John Mayer Won't Date No::::Fat Girl::::Diet

Crossroads

2010-02-28T18:31:00Z

Have you ever found yourself unexpectedly at a Crossroads in your life? The way you had thought you were going suddenly changed into a new, unexpected direction and your head sort of reels from the blow and you stagger around, uncertain of what is happening? Sometimes it’s amazing. Sometimes it feels like you’ve been kicked in the head. That’s where I am.

For the past three years this blog has been a major part of my life. In September of 2006, John Mayer sort of metaphorically picked me up, kicked me in the ass and set me on a new path. I am now, and forever will be, so incredibly grateful to that kid for all the amazing, UTTERLY amazing things that have happened in my life since then.

Somewhere along the line there came a point where he stopped being this cutout superhero who never really existed and just became John for me. Over the years, I feel I can say (just a little bit) that we developed a sort of mutual affection for each other. Somehow. There was a point even, last fall, when he looked me in the web cam (eyes) and told me that he picked on me every bit as much as I picked on him…because we’re family, and that’s what family does. He IS my family, because somewhere along that line I didn’t fall IN love with him, I sort of just came TO love him (including all his lumps, bumps, follies and fucked up parts because he’s human), in that pure sort of way like a parent loves a child, or a sibling loves another. I’m not really sure exactly when it happened, it just sort of DID.

Some of his friends took me in, this stranger they didn’t know. In so many ways they have also became my heroes, my family, and I’ve grown to love them all so very, very much. Some people don’t understand that, and that’s fine. Sometimes a hero is just an ordinary person who reaches out and gives you that unexpected hug, right when you needed it. That’s how I came to love Tony. Not because of who his friends are, what he does for a living or the places he goes, things he owns. None of those things matter in the least to me. I love Tony because in the unexpected moments in my life, he’s shown up, pulled my pigtails and teased me into remembering to fight the good fight. Just like all the really GOOD big brothers do. And I am fortunate enough to say, I have a story like that for each one of them. Laurie, Melvin, Bob and Gina, Alessandro and Benedetta and most especially Carl, Wenyee, Chad and Tony: all of them have touched me deeply, profoundly and personally in ways I can’t even begin to express. I love them for who they are as people and as part of my strange and extended family. It wasn’t something I expected. Even though I’m really more like the awkward second cousin everyone thinks is kind of funny but doesn’t really know what to do with.

So then (awkward!) here I have this blog about John Mayer, and how (double awkward!) he won’t date a fat girl. So, over the past year, I stepped away, mostly stopped blogging. It felt strange. Of course, Twitter didn’t help. Everything I wanted to say in 140 characters or less. It became easier to step away from the blog.

Truthfully, I’m not the girl I was 3 years ago. And truthfully, I don’t care who John Mayer dates as long as she makes him giddy with happiness. See, I sort of found that person who made ME giddy with happiness so how could I possibly want anything less for a man I have such extreme respect and affection for?

So, here is where we come to that Crossroads.

I don’t want to date John Mayer.

It wasn’t John that I fell for; it wasn’t him that made me giddy, made my heart race or kissed my socks off. It wasn’t John who made me feel, for a few minutes of my life, like I was the heroine to my very own romance story. It was someone else.

So I think the time has come, where this blog comes to an end or at least the name of it. It’s time to close this chapter of my life and move on. I don’t know what the next chapter holds, and it scares me. So. Incredibly. Much. But I have this tiny flame of hope that the AMAZING friends I have made, and the extended family I have grown to love, will be there as I take the next step. That is, if I haven’t somehow managed to completely fuck that all up.

And John? If you’re still there…I don’t want you to think this is good-bye. Family is supposed to stick together, right? There’s a piece of my heart with your name tattooed on it you know, and tattoos don’t just wipe off, they’re permanent.

This isn't a good bye. Sometime in the next week or so I'll be starting up a new blog.

Don't think of this as an ending. Just a new beginning.

