you don’t have time to read a book every once in a while, surely your vocab is going to slip some. (Just listen to the encouragements the young girl gymnasts give each other… ‘That was like, so good!’)

I definitely don’t read as much as I used to or as much as I should. And my caliber of reading material is sometimes the Shopaholic series. BUT I do love reading, there’s no beating a book that tugs on the heart strings and stifling tears so the person next to you on the plane doesn’t think you’re crazy.

Have we forgotten what Lavar Burton taught us? Are Olympians unwilling to let their imaginations take flight?

Never mind that reading a book can make you look really smart, if the jacket appears professional.

3. “I haven’t watched TV since last summer.” This one might be what gives me most pause. I mean last summer??? Summer TV isn’t even good! What were you watching? Was it Love in the Wild? You can’t judge all TV based on that. That’s something we have to watch to get us to the new fall line-up?  Does Netflix count? Cause watching on a computer isn’t technically TV.

Also, this feels like a direct diss to me, the viewer, who is obviously watching TV, otherwise I wouldn’t be seeing this commercial. Don’t try to get high and mighty with me. Without my viewership (and maybe a few others) the Olympics wouldn’t be profitable. You need me.

So those are some of the reasons I’m not an Olympian. The only reasons. Okay, and the fact that I’m not an amazing athlete that has devoted my life to one sport in the pursuit of a metal and glory for me and my country.

Tomorrow I go to the Coldplay concert. By myself. I’m sure I’ll be able to scrape together some stories from that.

I have a new job where I travel and things annoy me. And pictures.

Sorry for the delay. I think I’ve actually said that a lot. I’ve been busy switching to a new job. I’ll be traveling a lot for it so look forward to more stories about me and the Applebee’s crowd.

I’ve also been super busy throwing a pity party for myself (surprisingly not due to eating a Lean Cuisine alone in my room last night). To which my dear friend Michael McCarty responded: I don’t mind a pity party because a party is a party and when there is a party there are booze. So that is that. He’s full of great life philosophies. (And genuine talent, his website is awesome if you’re like me and like being reminded of your lack of creativity http://mjmccarty.com/)

But back to the point, which is more things about traveling that annoy me. Well really just two things. On the whole I really love traveling*.

*Most of the time, but this week I missed out on meeting Charlie from the Bachelorette. So I’m still grieving.

The first: people in the baggage claim area. I realize I’ve already talked about airports, but just get over it. Or stop reading. But please don’t stop reading, I live for the meager blog stats I get. I wish I didn’t care, but I do.

Anyway, people at baggage claims. I think there should be some kind of rule about how close you can stand to the carousel. I mean, everyone wants to be closest to where the bags come down the shoot, we’re all wanting to get home or whatever. So when that area is blocked by 3 people, basically standing on top of it, it’s a little frustrating.

If everyone was just to take a step back, watch for their bag, move forward when it comes around, this world would be a better place. I don’t feel like that is asking for too much right? All I ask is for a little common sense in baggage claim… and for people to learn to use cruise control, that’s it.

When you crowd around, it means that when my bag comes around I’m going to have to elbow through you to get to it. And I will. Especially you family with a preteen who is LYING DOWN in front of the carousel, I will step on her.

My second vendetta is against hotels. Not all hotels. But ‘fancy’ hotels. The ones that are masquerading as nice, but they don’t even have a complimentary breakfast. Are biscuits and gravy really that hard? I mean you’re charging me way extra. I take issue when you don’t have apples in the lobby for me to grab on the way out. Or cookies when I’m coming back in for the night. Both of which are at the Hampton Inn, no I’m not getting paid for this endorsement (but if someone wants to send a royalty check my way I’d be okay with that, I’m also available for television commercials).

The hotel I’m in currently has a pool. Oh wait, did I forget to mention it’s in the middle of the lobby. Oh yeah, I’m just going to swim some laps, while everyone who is walking to or from their rooms is watching. Plus it makes the whole place echo, and smell. Since my Olympic swimming dreams were shot down long ago (but much love to Ryan Lochte) I usually swim with the dual purpose of tanning. So lounging in a pool or hot tub (yeah there’s a hot tub) indoors and in the open is not my idea of a good time.

My other frustrations about this hotel make me sound like a diva. I judge myself for complaining about how they hadn’t cleaned my room by the time I got back at 5:30 or the fact that my fridge was broken. But couple that with the plastic ice bag being too small for the ice bucket?! We’ve got ourselves a genuine grievance right?

The end on that subject. On to some serious matters.

