Jeez people! I've been in jail since Saturday night! What did you think happened? Did you think I ran away with him?
OK. So I wasn't really in jail. And I didn't really pinch Anderson Cooper's ass. But what a story that could have been.
I must ask you all to forgive me in advance because I have a lot of crap to talk about and it's all over the place so you might need to take your ADD medicine to follow all this. Or maybe give it to me. That might be your better option actually. Because then my next post might make more sense. It's just a suggestion. If I start getting prescription drugs in the mail, I'm going to assume it's ADD meds. So please don't send me viagra or anything.
And here we go.
As you may know, my husband got tickets to this really swanky deal called the Richmond Forum. They have all kinds of guest speakers each season. They serve a super yummy dinner at the Omni downtown (mostly it's super yummy because I didn't have to make it), and the guest speaker says a little somethin' somethin' to whet our appetites for more so that we all stick around after the free dinner to go and listen to them talk. The actual talk is held at the Mosque (I refuse to call it anything else), and then it's back to the Omni for dessert and coffee. Keep in mind that all of this is open bar. Nice, right?
So on Saturday, I got all gussied up to go with my sweetie, and down we went to the Omni. I, unfortunately, had to be on my best behavior, because Jamey was entertaining clients. May I just say, do you know how incredibly hard it is not to snort when I laugh? I had to use my polite laugh. Boooooring. I was a bit worried when we first got there, because when we made our way upstairs to the reception, I made a beeline to the wine table and got a glass of merlot. (I was totally disappointed they did not have a Cabernet, but, oops. . .I digress.) So I turn around and the two other females in our party each had a glass of. . .ginger ale. I thought I had made a major snafu and that this group didn't drink at all. To my relief, one of the males in our party had a beer. Whew. I thought I was going to have to gulp several glasses in a covert-style operation.
Anyway, we went in and were getting to our table when, I SAW HIM. And I must say, although still handsome, Anderson Cooper wasn't as big and buff as I'd imagined he'd be. He was shorter than I thought. Then I said to the other ladies that I thought he looked a little pale. He needed some color. I thought about going up to him and suggesting that, but some other schmuck had brought some painting down and was showing it to A.C. So I thought I'd better not because I didn't want to seem as idiotic as the painting guy (who then after showing it to him looked totally disappointed as he put it back in his garbage bag and carried it around with him the rest of the night. I wondered if he was trying to sell it. Then I wondered if I should have brought some of my mom's paintings to offer to A.C. Maybe he would have liked them better.)
We ate dinner, and then they had pre-dessert, dessert. Cheesecake. The most fabulous cheesecake I may have ever eaten. And dammit, the two ladies with me wouldn't finish theirs. I wanted to not only finish mine, I also wanted to lick the plate clean. SO UNFAIR. I think I might have cried a little bit when we left the table. Anyway, then we went downstairs to catch the rides to the Mosque for the actual talk with A.C. Now this is my one complaint about how they do this whole Forum thing. They take us there in - busses. Chartered busses. I think it would be much classier to go in limousines. I'm just sayin'. Because let's be clear here - we are all dressed up. We look nice. We are WITHOUT CHILDREN. I know it's hundreds of people. But a bus? Really? So it would be super expensive. SUCK IT UP RICHMOND FORUM. But don't charge any more for tickets than you already do. K?
Sigh. So we get to the forum and A.C. talks, yada yada yada. It was really good. And we did have really super great seats. I could have thrown my bra at him if I'd wanted to. But no one else did, and I'm not that bold, plus I'd only had the one glass of wine. I was also afraid if I threw something up on stage, he'd have flashbacks of his recent trip to Egypt, and then he'd flip out and run away, and then everyone would boo and throw stuff at me instead. So I sat with my hands tucked under my legs to resist the urge. And we listened. He finished and we clapped and all that stuff. Then we were carted back on those lousy busses. But then when we returned, we got to meet A.C.! There's a line and the ropes going around, and someone meets you right before you see Anderson. Then you get up there and someone takes a picture of you together with him. I swear, it's just like a grown up version of standing in line waiting to see Santa Claus.
So Jamey and I are waiting and his clients have nixed to attend this part. And so now that I am free to act like myself, I look over at Jamey and say, "I want to ask him something." Jamey says, "What?" And I say, "I want to ask him to put Yvette and me on his show as guest talk-show hostesses. Cos we'd be great at that." And Jamey shocks me when he says, "You should." I say, "Excuse me?" because I figure that I didn't hear him right. I briefly consider suing the Richmond Forum for making me go deaf when everyone was clapping for A.C. But then he says it again, "You should." Coooooooooool husband.
