Jason says "read this blog!"
Just when I'm about to sign the DNR papers for this blog something comes along and inspires me to write another post. One of these days Jason Segel will come to his senses and beg me to befriend him. I just hope he isn't waiting to see the 365th reason. It may take years.



365 Reasons Why...An Explanation

Well, hello there (said in a very sexy voice). You're looking quite lovely today. Welcome to my blog. Feel free to take off your shoes and get comfortable, maybe leave a comment or two. This started out as kind of a funny thing to do after I blew a phone conversation with Jason, but I've found I really enjoy writing every day and researching new and interesting things about my future BFF. In January I met Jason at a comedy club and the few words we shared only reinforced my belief that he and I would get along famously. As a dear friend of mine recently said, "why wouldn't he want to be friends with you - you're awesome!" Perhaps the 365 reasons in this blog may just convince Jason of what I already know to be true: separately, our awesomeness is great; combined, it may be enough to take over the world. If you want to be one of my esteemed followers, simply click on the 'follow' button toward the bottom of the page. Come on, you know you want to.



Saturday, September 20, 2014

Reason 311

Big days. I'm sure you don't realize it, Jason, but you were present for two of the most important days of my life. Since I'm one of those obnoxiously modern feminist types who questions traditional gender roles, I decided I couldn't wait for my then-boyfriend to get his act together and propose; I'd be a genuine spinster before he got down on one knee and professed his undying love for me. Not because he doesn't adore me, but rather because he is a procrastinator to the nth degree. So, I took the bull by the horns and, in front of many friends and a few strangers who had had too much to drink, I sang Lewis a medley of songs that reflected the evolution of our relationship, ending with "Marry Me" by Bruno Mars. As I'm sure you've surmised, my dear friend, he agreed we'd make a fabulous married couple (and we do) and then we celebrated with cupcakes and a very well-received rendition of "Life's a Happy Song" while the accompanying movie clip played behind us. So you see Jason, you were actually present the night I got engaged. You also made an appearance on my wedding day. Once the vows were said (and I must say they were delightfully funny), rings were exchanged, and Lewis planted a big, wet, lickery kiss on me, we blissfully waltzed down the aisle flanked by family and friends to the smooth stylings of one Mr. Jason Segel, BFF extraordinnaire. That's right - our wedding song was "Life's a Happy Song". Seemed like a better fit than "Dracula's Lament". Now every time that ditty shuffles up on my iPod I get a ridiculously dopey grin on my face and am transported back to that overcast day in July when we threw the best darn wedding most guests had ever been to. I mean, bacon was served. Need I say more?

I'd like to think I've supported you on a few of your big days, too, Jason. I drove over twelve hours to be in the audience the first time you performed in the San Francisco SketchFest and I was there a few hours later when you performed a second time. I've also attended quite a number of opening nights for your movies. I'm sure my $12 tickets made a huge impact on the box office stats for "Forgetting Sarah Marshall", "Despicable Me", and "Bad Teacher", I probably convinced at least two other people to see those flicks after posting my impressions on some social media site. This afternoon you are making an appearance at the Barnes & Noble at the Grove in L.A. and, while I won't physically be in the room with you, I will most definitely be thinking about you and sending positive vibes your way. A few days ago, when I found out you'd be signing books on the same coast I happen to live on, I actually consulted my calendar and checked on airfare to your hometown. Then I realized it would be a tad insane and stalkeresque to fly to L.A. on a Saturday morning, rent a car, maybe chat with you for one minute while you scribbled your name in my copy of Nightmares!, and then hop on a flight home that evening. I love you, Jason, and a plate of chilaquilles rojas from the Mexican joint at the famed Farmer's Market next to the Grove would've made my tummy extremely happy, but I just can't justify the trip. Also, I already have plans for tonight to celebrate my dear friend Tamara's birth and it would be really lame to bail on the unavoidable craziness that is bound to occur in the presence of  nine, acapella-singing gay men. Despite my absence, I'm sure you'll have a stellar turnout, Jason. I wish you all the luck in the world and pray that your hand doesn't cramp up from all the autograph signing you're bound to do. If you happen to drop by a bookstore in Seattle to promote your new book I promise to be in the front row, grinning maniacally and totally creeping you out. That's just what best friends do.

Friday, September 19, 2014

Good on ya'!

