I'm in Paris

Because it's Friday...

If you haven't seen this before, watch it first before moving on to the next one.

Ok, all done?

Here ya go. Knock yourself out.

Part Deux

I walked inside the restaurant and looked all around. I could see no one who looked even remotely familiar. Honestly, that made me a little worried. Up to now, I had thought it MUST be someone who knew me, who for some reason was not programmed into my phone.

I did a quick walk-through of the restaurant and then remembered that there's a small dining room in the back, hidden from the main dining area. I walked down the hall...rounded the corner...only to be confronted with...

Four girls from my church.

Yes, dear readers. It was a let-down for me as well. Why could it not have at least been four guys from my church? The Lord works in mysterious ways.

Of course, we all laughed and I told them that they had managed to actually creep me out a bit and we had a grand time chatting and catching up.

After visiting with the girls for a little while, I left the cafe and headed over to the nearby coffee shop to grab a hot chocolate and do some reading and journaling.

I walked in the front door, saw who the only person inside was and very nearly turned around and walked out.

Too late. He saw me. There sat Jeff, the suspected culprit, innocently sitting there waving me to come over and join him. I walked over and he accused me of stalking him.

Oh the irony.

I had gone from stalkee to stalker in the span of an hour.

Stalker, or Stalkee?

Last night I decided to enjoy dinner in the beauty of an unusually cool Houston evening. I went to a cafe that I knew had outdoor seating. I placed my order and went outside to find a table. That's when I ran into a guy, Jeff, who I hadn't seen in a long time. We chatted for a little while and then I walked around the corner to find a quiet spot to relax.

My food arrived and about five minutes later my phone buzzed with a new text message. It was from a number I didn't recognize. The message said "I like your green shirt! What's for dinner?"

I was startled and looked all around to see if someone I knew was nearby. You see, I was wearing a green shirt and clearly I was having dinner. I could see no familiar faces. I quickly texted back asking "who is this?"

There was no reply. I thought hmmm....maybe Jeff somehow managed to get my number and is messing with me. I quickly sent off a text message to our mutual friend Todd, asking for Jeff's number so I could compare it to the number of my "stalker." He promptly replied and I compared the numbers against each other and discovered that Jeff was NOT the culprit.

Just then, my phone buzzed again. The "stalker" had replied to my identity query. "Come inside and see. I've been admiring you from not so far away for a while now."

Ok, I'm officially weirded out.
I wrote back and said "that's kinda creepy."
The reply: "But I'm a lot of fun."

So being the kind of girl to take the bull by the horns, I walked inside the restaurant to see what awaited me...

Musicians Need Not Apply

I've come to a realization. I can't date musicians. Now I'm not talking your run-of-the-mill dabbler who just likes to pick out a chord now and then. They're harmless, really. Sure they don't really know what they're doing. But as long as they're not obnoxious about it, it can be kinda cute or at the very least mildly amusing.

But the much more insidious character in my dating playbook is the Passionate Music Guy. He may not be a musician by trade, but he is one by heart. He gets a husky tone to his voice when talking about his favorite musicians. He gets a gleam in his eye when he sees a new instrument. And he pulls out his trusty guitar and starts playing, humming and crooning when he wants to relax and find peace.

Now to many girls, this sounds like a recipe for romance and passion. To me, it sounds like a recipe for spending time with a boyfriend who is only half paying attention to me.

Call me selfish, but I'd like you to look me in the eye and put down the guitar while we're talking. I'd also appreciate it if you could refrain from bursting into song every time I say a word that triggers a musical reference in your mind. And realistically speaking, since you're a musician, asking you not to do those things would be like asking Carrot Top not to be an annoying freak.

So that's why I think it's best that you, Passionate Music Guy, and I...just be friends...

FINALLY!

I knew this whole short thing would pay off eventually. After years of being referred to as Shorty, Short Stack, Lil Bit, Half Pint and the like...I am vindicated!

New research on the science of the brain suggests short people may experience "now" faster than tall people.

I'll let that sink in for all you tall people who are a bit slower...

At the Park

I saw a man with a tramp stamp.

The end.

I need a do-over

I'm pretty sure it's a bad sign when it's only 11am and my day has already gone from bad to worse. I rushed out of the house this morning to be greeted by a monster blocking the path to my car. This is the state I left him in, twitching still directly in my path. I shrieked as I leaped over him to get to my car.

After the monster incident, I was running late to meet a friend for breakfast. After breakfast I had some errands to run. At one point a guy in a blue minivan flagged me down and motioned for me to roll down my window. "Your back tire is really low," he informed me. Sigh.

I got out and checked the tire. Sho nuff. It was bad. Fortunately a repair shop was right around the corner, so I stopped in and found out my tire is shot and, for a mere $150, health and safety will be restored.

While waiting for the conclusion of the tire debacle, I decided to practice good time management and step across the street to get my eyebrows waxed. Now for those of you who aren't familiar with the process, you are taken into a small room where you lie on a bed and a woman puts warm wax on your brows, then presses strips of cloth into the wax and rips them off. Ok, that's all well and good...except that this woman decided to use my chest as her staging area for the process. She placed all her little strips of cloth on my body and every couple minutes grabbed one...causing me to jump in surprise at the unexpected and presumably accidental fondling.

I gotta tell you, at this point I'm on the edge of my seat waiting to see what else this day will bring...

Thoughts from City Hall

Wednesday is Starbucks day. I only allow myself one Starbucks visit per week, and what better way to get myself through city council meetings? This morning I ordered a grande non-fat, no-whip mocha. They put whipped cream on it. What's a girl gonna do...?


Every week I walk into city hall and the police officer sitting at the security desk says "Good morning, Pretty Lady" as I walk by. He wasn't there this morning. I missed my morning compliment.


I sit at the media table along with the other reporters. There's one wacky photographer who always has the craziest clothes on and makes wildly inappropriate comments. A little while ago he loudly burped. I glanced over at him and happened to see his wallpaper on his laptop...of a woman in a skimpy dress booty-dancing...and I do mean booty-dancing.

Thievery!

On Friday, I placed a grocery sack in the company fridge. Said sack contained a bunch of grapes and two single-serve tapioca pudding cups.

Today, the grapes remain. The pudding cups have apparently walked away.

The Evil Within

Sometimes I really like to mess with people. I mean I get all giddy just thinking about little jokes and pranks.

Last night I was at a party and felt the jokes just bubbling up out of me. My good friend, we'll call him Tim Possibly, was at the party. He was chatting with some mutual friends, so I walked right past him, looked at one of the girls he was talking with and said "Have you ever thought about how the name Laurie Possibly sounds?"

The group went silent, then all the girls started cracking up laughing while Tim Possibly stood there sputtering...um..uh..uh uh ummm...wha?

Oh sometimes I am just so BAD!

All you need is a contrite heart

Long, but worth it

Hand-Written Notes

Actual note received this weekend:

Dear LJ,

I'd make out with you if it weren't for my girlfriend. Sorry.

Sincerely,
Guy Friend

Oh the French...

As mentioned before, I'm taking a trip to Paris with my friend Amy. She emailed me today with some information about hotels she was researching. She said in the course of looking up hotels, she's be quite amused by some of the "selling points" of available rooms.

Our favorite one is the hotel website offering comfortable rooms complete with television AND video cassette recorder. Free video tapes can be found at the reception desk.

Good times...