We get up to him, and I do, in fact, ask him if Yvette and I can be guest hostesses on his show. And he laughs and says, "Yes, absolutely." Jamey even tells him it would be a hit and that Yvette and I would be naturals at it. I'm all like "Go Jamey!" And I'm still all excited as we get autographs and pictures. And then we are carted away after that so the next people can tell Anderson what they want for Christmas. I mean, talk with him and get his autograph. But then I realize that Anderson did not get my contact information. I just assume that his researchers are tracking us down right about now. I mean they are all into news and finding out about people and stuff, right? But I thought they'd be better than this because it's Wednesday, and I haven't heard from his peeps yet. Weird.
3:33pm: PS - I wanted to ask him the Bloggess's question about how he would be handling the upcoming zombie apocolypse. But seriously? I hardly had time to ask about guest hostessing with Yvette. We were herded like cattle. But I totally would have asked had I had more than 30 seconds with him. Questions about chatting with him and my BFF had to come first, my readers. I am sure you understand.
Again, as you all may or may not know, I frequent the city of Richmond and its surrounding counties with what I call BC outfits, otherwise known as Birth Control outfits. It's one of the main reasons why we do not have any more children than the one we have. Because frankly, my husband takes one look at me in my jeans that have seen better days, my sweater from the late 80's or early 90's, my mock turtleneck, and my Doc Martin brown shoes, and any sexual urges he may have had are obliterated in about a nano-second.
Or, if I am not in that uniform, I am wearing sweaty yoga pants, a grungy workout shirt with stained arm-pits, a sweat-shirt that a small elephant could fit into and have my sweaty/greasy hair pulled back in the smallest pony-tail ever with pieces falling out haphazardly everywhere.
Not a pretty picture, right?
So he told me on Sunday to go shopping. Nicely, but I'm sure inside he was probably saying, "Please go get some new clothes before I have to tear my eyes out of my own head." So I went. And I was all excited. And I felt like I was being taped for What Not To Wear. Because I couldn't decide on anything. And I left the first day with. . .get ready. . .a handbag. A super nice handbag. A grownup leather handbag, just like I've always wanted. But still. A handbag.
I came home feeling gross and defeated. So I tried to enlist the help of my girlfriends for the next day, but none of them could help me. So I did the next best thing. My friend Mackenzie is super fashionable. So I emailed her pictures of everything I tried on. Even down to shoes, because that's how little I know about fashion. And she'd yay or nay to them. It was like virtual shopping with her. And it was fun. Until she couldn't get back to me. And I made a decision about an orange tweed v-neck sweater. I bought it. And right after I left the store and was on my way home, she texted me and said "Absolutely not." I should have known, because I thought it was really cute.
So I need fashionable peeps, an entourage, really, to take me shopping. I will now live by the mantra - "Stylish friends don't let completely unstylish friends shop alone." I still have some stuff to buy. But until someone can go with me, I am forced to continue wearing my grubby black yoga pants. With my brown Doc Martins. (I know. See? Fashion-challenged.)
Today is my husband's birthday. Joshua and I went out yesterday to buy him his birthday present. That was a mistake. Joshua proceeded to basically tell Jamey what we got him. (Parenting tip - Never trust a four year old to understand the full concept of a secret.) So Jamey played surprised this morning when he opened his gift which was some little guitar tuner thingie that cost really a ton considering the box was smaller than a matchbox car.
I am surprising him with attempting to make an ice cream cake for tonight though. You might be saying, "Well, now you've done it. He's going to know because he's going to read your blog today." Nah. No worries. He's busy. So I hope he likes it. I may take a picture of it and post it tomorrow.
Creative Junkie Interview
And finally! I have interviewed another of my most favorite bloggers, the Creative Junkie! She's awesome, and I plan on publishing the interview either tomorrow or Friday. Just need to get a few tweaks to my verbiage before and after the interview down. And she's got to approve it. But see? You have something to look forward to.
I apologize again for taking so long to get this post out. It's been crrrrrazy. Plus, I haven't wanted to tie up the computer in case A.C. was trying to instant message me. When is he going to get in touch with me?
Happy day folks!