You call them delusions. I call them DREAMS, people.

If there’s one thing I love in this world it’s awards season.

Last night the Screen Actors Guild Awards came on.

Of course I tuned in to E! so I could watch the red carpet coverage. Hold up, let me rephrase: Of course I tuned in to E! so I could squeal whenever a male celebrity that I’m in love with came on the screen.

It all began with Jon Hamm. I’ve made it no secret that I am in love with him. In fact, I will go so far as to say that I will not marry anyone if they are not him.

I’M NOT DELUSIONAL, I’M HOPEFUL AND OPTIMISTIC. RAINBOWS AND BUTTERFLIES ABOUND.

Anyway, I did some live tweeting while I  watched.

And look! I don’t discriminate against those fellas who aren’t Jon Hamm. I have so many other loves as well.

What I’m trying to say, ladies, is that you should never have to lower your standards or settle for someone who isn’t your Jon Hamm. Or in my case, the actual Jon Hamm.

Here’s the part where you think I’m crazy, but you catch my drift.

Right?

Lord help me.

The First Time I Felt Old

The first time I felt old was last night.

Britt and I found a vid on youtube of this guy talking about a dream he had about Selena Gomez. (Don’t ask)

We immediately comment on the attractiveness of this fella.

The video goes on and he’s so charming when he talks about his dream. (Which was totally PG, by the way)

Then.

It happened.

At the end he says, “Tomorrow’s my birthday, I turn 18.”

And I swear that time stopped for a full minute and walls fell down around us Inception-style.

This guy is only 17?! (Well, 18 now, but STILL)

HE IS MY BROTHER’S AGE?!

BUT…BUT HE HAD SOME NICE FACIAL HAIR GOING ON WHERE WAS THIS GUY AT MY HIGHSCHOOL? LIFE IS SO UNFAIR WHYWHYWHYWHY???

Notes from the Roomie

My roommate Brittany left me some notes the other day:

I’m one of those people that goes on IMDb and reads lists of the ‘Sexiest Movies of the Century’ or ‘Top Movies of Forever and Ever Amen’ and then makes lists of which ones I want to see. (Yes that says Bull Durham. WHAT? I love me some Kevin Costner!) But it’s looking like I won’t watch these because Brittany said not to. I do everything she says. She is my idol.

In case you can’t read it:

I am bored.

I want to meet some cute boys please.

CUTIE PATOTIES*!

“Oh hey boys!”

When Brittany is bored she wants to meet boys. Because they are not boring. When she steps up in da club she yells, “OH HEY BOYZZ!” And they flock to her. I wish I was like her. She is THE BOMB. She is also my idol.

*What are patoties? Little toddler tater tots?

She also believes in world peace. And peace signs with squiggle marks through them. And smiles. I wish I believed in world peace like she does. She is my idol.

Things I Don’t Like That Everyone Else Loves*

*And by “loves” I mean goes batshit crazy over. And by “don’t like” I mean do not go batshit crazy over.

1. Jersey Shore (Side note: I really almost typed “Jersey Whore.” By accident, I swear)

“Giant Squid Attacks Jersey Shore!”  is the Discovery Channel’s take on the whole Jersey phenomena. Nah, not really. A girl can dream, though.

2. John Mayer

Alright, I’ve seen this guy live. He’s good, but he ain’t no Clapton, y’all.

3. Dogs

It’s not that I hate dogs. I’m just kind of neutral about them. I see a dog and I’m all, “Oh look, there’s a dog. I hope it doesn’t jump on me.” Unlike some who see a dog and they’re all, “A;DLFJADSKJF DOGGIE YOU SO CUTE YOU SWEET LITTLE BALL OF FUR I WANNA TAKE YOU HOME AND LOVE YOU ALWAYS AND FOREVER LICK MY FACE.”

4. Sports (Not to be confused with athletes)

I know this is super broad. Basically, I don’t enjoy playing or watching sports. I do, however, enjoy the tailgating process. (You think I’m un-American? SUE ME)

5. Talking on the phone (Except to my Mama, whom I talk to every single day. If I don’t, I rock back and forth in the corner of my room for hours on end)

I never answer my phone. I am a HUGE screener. If you don’t leave me a voicemail then I deem your phone call unimportant and don’t return it. I’m such a jerk. I love you.

Oh, who am I to judge what anyone else likes and loves? While writing this post I was listening to Time Life’s Singers and Songwriters Collection.

This is fun for me.

Jeopardy! is my favorite show in the whole entire world. (More than Mad Men, Criminal Minds, AND Felicity)

Last night, I decided to play along with the other contestants.

I came in third place, knocking old Margaret out in the process.

I won $6800. (But technically, since I came in 3rd I only got to take home $1000)

Don’t believe me? Here’s my documentation.

That One Time I Smacked Someone

When I was in the third grade I slapped my best friend. At lunch. In the cafeteria.

Let me start from the beginning.

I was just sitting there, minding my own, eating my chicken patty on bun, when she starts picking on me about my current crush, Rufus*.

“You like Rufus! You like Rufus! Na na na boo boo!” she taunted. (She didn’t really say “Na na na boo boo,” but it fits. Let me elaborate. This is a memoir, after all)

So I hauled off and smacked her in the face.

We were both stunned.

I couldn’t believe I did that.

She couldn’t believe I did that.

Then lunch was over.

Lucky for me she wasn’t a tattler, so I didn’t get in trouble.

I felt so guilty about it, though, that I gave her my pink unicorn eraser.

Anyone else remember these? They came in all shapes, sizes, and colors. (Not just unicorns). We used to trade them and then line them up on our desks to show off our glorious bounty.

After that, all was right in the world.

And I haven’t slapped anyone else, since.

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent.