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.



Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Reason 286

The male perspective. My best friend Steve is amazing, but he doesn't always answer his phone when I need a bit of advice on inexplicable behavior exhibited by people packing penises. Or is it penie? Anyway, just yesterday I wanted to know, from a dude's perspective, if I could throw away any hope that a certain charming, intelligent and funny man I had been corresponding with on-line would reply to me last email. I sent it a week ago and had heard nary a peep. This gentleman and I had written back and forth at least three times and spent almost an hour IMing, so my obvious reaction to his lack of response was WTF?! Sadly, Steve didn't pick up his trusty iPhone when I attempted to solicit his opinion and I ended up slumped dejectedly on the couch for at least thirty minutes, running possible scenarios as to why the cutey-pie was avoiding me through my head. My first thought was he was trapped under something heavy, which is a line stolen from one of the best romantic comedies ever made, When Harry Met Sally. I concluded this probably wasn't feasible - the man must have been attacked by sharks instead. Well, Steve did call me back (interrupting what had been a fairly festive pity party) and promptly burst my delusional bubble - the man wasn't going to email me back. If he was interested he wouldn't wait a whole week to answer my soul-searching questions, like which direction should toilet paper be loaded (so it pulls from the top, obviously) and whether he condoned the use of excessive condiments. If we were friends, Jason, I would have you on speed dial and any time I needed a testosterone-fueled perspective on the crisis at hand I would ring you up, quick as a bunny, fill you in on all the sordid details of my life, and wait with bated breath to hear your thoughts. Until that day comes I guess I will have to make due with Steve and his sporadic proximity to his cell phone. Please befriend me soon - the fate of my love life rests in your knowledgable hands. That and I wouldn't mind knowing why guys have no qualms about shifting their junk around in public. Really!

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