Someone told me the other day that I should have my own TV show. It was a compliment in a you're-weird-enough-to-be-interesting kind of way.
Anyway, I was trying to figure out what makes a blog entry approachable enough that you want to post a comment. I know people are reading this page based on my counter, but no one is commenting! (Well, except for my loyal commenter, JT.)
I find Nice Guys Finish Last a great blog (see right) because he talks about his quest to find love...and get laid. When you get married, I think you turn off any signals for that kind of stuff. Of course, I never really had signal receptors. I never knew if a guy found me attractive and in recent years I have been told about signals I missed.
I completely missed signals in high school, which is usually a mecca for hormone-driven interest. I guess I was too busy reenacting Goodfellas and What's Eating Gilbert Grape with my best friend Jay on her little brother's Little Tikes tape recorder. Me=a dork.
In college, there was one guy who called me and invited me down to "his place" and luckily I did not go. I found out later from my friend that he was attempting to cheat on his girlfriend (is calling and flirting cheating?!), but he should have known better than to pick me. Me=a dorky virgin.
Speaking of dorky virgins, I wanted to try out for The Real World when I was in college. I figured I'd have the virgin/cute but dorky category all filled in, but I decided not to. I don't think they have that category on that show anymore.
Sometimes I wonder how I found Dan. Me=still a dork, no longer a virgin! YAY!
Today I yelled, "I DON'T CARE! PEOPLE LIE!" when Bethany started to instruct me on the differences between a memoir and an autobiography. It was fun and I thought since it was so rude that she would instantly hate my non-Christian attitude, but I doubt it. She's like a weed and you know how hard they are to kill. My point was that every author lies about something when writing about their lives. Do authors really remember conversations they had when they were six? I don't think so. Besides, Frey probably never thought anyone would read his book.