My Marilyn Moment

Have you ever had one of those moments that is so mortifying yet hilarious at the same time, that you just don’t know what to do? I had one of those yesterday- my Marilyn moment.  Anytime I wear a dress or skirt to work, I am weary of the wind and make sure if I step outside on my lunch break, I hold my skirt close so it doesn’t blow up and expose my skivvies….

Yesterday, I was walking out of the building to my car at 4:00 pm, after the workday was over. I was in front of an older gentleman in a suit and tie, whom I rode the elevator down with. He was a few steps behind me, so when I got to the door leading outside, I held it graciously, waiting for him to catch up. Just as he reached the door and thanked me for holding it, a huge gust of wind blew my dress up and I could feel the breeze blowing on my legs and butt. I scurried to release the door and hold down my dress but it was too late, I was already exposed. I glanced at the man behind me, laughed to myself and told him “you’re welcome” for holding the door (acting like he didn’t just see my butt). What I wanted to say was, “you’re welcome for the show!” Whoopsie Daisy…

Stalking In Sin City

I won't name any names, cite any exact dates or even admit that this is true (wink wink) but I am going to indulge you in a story of a little trip I called 'Stalking in Sin City.' This girl I know, we will call her Karen, was totally in love with this boy at her college and although they had a few classes together and said hello to each other in the halls, Karen never made it to the next level with this boy. I'm convinced it was because Karen gained the freshman thirty which didn't leave her body until after her senior year, but who am I to say why this relationship never blossomed. It wasn't me after all....

A few years after graduation, Karen and her friends moved out to Los Angeles and one day while at work aka stalking her college crush on My Space or AOL Instant Messenger (this was pre-Facebook) Karen found out that he was going to be in Las Vegas that weekend with his friends. Karen told her best friend about this situation and her friend, let's call her Felicia, convinced Karen that they had to drive to Las Vegas and 'bump into him." As Felicia put it, "what do you have to lose?" After Karen answered, "my dignity," she told her that this may be her last chance to see him, while he was single and while Karen was skinny. Shallow girls, I know. But who knew? Maybe this was fate (not stalking) and it was meant to be?

So Karen and Felicia 'called out sick' from work the next day (Thursday), booked a room at the cheapest hotel in Vegas (Circus Circus) and drove four hours to Sin City that night, excited, nervous and trying to convince themselves that they weren't crazy. When they arrived at their hotel room (not the nicest in the city considering it was only $60/night) they opened the door and found the maid laying on the bed watching TV. Startled, he jumped up and said hello. "The room is just about ready, you can come in if you want!" he said as the girls looked at each other in shock. They decided to wait in the hall until he was done with his show, or rather cleaning.

Karen and Felicia learned that the boy was going to be at the Coyote Ugly bar in the New York New York hotel that night and as they got ready, Karen started to freak out a bit. What if he didn't remember her? What if he told her that she was a crazy stalker? Or what if they never even saw him? Nonetheless, Felicia told Karen that they didn't come out here for nothing, gave her a shot and told her to hurry her ass up. After about three shots each, the girls headed to Coyote Ugly, Felicia walking in front like the proud matchmaker and Karen dragging her feet behind like a kid not wanting to go to school on her first day of Kindergarten. Next thing they know, they are standing outside of the bar and Karen spots the back of her crush's head and naturally freaks out and hides behind a nearby puppet show. Don't ask...it is Vegas and there was a puppet show apparently...I wasn't there. Frozen like someone who just saw a ghost, Karen couldn't move and as Felicia came towards her she said, "this is like you taking me to the Grand Canyon and me not getting out of the car!" And although Felicia had a point, Karen was terrified and ran back to the hotel (or the nearest bar), never seeing her crush and never knowing what could have been. Although Felicia was mad, the two are still best friends and everything worked out for the best. Karen and Felicia are some crazy girls! I wish I could have hung out with them.... ; )

My Nail Rant...

Here it goes, my over-the-top nail rant:

Thanks to my friend Mary, who told me I should be a hand model, I have been overly conscious about my nails lately while I am trying to build my hand modeling portfolio. No joke- I have convinced my boyfriend that once he buys a nice camera, he is going to help me take all the pictures for the portfolio, you know- me holding a coffee cup, playing on the iPad, gently clutching keys to a Ferrari and holding a wad of cash- the typical posters you see in the nail salon! I am going to be JP Prewitt from Zoolander. I have always been good about doing my nails, keeping them well polished and making sure if I get any smudges or chips I re-do them immediately. But there a few things that no matter how hard I try, I cannot avoid!

• I always seem to do my nails simultaneously while doing laundry. I'm not sure why I think it is a good idea but I end up either having to mess up my nails when I switch my clothes from the wash to the dryer, or keeping my wet clothes in the washing machine too long while I allow my nails to dry that I have to re-wash them because they smell like mildew.

• Even if my nails are 100% dry because I painted them 2 hours ago, I still walk around, not touching anything because I am convinced they are still wet.

• No matter how hard I try to not touch anything during the painting process, I still manage to get that one tiny hair that came out of the cotton ball I used to remove the previous paint stuck in my nail polish and magically it dries quicker than the speed of light so I have to redo the entire nail.

• It is inevitable that if paint my nails on Monday, by Tuesday I will have at least one chip in my nail which I will try to fix but end up getting annoyed and repainting all my nails with a new color. And don't even get me started on the French manicure- those babies chip while I am screwing the top back on the nail polish bottle.

Head Over Heels

This is the story of how I lost a pair of heels that were very near and dear to my heart....this is a sad, sad story (don't be fooled by my smile in the picture). My friend Kari had a gorgeous pair of yellow heels up for grabs one day when Beth and I went over to her house for a BBQ last summer. The only catch? We both wanted them and they fit both of us nicely. What were we to do? Kari's Aunt Marge cleverly announced that we should have a walk off for the shoes. So, that was exactly what we did. Kari turned up the salsa music, everyone stood around and Beth and I each took our turn down the 'runway.' I confidently strapped on those heels, worked my hips to the salsa music, made people laugh and won those shoes fair and square. Don't listen to Beth when she says it was a tie and she generously handed them over to me!     ; )

I loved those heels. They were everything you wanted in a heel and more. Strappy, yellow, comfortable and pretty. I wore them to my sister's wedding, to my friend Mary's Bachelorette party in Las Vegas and to her rehearsal dinner in Palm Springs. Palm Springs- that is where they would meet their demise and I would have to bury them (but not their memory) and head back to Los Angeles without them.

It all began the night of the rehearsal dinner. Everything was going well- I was getting many compliments on the shoes, they were still comfortable and I was having fun. I thought my shoes were also having fun but I was wrong. Dead wrong. As I walked arm in arm to the shuttle with my fellow bridesmaid, Lety, I felt a weird wobble on my left foot and I sunk down a few inches. What the hell? I looked down and my heel had snapped clean off the shoe. I screamed, held the heel up in the air like Mufasa did to Simba in The Lion King and cried out, "has anyone ever met someone who lost a heel like this?" Just as I expected, everyone in unison answered, "who else but Erin?"

RIP Yellow Guess heels. You will be missed.