Love-
Mara

The James Sprong Chronicles: City Lights pt. 3

2010-01-30T16:33:00Z

Vixie got a leg under herself and gave a heave and a twist with her hips, flipping the sleeping Sprong onto his back. She blew the hair out of her eyes and looked over at him. He looked so peaceful lying there she just wanted to climb into his arms and snuggle in. She sat up and caressed the side of his face with the tips of her fingers. Gently, she traced the arch of his eyebrow with her thumb and her heart gave a little pang she tried to pretend she didn't feel. Sighing, she leaned down and rained little kisses on his brow, his temple, a freckle on his cheek, the little laugh crease that could have been a dimple and the slight dent in his chin.

She looked around at the mess of clothes that surrounded them in amazement. As she picked up her clothes and put them on, she contemplated what to do about the naked man sleeping on the floor. The heavily drugged, naked man on the floor. Vixie double checked the ring she wore, making certain it was normal again. It looked innocent enough, a black onyx oval with a Celtic-design band. By looking at it, you would never know there was a secret compartment under the onyx, or that by a flick of a finger a hair-thin needle popped out, injecting enough tranquilizer to put down a small rhinoceros. Or a 6'3" man, Vixie thought with a grimace.

She looked down at the still form of Sprong, and sighed. I can't just leave him like that, she thought and began picking up his clothing. Dressing him proved to be quite a challenge, by the time she was done she was sweaty, panting and annoyed. She hoped to hell he appreciated her leaving him with some dignity, as she was pretty damn certain he wouldn't have done the same for her.

She went back to where she had found her gear bag and whipped out her small hand-held, pulling up a schematic of the building and triangulating her position. Good. She actually wasn't far from the where the chip she needed to steal was supposedly being contained. As she looped the bag over her shoulder she glanced back at Sprong and felt a pang of regret. Turning, she set off for the room one floor up knowing she only had limited time before the tranq wore off.

::: LATER :::

Sprong came-to with a roaring headache and sent a silent prayer to God, promising never to drink again if the pounding would just go away. He rubbed his hand over his face and froze, it was the scent that woke him fully. The smell of HER on his hand that made him sit up so abruptly his head spun. Sprong's eyes rolled back as he fought the nausea and just concentrated on breathing for a moment.

Cautiously, he cracked a lid and looked around. Nothing was out of place, he was even fully dressed, which surprised him. Had he not known better it was as if he had simply laid down and taken a nap. He lifted his hand to his face, oh no—no mistake, that was definitely her smell on his hands. He started smiling before he could help himself. So, where WAS she and what the hell had she done to him? The last thing he remembered she had bitten his ear and he had tackled her to the floor. She'd grabbed his ass and... AHHHHHhhhhh. He vaguely recalled feeling a small prick before the darkness had descended.

The chip! He swore and staggered to his feet. He felt like his shoes were filled with lead as he ran up the stairs and down the hall. The office wouldn't have looked disturbed to anyone but a highly trained eye. As he looked around he noticed several things just slightly off. The paperweight on the desk, for instance, had been moved 1/8 of an inch to the left. He looked at the portrait of the old man on the wall and walked over to it. Pressing the mechanism on the bottom of the frame, the door swung open to reveal a safe. Sprong sighed as he spun the dial, already knowing the chip inside was gone. He reached inside...and pulled out the chip he had been so certain was gone. He blinked. Something wasn't right. He pulled the iPhone out of his pocket and opened the image he had taken only that morning and compared the two. He was right! The chip in his hand WAS different, the green stripe was more yellow on the one in the picture, and that wasn't just from his screen.

He punched a few numbers on the phone, calling his assistant. "Yo!" was the response.

"Did you manage to decode the data stored on the chip yet?" Sprong asked. He could practically SEE the eyeroll Lorenzo was surely giving him.

"Boss," Lorenzo said. "Why do you pay me the big bucks? I figured it out several hours ago, didn't you get my messages?"

Frowning, Sprong looked at his phone and flipped over to text messages. Sure enough. 3 messages, all from Lorenzo. He grunted.

"Ah, boss?" Lorenzo asked. "You alright, dude?"

