Open for Business
Yesterday marked the beginning of two weeks of tennis play at the U.S. Open. I don't play tennis, I secretely wish that I did, but despite my inability I love to watch. And not only because I get to look at James Blake getting all sweaty, but because tennis players are some serious athletes. Tennis is a solo sport where everything depends on you and how well you have prepared and trained up until that point. There are no substitutions if you get a run of bad luck or tire out. I watched a match today where two eighteen year olds faced off in the first round and played a match that lasted four hours. FOUR HOURS! In the August heat in Queens, New York these boys put ice packs on their necks and fought off cramps and total exhaustion--and that was only the first match of the whole tournament!

I think I need to add tennis to my list of things that I want to learn how to do in my lifetime. The list is already long but this will be a pretty fun addition.

Rollin' On A River
I spent Saturday floating down the Guadalupe river in an inner tube. No really, I did. The girl who only goes camping if it involves a Holiday Inn and who prefers chlorinated water to just about any other type on earth spent over four hours floating down a river in the middle of central Texas. Rest assured, there was alcohol, and lots of it. My flask of rum was never so much appreciated as it was on Saturday (even more so than the time I stuffed it in my evening bag at my college sorority formal!) And there were friends, a whole three cars full. We chatted and ate cheese cubes and made fun of the other tubers. I bought a disposable camera to document the event, but really, after a few shots you realize that all of the pictures look exactly the same. So if I ever finish the role, maybe I'll let you see.

As Ginger mentioned, it was a definite gauge of my boredom barometer. And I'll even admit it right here on this blog of mine, I think I'd do it again.

Guilty Pleasures: The Summer 2005 Edition

• Laguna Beach
• 20 oz. bottles of Cherry Coca Cola
• Hogan Knows Best
• Wearing men's cargo shorts
• The Girls Next Door
• Staying in my pajamas until noon everyday, sometimes longer
• Smucker's Uncrustables Sandwiches
• "Don't Cha" by The Pussy Cat Dolls
• Late night movies for only $4.75
• ABC Family Original Programming
• Internet message boards and AOL instant messenger

And The Closer on TNT which is not a guilty pleasure at all because it is the best new drama of the summer, hands down. (I just needed to make that point clear.)

If you have any guilty pleasures to add to the list, go ahead and leave them in the comments section..it should be fun to see.

All Speeched Out
So I gave my speech yesterday to the group of about a thousand tired and overwhelmed new students and parents as well as a whole heap of professors pissed that their summers are over. And guess what...it went really well! I didn't mess up once! Yay for me. My joke in the middle didn't go over so well which means that my career as a sketch comedy writer for SNL is probablly an even farther off dream than that of becoming a broadway star. A big thanks to all of you who proof read and sent good luck vibes my way.

One of the great perks of the day, aside from the free university brunch ticket, was the networking I did. I was sequestered upstairs in this room with all of the other on-the-stage speakers for about an hour before the event which gave me plenty of time to make a few contacts and hopefully get myself closer to a job. Because so far, all I have to show for this summer is a dwindling bank account and new found knowledge of the coolness that is The Glimore Girls.

I'll trade you my heart for your snowboard
Last night I donned a pair of heels and a cute little pink and black lacey skirt for a cocktail party in honor of a friend's safe return from the wilds of America. We ate delicious food and sipped red wine and chatted about all sorts of things. One friend is designing for a fashion show, one was taking a trip with her mom to Boston and the guest of honor had finally figured out men. That's right, she figured them out and she shared the findings with all of us. And I think she got it right.

While spending the last month living in Colorado she hung out with a large group of guys. The rugged, outdoor type who clean up in business suits Monday through Friday and then mountain bike or do extreme snowboarding on the weekends. They were regular guys who didn't have girlfriends, but they had eachother and a shared love of sports. She recalled a time when she was sitting with these men watching them scream with excitiment at the television as people defied gravity, and logical thinking, doing sport stunts. She marveled at the way that these men expressed thier heartfelt emotion about people they didn't know but who were willing to put it all on the line for twenty seconds of extreme euphoria. For a few seconds of your heart beating fast and your palms getting sweaty and people praising your bravery and skill. Cheering along and sharing in on those brief moments that turned into lifelong memories.

