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.



Sunday, April 4, 2010

Reason 125

Easter baskets. The two things I can count on every year, without fail, are my mother going hog wild in the present department on Christmas and stuffing a basket full of treats for me on Easter. Even when I lived out of state my generous mom shipped baskets to me, fake grass and all, so that I could celebrate Jesus's magic trick by pigging out on chocolate coconut nests and pawning flourescent Peeps off on unsuspecting roommates. Just as she offered to make you a special stocking if you ever visited for Christmas, Jason, my mom has volunteered to gussy up a wicker basket for you in case you drop by for Easter dinner once we become friends. She's pretty hardcore when it comes to tracking down the perfect treats for everyone at the table (this year she went to 5 different stores in search of a dark chocolate bunny after our dog ate the one for my brother), so if you tell her what you fancy she'll morph into a bloodhound and sniff out whatever your heart desires. It's also likely you'll get a scratch ticket that won't be worth anything, a nifty pair of socks (keep an eye on my sister-in-law - she stole my pair one year), and plastic eggs crammed full of jelly beans no one ends up eating. Sometimes she outdoes herself and gets something that won't even fit in your basket, like The Club. That was my bonus gift the year I was living in an apartment in the shady part of town. Nothing says let's celebrate the resurrection of Christ quite like a giant red lock intended to keep thieves at bay. Thanks, Mom, for every Easter basket you've assembled for me and all of the ones that are yet to come. And thank you for finally figuring out that no one in our family eats Peeps. It only took 30 years, but who's counting?

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