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 4, 2010

Reason 272

Pedicures. I could be way off base, Jason, but you don't strike me as a man who gets pampered on a regular basis. Well, my friend, if you have never spent 45 minutes in a vibrating chair while a mute Asian woman from some war-torn country lavishes your feet with love, you don't know what you're missing. I got my first pedicure about seven years ago so my naked toes wouldn't offend the guests at a friend's wedding. My feet were so happy (and sexy) afterward that ever since I have made it a point to schedule some time at the local nail salon every few months, even though Seattle only has sandal-worthy weather 4 days each year. In fact, just yesterday I hunkered down with three trashy magazines while a nail expert buffed and trimmed and massaged by calves until my feet were as soft as a baby's tushie and my nails were a seductive shade of red. It may be 60 degrees and raining outside but, darn it, my size tens deserve to look and feel fabulous, even if they're hidden from the world by a pair of athletic socks and some Pumas. So, the next time you've been standing around on set all day and your dogs are aching for some cheap relief, call me up and we can hit the nearest salon with outdated graphics hanging in the window and displays of fake nails on the wall that have been airbrushed with pictures of palm trees and cats. It may be the best twenty bucks you've ever spent, and if your macho guy friends tease you about your gorgeous toes just tell them your crazy best friend made you do it. Besides, they won't be laughing once they realize that all the ladies walking by are admiring your feet and turning up their noses at their nasty calloused ones.

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