And that's when it hit her. She is willing to risk all of that too--the sweaty palms, the praise, the adrenaline--but not for a new snowboarding trick. She is willing to risk it all for love. She is willing to dive in and give her heart to someone for a lifetime, something that lasts a whole lot longer than a quick ride down the side of a mountain.

And that was it, maybe it is just that simple. Maybe men are willing to take a chance for a few minutes of joy but the long term payoffs aren't even thrown into the equation. Whereas women are willing to take that leap off of the side of the mountain if someone will be there, not only for the moment it happens, but for the months and years afterwards when the glory and the euphoria have faded and all that is left is two people holding eachother's hearts with all of the care they can muster.

It just makes so much sense. I mean, I'm willing to trade my heart for your snowboard. Actually, I'm willing to let you keep both if you promise that if either of them breaks, we'll take it to the shop together.

Save the Date
A few weeks ago I mentioned that I had been asked my undergrad alma mater to be the featured speaker during the new studuent orientation. I agreed. In my head the date had been marked as August 27th. I realized today, as I stumbled across the original e-mail invitation, that I actually have to give a speech this Sunday, August 21st, in front of roughly a thousand people and I have yet to even think of what to say.

I swear, sometimes I can be a complete mess. I have some serious work to do.

Drive-Bye Comments and Defending the Blog
I have said before that my friend Sarah is completely uninterested in the world of blogging. She never reads them and she is totally okay with that. She doesn't even mind that we harass her for never knowing what we tell the internet because she expects to hear it directly from us. I have tried to tell her that actual conversation is so twentieth century but she still insists upon speaking. On the road trip to New Orleans the ladies in the car-Porsche, Aston and myself, Royce*-sort of ganged up on little Mercedes and made her promise to start reading the blogs. I forwarded her the proper links and by the next day she had done a blog drive-bye leaving the appropriate monicer in each comment box signaling her visit. We all laughed and praised her for the visits knowing damn well that she will never return.

Like so many people, people I choose not to associate with (except her of course), she doesn't get the beauty of the blog. She thinks it's weird that we read about people's lives that we don't even know and on more than one occasion has scoffed at our lengthy conversations about Dooce's baby or Smitten's wedding or Fish's dating dilemnas. She doesn't understand how we "have time to read all of that stuff, I'm too busy to just sit at the computer and read blogs."

But she kept her promise and finally made a little time. She stopped by the blogs to see what all of the hype was about and read a post from each of us. When I asked her if she saw the birthday pictures I posted of her on the site she said that she hadn't. I asked if she read beyond the first page and she earnestly replied, "Well, I looked at the side like you told me, but there were just too many months of stuff!" And this is why, despite her complete disdain of the blog world, I love Sarah to pieces.

*okay, so we made up fake names in New Orleans. all car names as you can see. it was pretty funny too considering each time we used the wrong name we had to take a shot. which would explain why all of the cars were in the garage by midnight.

25 Years of Me

Thanks to my friend Lindsey, I am well aware that not only is today the annual celebration of my birth, but today's particular year marks the official age at which my body starts to kill itself. From here on in it's all Depends undergarments, Fixodent denture cream and the non-stop loss of bone mass. Oh, and cake, lots of cake! And maybe a Lemondrop martini.

Thanks to everyone who has helped with the celebration--your thoughts and gifts are much appreciated!

A Big Easy Birthday

We made it back to the Lone Star State from the Dirty-Dirty relatively unscathed. There were a few scratches and bruises (and maybe a couple embarrasing moments some of us might like to take back) but I would say that the trip in honor of my birth was a definite success!

After a brief, yet lucrative display of ghetto fabulousness with the rude hotel desk associate (they tried to cram all four of us in a room with one bed--I'm

sorry, have you met me? I'm Ebony, and I usually get what I want) we moved into our second hotel room and we headed out for the night.