A vein flexed in Sprong's temple. "I'm fine," he said as he finished reading the last message. "So, the data on here really didn't have anything to do with tire manufacture."

"Nope! Highly classified US weapons schematics, just as you suspected, boss," Lorenzo said, sounding puzzled. "Are you SURE you're OK, man? You don't sound right."

Sprong sighed, feeling he'd been had. "No, really, I'm fine. Go ahead and send me the other specs and I'll get the chip updated."

"Sure, sure! It should already be on your phone boss. It was the attachment on the last message." Lorenzo said.

Sprong double checked his last message, realizing there was, indeed, an attachment. "Maybe I just need a vacation from cocky assistants." he grumbled, pulling the USB attachment to update the chip out of his pocket and snapping it into the bottom of his phone. Placing the fake chip into the attachment he again made a quick prayer that this would work. Red and green lights flashed at him for a moment before he finally heard the faint "beep" indicating the update was complete. He pulled the chip out and placed it in the safe, anxious to get back into his office to have a look at what data the fake chip had contained. He was fairly confident no one would even notice the chip wasn't the original.

::::: LATER :::::

Sprong walked out onto his deck and looked out over the city lights as the sun started to rise. He stood there, watching the sun turn all the buildings a molten red-orange as he turned his recent discovery over in his mind. The data stored on the fake chip had been identical to the fake data he himself had loaded onto it. Data he had received from his superiors at the Pentagon. Data no one else should have had, yet, there it was. And what, exactly was the REAL data? More importantly, who's hands was it really in now?

He was going to have to track down Vixie Tritten.

::::: stay tuned :::::

The James Sprong Chronicles: City Lights pt. 2

2010-01-26T04:20:00Z

WARNING: THIS EPISODE CONTAINS EXPLICIT MATERIAL.

Vixie pounded the keys in frustration, shit! WHY wasn't this code working? She had paid VERY good money for this security code, it had BETTER work! The keypad blinked green. Success! Cautiously she opened the door and sprayed the room with her smoke can. Red beams appeared everywhere. Double shit! she thought. She continued to swear under her breath for a few minutes while rummaging in her kit bag. Luckily she had come prepared.

She whipped the beam of her flashlight around room until she found the laser box on the wall across from her. The opposite direction she needed to go. Of course. She packed up everything but the flashlight and the smoke can and laid down on the floor, praying her lunch hadn't bloated her TOO much. Carefully she inched her way across the room, carefully spraying and checking for lasers as she went. So of course, she missed the little lever sticking out of the floor. Didn't even feel it pull against the hood of her sweatshirt. She DID, however, feel it when the floor suddenly gave out below her and she started to fall.

Vixie gave a small gasp and twisted. It was pitch black, she couldn't see a thing. Suddenly, rubber was every where. Cords of it, like she had fallen into some sort of bungee cord pit. She tried to grab on to something, anything, but only managed to get her hands and wrists entangled. She realized she was in some sort of container and the container was moving. Triple Shit! Suddenly, she was sliding and realized she was being dumped OUT of the container. Frantically she wriggled, trying to get upright or at least slide feet first. She managed to turn around just in time only to find her hands caught up in some sort of pipe works above her head, her feet just barely touching the ground.

She wriggled again, hopping on her tip-toes trying to get her hands disentangled when she started to hear the masculine chuckle behind her. Vixie immediately stopped and searched for the source of the voice. He moved, graceful like a cat, from where he had been reclined against the wall. Vixie's heart began beating faster, she recognized the width of those shoulders. It was Sprong. What the hell was HE doing here in a tire manufacturing plant in the middle of the night?

"What the hell are YOU doing here?" he asked, as if picking up her thoughts. Vixie jumped a little and wished she had listened to her fellow assassin and sometimes partner, Liam when he told her to start wearing a mask. Like it would have mattered anyway, she thought, he would have just ripped it off my face.

