Guilt Post

It's definitely time to write something. I've gotten almost as bad as Godfrey. For the past week, I've felt like the convenient little "Blogger" button on my web browser has been giving me the evil eye. Like it knows it's being neglected and it doesn't like it.

My birthday was last week and being the very popular person that I am, I got TWO separate nights of celebration and TWO birthday cakes. And wouldn't have had it any other way. Because turning 23 is so unspectacular, it needs all the fun help it can get.

Despite being absolutely brain-dead in the blog posting department, I'm in a fantastic mood. For no one particular reason--it's been a cumulative effect.

1) It's actually SUNNY in Nashville for the first time in 45 days. (No one bothered to inform me that this damn city is the Seattle of the South.);
2) I found an abandoned unopened 20 oz Diet Coke at the back of our fridge at work;
3) The gay man standing in line behind me at Kinko's told me I had a fabulous haircut;
4) Our boss informed us that we actually DO get Memorial Day off;
5) Jenn and my flight leaves for Charlotte in T minus 40 hours...more about this tomorrow....

Stalkee

Our secret is out... Nashville was recently ranked the BEST city to live in by Kiplinger's Magazine. So now the rest of the country can take their "guitar slinging yokels" perception of us and shove it up their asses. We may be a little country, but now our city officially beats everyone else's city hands down. So, booyah.

Here's the article.

On an entirely different topic, my office traveled to Knoxville to assist at a client's board meeting and got put up in a Hilton (my room had a king-size feather bed!) this week. After attending Monday night's sit-down dinner and reception, several of us decided to head back to the hotel and prop the bar up.

The hotel had a massive inner courtyard, with a bar being the focal point of attention. There were a number of hotel rooms that looked out onto the courtyard--but most had their curtains closed.

Jenn and I were sitting there with our boss when we noticed a man standing at a window three floors above us, staring at us behind a single sheer curtain. All the sudden, he peeks a camera out between the curtain and starts taking pictures...he obviously thought we couldn't see him. I waved at him, which seemed to startle him a bit. He then disappeared into his room and we resumed our conversation--mainly about what kind of perv he must be.

Several minutes later, our boss spotted the creep-o descending in the glass elevator and I got chills. He walked in and sat down several feet away from us. And just sat there--on his cell phone--and stared at us.

I briefly considered taking out my camera and snapping pictures of him, but didn't want to be found cut into pieces in my hotel bathtub. So Jenn and I calmly finished our drinks and went back to our rooms--where I proceeded to lock both padlocks and checked that the phone line was still working.

I'd obviously never cut it in Hollywood...

Going Once, Going Twice...

I recently learned first-hand why alcohol is served by the boatload at charity functions...and it wasn't pretty.

As a little "you're such great employees" surprise, my super fantastic boss bought Jenn and I tickets to the Bachelor/Bachelorette Date Auction being hosted by Dr. Travis Stork (to benefit childhood leukemia research). It was his first public appearance since his show...and we had seats a mere 20 feet away from him.

Pure bliss.

The dang thing took forever to get started, so we of course helped ourselves to the bar. Because there's nothing like some free wine to get a star-studded evening off to the right start.

By the time we took our seats and the lights dimmed, I couldn't tell if my flushed face was a result of the excited anticipation filling the room...or the three glasses of wine I'd consumed while waiting.

They had a live-feed of all the stars getting out of their limos, Bachelor-style. Travis got out of the last car--a Mini Cooper style limo--with a little boy suffering from leukemia. They held hands up the red carpet and walked straight into my heart. It was touching stuff.

Here's a picture of Dr. Stork (looking quite dashing in his suit) on the presenter's stage:

The presentation of bachelors and bachelorettes drug on a little long...so I had no other choice but return to the bar for more libations. Fortunately, I made it back to my seat (cocktail in hand) in time for Travis to introduce the next bachelor to be auctioned off--his roommate:
Needless to say, I perked up. I was feeling good--and Dr. Geoffrey Hayden was looking good. Somewhere in the back of my tipsy mind, I figured that if I won a date with him...maybe I'd get to meet Travis. And that's when I started bidding...

...and got up to $900 before reality set in.

Luckily, I was outbidded by an old woman in a leopard print halter. Because as fast as she was hiking up the price, she deserved him.

Alas, I left the auction drunk and "dateless", but Jenn managed to snap a slutty picture of me against Travis' limo:
I'd say that's a good enough memento from a memorable evening--no small talk or empty bank account required.