I’m sure you’ve heard about the split between Tom Cruise and Josephine “Joey” nee Potter Cruise. It’s very sad (although we were all still hoping she was going to end up with Pacey right?). But this sadness has a silver lining. It’s continuing to provide a lot of great material for my favorite blog/tumblr/whatever trendy things are called. If you’re bored or if you like to laugh you should go to http://surisburnbook.tumblr.com/. It makes fun of celebrities and their children from the perspective of Suri Cruise. It makes me jealous that I can’t think of something like that. I’m just waiting for the idea that will get me a book deal.

Here Maggie and I are at David Copperfield. He seriously was incredible. We had no idea what we were even in for. We should have known though, I mean he made the Statue of Liberty disappear.

Vegas is the city of Icees. But still couldn’t locate Holiday Frost. I’m starting to think that it doesn’t exist. It’s like Brigadoon. Target, bring it back.

I met two of the people from Cobra Starship. I don’t know if they were too excited about me requesting a picture. They both did weird things at the last second.

We copied some foreign people and took a picture on this bridge. And I copied some sorority people and put my hand on my hip.

Mickey and I are moving in together. And we both hate this picture.

My foray into celebrity

Good news. A foreign man and a junior pageant winner asked to take a picture with me this weekend. Thus, I’m now a bona fide celebrity. Do they give out SAG cards for TV Makeover appearances? Also, should I get someone to update my IMDB page?

Sidenote: Don’t actually try to locate me on IMDB because you’ll come across an adult “actress.” Definitely is not me.

In case you missed it, I got a whole minute on national television. You can view the segment on www.hulu.com under Miss USA 2012. I appear just before the 6^th commercial break. Unfortunately, the video has not yet gone viral, so I can’t provide you a youtube link. I’m guessing I would have had better luck if it had aired closer to Miss Ohio telling everyone what an inspirational character Julia Robert’s plays in Pretty Woman. What better tale of ‘girl power’ is there than a hooker who marries rich?

I’ve finally recovered from my jet lag, who knew Vegas was Pacific not Mountain time? So I’m prepared to give a recap of the weekend’s events.

I will say that entering this contest I had no idea how big it actually was going to be. I was assuming a trip to the salon and a photo on a website. Instead it turned into a really memorable experience which will hopefully help me get on next year’s Bachelor if Emily dumps Arie and/or Sean.

So Maggie (my guest) and I arrived in Vegas. I had to get my photo credential since I was super big time. This is actually the first picture I had seen of myself with blonde hair other than the ones I took on my iPhone, where you hold the camera out MySpace style and then it flips the picture and I’m convinced makes you look distorted. Glad I waited till my roots grew out to take pictures. I’m always planning ahead.

That night we stood in a sketchy line to get half price tickets to David Copperfield. Let me tell you Totally. Worth. It.

I love him. Watching David Copperfield is similar to watching your friend’s dad do magic tricks. Except the ‘oooh that’s so embarrassing but sweet’ vibe gets washed away by the astonishment. Maggie and I spent a good portion of the rest of the trip turning to each other and just stating that we had no idea how he did that. That being his “Thirteen” trick that we later googled. I don’t suggest that, let the mystery live!

Sunday was filled with the pageant. They took me backstage early afternoon to do hair and makeup. It was SUCH great timing because I was able to watch the girls go by in their swimsuits for the dress rehearsal. Don’t be fooled, that was sarcasm. How in the world you can get that tiny and tall is beyond me. Rest assured that the spray tan is more noticeable close up though.

While backstage I met Akon. Well, met is kind of a loose term. Mostly everyone was talking about how that was Akon and Arianna (a fellow winner) and I approached him for a picture. I chose not to tell him that I would never have recognized him on my own. I also took a picture with another guy because everyone was acting like he was famous. If you know who he is let me know.

I’m sad to report that Joe Jonas and my paths did not cross (although totally looked over to make sure he was watching my segment while it played on the big screen). He seemed a little depressed to be there. The back story Maggie and I made up is this:

Joe’s Phone: ring ring

Joe: Hello?

Miss USA person (presumably Trump): Want to be a judge in our pageant? There are hot girls in bikinis!

Joe: Hot girls in bikinis?!?! Sign me up!!

A couple days later

MTV: Hey viewing public, my movie awards are tonight, tons of celebs are invited it’s going to be so fun, definitely the same night as Miss USA!

Joe: I want to go to that! I’m still a celebrity right? I should totally be there! I mean, I’m going to be on a reality dating show! Tons of high profile celebrities do that!

MTV: Ummm… yeah… you should totally come… we didn’t plan it for the same night as a way of protecting your feelings…

Joe: Awesome

Joe’s Mom: Joe, you gave your word, you have to judge the pageant

Joe: Mooooooooooooom

That was unnecessary and probably a little long, but you get my point. I’m assuming that he’s found love on his new dating show because he didn’t come up to me after seeing my makeover. Clearly it was just a case of bad timing.

For the show itself we were seated in a side section behind a group of diehard Miss Oklahoma fans. My favorite part of the evening might have been Dawn (3^rd contest winner’s sister) standing up and cheering for Oklahoma every time they did so she got on TV. I need to watch and see if she was successful.

They moved us up to the front row so we could wave at the camera after our spot played. It was during this time that I was sitting a section away from Trump and directly behind Ali Fedawhatsky, of Bachelorette fame, and Rob Kardashian, of who really cares fame. I told Ali I loved her; I didn’t explain that it was mostly because Ashley was such an annoying Bachelorette that she made you long for what you once had.

After they announced Rhode Island as the winner (weirdly enough there weren’t enough write in votes for me to come in and sweep the victory) we headed to eat dinner before the after party.

Maggie and I opted for a bar and grill that was replaying the pageant on at least 15 giant TV screens. This might sound vain, I think it was.

Anyway, we headed to the after party that was slated to start at 10. Thinking we were fashionably late we rolled up at 10:30. Only to find out that the doors didn’t even open till 11.

So we killed time by exploring the Venetian’s indoor canal and chatting with the cool production guy who picked us up from the airport and his fiancé. His name is Freddy Santana. Freddy. Santana.

We finally got in at 11:30. We scoped the area, accidentally tried to sit down in a VIP lounge, watched average Joe’s try to hit on pageant queens. Later we did the back and forth thing ‘well we could dance’ ‘we could people watch.’ Then we said what we were really thinking ‘my feet hurt and I’m tired.’ Don’t get me wrong, we totally stayed a respectable amount of time.

The next day we had more adventures including Cirque de Soleil and coming closer than ever before to getting our Mary-Kate and Ashley-esque vacation boyfriends. But I’ll include that and our airport troubles in the next post. That and our 10 minutes foray into gambling. Don’t worry, we picked up a ‘Knowing When to Stop’ brochure.

Demon eyes, I have better pictures coming later I promise.

A letter to Emma, BCC-ed to everyone else

To Emma:

Hey Girl, Yeah, I’m saying that so you’ll think about Ryan Gosling. Y’all are totally going to meet in Vegas.

Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about how you haven’t posted about your makeover yet. Yes, I know you’ve been busy. You went to Chicago for work, blah blah, I get it. Honestly, you do know no one cares right?

But you can’t really use that excuse with me because I also know that you had time to rewatch the second half of this season of Vampire Diaries with Julia. Cool it, I know you don’t want people to know that’s your favorite show, but you’ve forced my hand. Plus, it really is good.

So let’s talk about why you might not have written about it.

Could be that the blonde hair took you a while to get used to right? Maybe the comments from people about how it turned out okay and way better than what they pictured really did sting. Or it could possible be the ‘what the… what did they do to you?’ you got from your dad.

But you like it now and have gotten over thinking it looks fake. Even though at first I totally did agree with you that it looked suuuuuper weird with your dark eyebrows.

Maybe you’re still reeling from the embarrassment of your post makeover shots. And rightfully so. Listen, I get peer pressure. The lights and camera are on you, everyone is telling you to put your hand on your hip. What can you do? Oh, I have an idea! Anything else.

Listen, I know you’re in a tight spot, but you can’t make cracks about people posing with hands on hips then do it yourself. How are you supposed to have any credibility at all?!

Granted, you might be slightly overreacting, because there’s potential they won’t even use that shot, and honestly, the viewership of Miss USA probably loves the skinny arm pose. Just promise me they didn’t get one of you making a kissy face.

Another reason I’m thinking you’re hesitating is the fact that you finally got that punchy first anecdote for your chick book. Okay, I’m going to cut you off now, I already know you’re going to make one with a totally reputable cover so girls don’t have to be embarrassed on planes.

I’m thinking ‘crying in the corner of a dressing room while the camera waits for me to come out’ is actually better suited for a book than a blog. You’re just going to have to get over the trauma of them overlooking what your actual dress size is. Although you eating Chuy’s 3 times this week doesn’t really help your case… just saying. I know once was leftovers, that’s beside the point.

And I’m sure tiny little Teen Texas really did think you were hilarious and wasn’t using that as code for ‘not as pretty as me.’

Listen, your true friends will only be watching the show to make fun of you for saying ‘yay’ 20 million times and jumping for a High School Musical-esque pose at the end. By the way, good choice on doing the both legs to the side jump.

Pretty much anyone else watching it will probably think your lack of personality is totally normal.

Just quit being weird and start bragging about riding in a Rolls Royce, being basically a reality tv star, and getting your hair done for free.

Sincerely,

Emma

PS Please take another picture of yourself so that you can put up a normal one. I refuse to let you post a picture featuring a white leather studded dress. You and I both have watched the abc family movies and we know how this kind of online stuff can end.