I am happy to report, Jason, that I finished Nightmares! last night and thoroughly enjoyed it. Congrats on writing a funny book with a great message that doesn't treat kids like they're idiots and will also appeal to adult fans of kid's books. My copy will be added to my school's library collection so many others can root for Charlie as he battles his demons, and you can bet your sweet bippy that I'll be talking it up. Looking forward to the second book, sir!

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Reason 310

A match made in heaven. It's been a busy couple of weeks around here, Jason, and it looks like you're keeping busy too, with all of the interviews you're giving for your new book. A huge congratulations, by the way! Between filming awkward sex scenes with Cameron Diaz and wrapping up the final season of HIMYM, I am quite impressed that you managed to co-author a children's book. Now, unlike you I haven't been maniacally pounding away at my keyboard as of late (which is pretty obvious from my lack of blog posts). I have, however, filled many hours trolling Pinterest for eye-catching bulletin boards, sifting through piles and piles of highly regarded picture books, and committing new biblio-centric acronyms to memory. Why would I submit myself to such delightful pursuits, you ask? Well, after teaching squirrely 6th graders for nine years I decided to shift gears and become a teacher-librarian at an elementary school. Holy cow, I bet you didn't see that one coming...unless you know me really well and know that I am obsessed with children's and YA books and basically spend all of my free time at the public library and have stacks and stacks of unread books covering the floor of our spare bedroom and always pack at least 10 books when I go on vacation and have the word "read" tattooed on my wrist and, well, you get the picture. I guess my acceptance of this new gig isn't much of a shocker after all. Anyhoo, it seems rather serendipitous that I should become a book peddler for the elementary set around the same time that you're peddling a book to that demographic. See? We're a match made in bibliophilic heaven! Feel free to stop by school any time for an author visit, Jason, or send a boatload of autographed copies of Nightmares, or drop in via Skype for a quick interview during check out time. The kids won't mind if you interrupt my riveting read aloud, although you'll have to top my wizard outfit, which includes an exquisite hand-whittled wand made by my adoring husband. Well, I should probably wrap this up, throw on my Muppets pajamas, snuggle down under the covers, and start reading your book. I'm looking forward to taking a peek into your psyche, Jason, and wish you all the best on this new venture of yours.
picture source: http://schlitterblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/peanutbutterlover.jpg

Sunday, June 15, 2014

Reason 309

Home visits. My husband and I went to Disneyland last week and decided to squeeze a morning of LA exploration in between days at the happiest place on Earth. We strolled along the Santa Monica pier, held our noses as we explored the La Brea Tar Pits, gorged ourselves at the oldest farmer's market in the city, and swung by Jim Henson Studios for a photo op in front of the gate (which, let's admit, was probably the most exciting thing we did that day). It turns out that Chateau Marmont is a mere few blocks from Kermit's home and since I know you live within stumbling distance of the famous hotel, Jason, I thought it only appropriate to swing by for a quick visit. Well, it turns out it's awfully difficult to find someone's house without the actual address. The Internet was no help at all, only generating images of you exiting a door while holding dry cleaning or some such nonsense and pics that were posted before you purchased your house, which provide absolutely no kind of neighborhood context clues. Harumph. It would be so much easier on me (and my ridiculously patient husband who indulges my every whim) if I had my best friend's home address. Not only vould we have had a lovely visit, Jason, but we could have invited you to join us at Disneyland the next day. Who would pass up such a glorious opportunity?! I don't plan on being in the LA area any time soon (because, honestly, what Seattleite purposefully spends time outside in 85-degree weather), but the next time I'm heading your way, Mr. Segel, I will expect an invite.