Sprong walked in a circle around Vixie. He wasn't just surprised to see her, he was shocked. He felt his cock grow hard at the thought of her bound the way she was and shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. What WAS she doing there? Aspiring computer consultants from the Midwest did NOT end up breaking into manufacturing plants in the middle of the night in New York City.

He stopped in front of her and crossed his arms to prevent himself from touching her and frowned. "Well?" he asked.

Vixie decided to try for innocent, "I'm consulting here," she said as she blew the hair out of her eyes, "I had forgotten my backup drive, then I got lost in the building and the next thing I know, I'm falling down this rabbit hole." She narrowed her eyes, "What the hell are YOU doing here?" She said accusingly.

Sprong smirked. She had guts, he'd give her that, but what she DIDN'T know is that the manufacturer had hired his firm to protect them from espionage earlier that week. At the time, he'd thought the CEO just paranoid but they had been willing to pay his fee so he had accepted. Screwing up the contract on the Senator's wife had been very costly, and he'd been willing to pick up security work to fill in some gaps. Looks like the paranoid CEO wasn't so paranoid after all.

"Quit smirking at me you asshat and get me down from here," Vixie said, trying to kick Sprong in the shin. She missed her target and manged to spin herself around with the momentum. Scrambling for footing she gave Sprong the evil eye as he stood there and laughed. "You're going to burn in hell one day, you know that, right?" she said while trying to flip the hair out of her eyes.

Sprong reached out and steadied her by the hips, the delicate sway of her large breasts had just started to be a little too much. Just as he'd begun thinking he'd made a horrible mistake by touching her, he realized her breathing had quickened, along with the pulse he could see clearly under the translucent skin of her throat. Interesting. Deciding to be bold, he slid his hands down her hips to cup her ample ass and pulled her against him. Vixie gasped as she felt Sprong's erection pressing against her. Instinctively, she arched her hips and tried to reach for him before she realized she was still hanging from the ceiling. She let out a small sound of protest as her bounds pulled her arms back. Sprong closed his eyes a moment, praying for control and with a feather-soft touch ran his lips down her throat in a series of butterfly kisses before stepping back.

Vixie was pissed. What the HELL was wrong with her? She was acting like a dog in heat for Pete's sake. She opened her mouth to tell him to go straight to hell but he covered it with his large palm before she could get a sound out. "Shhhhh," he whispered with his eyes closed. "Give me a minute."

Give HIM a minute? Vixie thought, Oh he did NOT just say that!! She bit down on his hand, hard.

Sprong's eyes flew open as the pain hit his brain and he yanked his hand out of her mouth. She sent him an evil grin of a challenge and it made him burst out in laughter at the picture of her. She stood there, hands tied above her head, her mussed hair falling into her eyes, black hoodie covered in grey dust and looked every inch the queen. Spong's heart gave a little lurch, which he ignored. He grinned back and walked a circle around her. "You realize," he said, "I could completely seduce you right now. I could have you begging me to take you in about 15 minutes."

Vixie's eyes followed him as he walked the circle, but she refused to turn around as he walked behind her. Her back felt scorched from the heat of his gaze and she tried not to let him see he was right. She snorted, "In your wildest fantasies Sprong." and tossed her head back to get the hair out of her eyes.

Sprong reached forward and tucked the offending lock behind her hear as he bent forward and whispered, "Are you sure you don't mean yours, dirty girl?"

"You couldn't get me going if you TRIED," she said and cringed inwardly. WHY did she have to keep challenging him like this?

Sprong reached up and pulled down the zipper to her hoodie, a tank top and lace was all she had on underneath. Vixie rolled her eyes and sighed deeply, feigning disinterest as she looked over his shoulder. She only gave a slight tremble as he ran his hand up her stomach under her tank and circled her ribcage to cup her breast. She closed her eyes as his thumb popped her erect nipple out of her bra and gasped in surprise as she felt his tongue on her overly-sensitive nipple. Vixie tried to regulate her breathing as he continued to lick and suck but wasn't having much success. Suddenly, as he bit down on her nipple he pulled her closer and arched her in a bow from her restraints. A mewling sound inadvertently escaped her and Sprong growled as he thrust against her.