The hurricanes at Pat O'Brians almost did us in by about eight o'clock on Friday night...which might explain my extreme case of the giggles! Never fear, being the party girls that we are, and after a brief intermission, we got ourselves together and went back out for more fun. We did it up right until about midnight, when our tired and old bodies were done in from the partying and we had to hit the sack. Some of you might thank that lame, me, I like to look at it this way, when the drinking starts at four in the afternoon, hitting the bed before midnight in your hotel is better than hitting floor somewhere else.

We managed to pull ourselves together on Saturday in time for some shopping and a delicious lunch at NOLA, one of Emerill Lagasee's restaurants. The meal was divine and had we read the fine print and realized that they charged per coke, it would have been even cooler. (Live and learn I guees!) We took a trolly ride to the Garden District and visited one of the above ground cemeteries. And despite the fact that it was already closed (thanks for not telling us that tour guide lady!) I was able to get some great pics. The locals let us in on a New Orleans birthday tradition that involved pinning money to my shirt and letting the locals add to the stash. I only collected a few bucks but some of that was from a homeless guy who also got one of the jazz bands in Jackson Square to play me Happy Birthday. (Homeless people in New Orleans are the nicest people, I blame it on the absinthe!)

Saturday night was great. We seeked cover from a giant thunderstorm under a bus stop awning and then stopped in a bar for a drink and a bull ride. Yup, that's right, I rode a mechanical bull--and my thighs still hurt!

By Sunday we were definitely ready to come home. There are way too many stories to tell on this here blog but rest assured, the trip lived up to the hype. Babs, Sarah, and Steph are some of the greatest people and I am super glad that they were willing to take part in my weekend-long birthday celebration.

I do believe that turning 25 isn't going to be so bad. Yeehaw!!!!

Road Trip
I leave for New Orleans tomorrow. I have made reservations at a hopefully tasty place in the French Quarter for lunch on Saturday. When the woman asked if we were celebrating any special occassions like a birthday I told her yes, mine. I hope I get chocolate cake. I am stealing my brother's digital camera for the trip so there will be pictures. Lots of pictures. Well, at least one for all of the twenty-five men I must smooch in honor of my quarter century of basic puritanism in that department. (We'll see if my attepmt at hussiness pans out).

Stay tuned for pictures when I get back on Monday. The fun, it is inevitable.

I have told you before, I keep lists for everything
I remember the night that we made the lists. It was a typical girls night a few years ago at the house on Bluestone. We had been sipping Texas wine and had already managed to polish off a couple fo bottles by the time the pen and paper came out. As most women do when in a group, the conversation inevitably found its way to men. I am pretty sure that we were all single at the time and well aware that the men who would someday have us would be damn lucky indeed. So we all made lists, needs assements as we called them, as to what qualities were absolute must-haves in a mate. My list, perhaps unsurprisingly, is still just what my 22 year old heart desired. I have always been the kind of girl who knows what she wants.

Now before anyone gets all high and mighty that I can't expect any one person to fit into this exact imaginary mold that I have created, I shall save you the trouble by openly admitting that I know that. I am well aware that relationships are full of compromise and tolerance and all of that stuff but for the sake of weeding out the definite no-gos, a list helps. I am also aware that some of the stuff is, for lack of a better word, stupid. But remove all of the filler and the basics are important, for any relationship. And I bet it is fair to say, although you may not have it written down, you all keep one stored in your memory bank just for safe meausre.

Anyway, here is mine, written in no particular order.

-dark hair
-employed
-likes/tolerates my family
-romantic
-touchy-feely
-good dancer
-likes cultural activities
-likes just vegging
-enjoys/appreciates good food
-loves to laugh
-trustworthy
-gives me butterflies
-NICE FEET
-gift-giver
-makes mundane activities fun
-must tolerate Barbra Streisand (and other musical divas)
-must appreciate seriousness of party planning
-humble
-thoughtful
-notices details