Saturday, February 22, 2014

Reason 308

Vanity. I am not what most people would consider to be a vain person. Looking gorgeous has never been a priority and I admit to being flummoxed by the billions of dollars women spend each year on make-up, hair care, weight loss products, and plastic surgery. Even on my wedding day, when I was photographed incessantly, all I put on my face (other than a big dopey grin) was some mascara, eye shadow and lip gloss. This isn't because I am a natural beauty who dazzles everyone she meets with just a wink and a smile. Nope, I would just rather put my time, energy and money towards other things, like reading the latest YA masterpiece, perfecting my chocolate chip cookie recipe, and singing ridiculous impromptu songs to my dog until he runs away in fear. Even at the height of teenage insecurity, when my face looked like the bumpy, reddish surface of an alien planet and my hair would have made Paul Mitchell drop dead in horror, I happily directed the spotlight to me, going as far as playing Tuba Ruba in front of strangers at parties (here's a link to the commercial, Jason, in case you aren't familiar with this, um, incredible game from the 80's: click here to have mind blown). Scary, isn't it? And to think I wrapped plastic tubes around my body and writhed around like a drunken fish out of water in front of other human beings. Like I said, vanity isn't really my thing, which will probably come in handy when I'm hanging out with my future bestie with some testes, one Mr. Jason Segel, and we are tailed by soulless paparazzi. I will have no problem looking like an idiot on camera in an attempt to keep those stalkers from snapping less than flattering pictures of you scratching your bum or picking your teeth or...whatever it is you do when you think no one is looking. The one thing I will ask for in return, though, is your willingness to have a couple of photos taken of the two of us together. You see, the one picture I own of me with you, my dear friend, was taken several years ago when I weighed about 25 pounds more than I currently do and, while my heart is filled with joy every time I glance at it in the frame with The Great Muppet Caper album cover you signed for me, I look rather puffy and tired. Besides, you're looking much healthier these days too, so it only seems right to have a more accurate representation of our fabulous selves hanging in my TV room. We can enjoy one moment of vanity, I guess, and then promptly return to acting like fools, no matter who happens to be watching.

Sunday, January 5, 2014

Reason 307

My awesome ringtone. A few weeks ago I finally fulfilled a long standing dream and made The Muppet Show theme song my ringtone. Now anytime someone calls, whether they be friend or foe, I do a happy dance around the kitchen, the gym (which can be dangerous on a treadmill), the grocery store - you get the picture. In fact, sometimes I purposefully let the call go to voicemail because I am so entranced by the fabulous ditty. What more proof do you need that our friendship is written in the stars, Jason? You certainly shouldn't need, say, 364 other reasons. I even promise to pick up my phone when you call...although probably not until the last 5 seconds or so. Not even someone as considerate as I am can be expected to turn off that brilliant tuba intro!

Monday, November 11, 2013

Reason 306 (kind of)

Before you get all freaked out, Jason, and call LA's finest, let me be clear: I'm not actually watching your house. In fact, after today's events, I'd say you're the one who's stalking me and I'm kind of ok with that. As much as I adore you I've been fairly overwhelmed lately with work, the adoption process, social engagements, general adult responsibilities, and planning a kick-ass, post-Christmas trip to Disneyland for the whole darn family, so please forgive me for not giving you even a tiny fraction of my attention. Sure, I laugh at your lame fish-with-no-eyes joke every time I see the ad for this season of HIMYM (can CBS edit together a new clip already?!) and once in awhile a friend mentions reading some juicy tidbit about my future BFF in a trashy magazine, but in general, Mr. Segel, you haven't been a blip on my radar. That is until today. It all started when, like a much funnier and smoother-skinned Freddy Krueger, you interrupted my REM cycle, dazzling me in Dreamland with your charm and boyish good looks. I'm not sure what actually happened in the dream, other than we hung out like old friends - well, old friends who also like to make out - but it must have been pretty excellent because when my husband woke me up I scolded him for cutting our time together short. Around lunchtime I stopped by Nordstrom Rack to buy some new unmentionables (called such because the word "panties" shouldn't be mentioned by a single living soul, I'm sure) and when I texted my hubby about my purchase he replied with some nonsense about you modeling the sexy underpants. Now, normally I wouldn't think much about you making an "appearance" twice in one day, but then while I was driving around town this afternoon my iPod shuffled up not one, but TWO different songs sung by the one and only Jason Segel. Considering I have just under 1,000 songs loaded onto my iPod and only 3 of them are performed by you, Jason, I had to conclude the universe is telling me something (and that my mp3 player has a weakness for Muppet-themed tunes). So, here I sit, pounding away at my keyboard, thinking lovely thoughts about someone 1,135 miles away whom I don't really know, but wish I did. Whatever you are doing at the moment, Jason, I hope you feel fulfilled and truly happy. As corny as it sounds, there are people in the world who think you are the bee's knees, despite only meeting you for a brief, drunken second in San Francisco so many moons ago. I hope that one of these days we can enjoy a sober tete-a-tete and that I can adore you in person.