Vixie shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, but before she could form a protest Sprong moved to her other breast and flicked open the front closure of her bra, allowing her breasts to pop free. He tipped her back a little further to draw her breast deeper into his mouth as he rolled the nipple of her other breast with his fingers, gently pinching. Vixie growled with the frustration of not being able to touch him back, she bucked her hips against him and he growled again. Suddenly, she had an idea.

Tipping back just a little further, Vixie gave a little jump and wrapped her legs around Sprong, clamping his hips with her knees she started rubbing against him. The soft material of her yoga pants rubbed against his stiff denim, sending shivers down her spine. Vixie swallowed and tried not to whimper. She wanted him inside her NOW, damn him.

Sliding his hand down to cup her hip, Sprong began thrusting against her in earnest. He wanted to drive her over that edge. Intently, he watched the emotions and sensations flicker over her face and noticed her hands clenching on her bonds in a silent rhythm he began to match. Vixie was losing it. She tried opening her eyes to focus on something, anything that would help her maintain control. She could feel his trembling, he wasn't far from the brink either. As she opened her eyes they locked gazes and she felt herself start to drown in the soft brown of his eyes. They were a deeper shade, like molten chocolate, and their intensity made her lose her breath. She felt herself come in a wave of pleasure that absolutely engulfed her. She concentrated on his gaze, letting him anchor her as she stopped breathing and let the orgasm overcome her.

Sprong felt the moist heat of her as she began to come and nearly lost control as he stared into her crystal blue eyes. Watching the ecstasy cross her face he lost his breath a little at the beauty of it and trembled. "Say it," he whispered.

Vixie's head rolled against her arms. "God, please," she begged, "Just take me."

Helping her feet touch gently on the floor, Sprong reached up and yanked the cords off the pipe above her and she tumbled into his arms, as he stumbled back against the wall. Vixie grabbed handfuls of his hair and was pulling him back against her before Sprong could even take a breath. He reached up and grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled back sharp enough to make her gasp but not enough to hurt and Vixie felt herself get wet all over again. He kept the pressure on as he kissed her deeply and helped her struggle out of her yoga pants. Vixie realized her hands were still tied together when she went to reach down to touch him and couldn't. Yanking her arms apart she heard a faint ripping sound as her bonds suddenly sprang free.

Sighing in contentment, Vixie ran her hand down Sprong's taut stomach and began tugging at his jeans. Chuckling at her urgency, he quickly stripped himself of the denim. Vixie whimpered as she felt his erection spring free into her hand. Gently, she cupped him and squeezed as he groaned and began nibbling on her collarbone and palming her right breast. She cupped his ass in both hands and began licking her way down his chest. His head rolled back and forth on the wall as his hand clenched in her hair. Kneeling, she took his cock deep into her mouth as she wiggled her tongue back and forth on the underside, sliding him in and out of her mouth. Sprong tried to catch his breath but found he could only breathe in short gasps. He felt her mouth on his ballsack and gasped loudly as she sucked it, gently knuckling the underside. Sprong slammed against the wall and tried with all his might not to come at that moment.

When she felt he couldn't hang on much longer, Vixie licked her way back up to his mouth. Nibbling on his full lower lip, she pulled him down to the floor and he filled her with one strong thrust. Pulling her knees high and tight against her, Vixie let him set the quick pace. Once again, the intensity of his gaze slammed into Vixie and she lost herself against him as the orgasm over-took her for the second time. It was so intense it was as if her very soul burst out of her skin to bounce around the room and yet she couldn't look away from his molten-chocolate eyes. Vixie stopped breathing as she watched his own orgasm overtake him. He shuddered as his face became the picture of serenity and for a moment she thought he looked like an angel as his lids fluttered closed.

Vixie laid there, panting in shock. Well, she thought, THAT was NOT supposed to happen. The devilish look returned to Sprong's eyes as he gazed down at her with a smirk. He leaned into her ear, "I win." he whispered.

Vixie suddenly grinned into the crook of his neck. "That's what YOU think!" she whispered, just as she bit his ear...

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

What will happen next?? Will Vixie steal Sprong's heart? Or did he already win hers?

Where will they go from here?

Email me your suggestions to bhg at fatgirldiet dot com or DM me on Twitter!

What does "Plus-Sized" mean??

2010-01-21T15:24:00Z

What IS "Plus-Sized"? It's been in the news quite a bit lately and the fashion industry is FINALLY starting to take notice. All this after Glamour magazine printed some articles using "plus-sized" models. Models that are STILL smaller than "plus-sized" clothing.

This was part of a report I received from our trend service at work. On the left is a traditional sized model. On the right is a "plus-sized" model. And it should be noted that "plus-sized" in this case is about a size US 6.

I find the woman on the right more sensual. Maybe it's because she looks a little more real. Less plastic and awkward. Society's ideals are so incredibly fucked up, no wonder our children have no self esteem.

I just wanted to share this little tidbit. =)

The Chronicles of James Sprong: City Lights pt. 1

2010-01-21T02:46:00Z

Sprong leaned over the tiny blond and ran the pad of his finger down her soft cheek. He racked his brain trying to remember her name. Was it Sherri? Cheryl? What WAS it? He started gently kissing her mouth, nibbling on her lower lip as he reached into her purse and silently extracted her wallet. He kissed her a little more deeply and ran his hand down her ass. When she moaned he flipped the wallet open behind her and looked at the license. "Vixie?!" He gasped.

Violently, Sprong jerked himself awake. HER! He silently groaned. WHY HER?! He lay there looking at the ceiling fan whirl over his head and went over the dream in his mind. The hot little blond had approached him in his dream, rubbing her lithe form against him in the club. She'd whispered a name in his ear and dragged him from the room. Who was he to protest? So, why did he have to ruin his own fantasy by throwing Vixie into the mix?

He reached under the covers to start relieving his ache and gave up pretending not to think about Vixie. His curiosity piqued, he had managed to filch the manifest for the cruise where he first saw her. Vixie Tritten. Her name made her sound like a porn star and as he visualized her full lips running over his body, he could believe she was. He'd managed to find her on Twitter and Facebook only the day before. She was a computer consultant from the upper Midwest who apparently had too many connections..and a full, sexy ass.

As his belly hair began to stiffen, Sprong rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom to clean up. Tripping on 3 pair of jeans and a sock on the way, he made a mental note to have the cleaning service come in later that day. He let the water roll down his wide, tanned shoulders as he lathered himself with soap and thought about Vixie...again. Clean up is at least a little easier in here was his last coherent thought...

:::: TO BE CONTINUED ::::

The James Sprong Chronicles: Paddle Studies

2010-01-19T01:16:00Z

Vixie glanced around the room, bored to tears. She really disliked formal events, most especially when she had to wear the full body girdle under a dress. It was neither attractive, nor comfortable. Unfortunately, it allowed her to conceal many weapons as well as microphones and video surveillance and therefore came in quite handy. Currently, however, she had a nasty itch under her left breast from the damn thing and no way to delicately reach it.

She walked out of the ballroom, hoping for a little air out on the deck. Maybe she would get lucky and find a private spot where she could scratch to her hearts content. Sadly, she realized luck was not her lady this evening as she saw the three people talking a few feet further down the deck. Leaning on the rail, she watched the New York skyline slide by and eavesdropped, unashamed, on their conversation. It was, after all, one of the things she was paid to do.

Vixie quickly realized the two women were complete morons and the way they simpered up at the man they were talking to frankly turned her stomach. She never had understood women like that. Glancing over she realized one of them was the daughter of a senator and only seventeen if she was a day. The other girl was unfamiliar to her. She eyed the man, wondering who he was since she couldn't see his face. He was tall though, she narrowed her eyes in assessment. A hair taller than 6'3" and about 230 pounds, she made a sound of approval. Tall and beefy, just the way she liked her men. She saw his profile as he turned his head and her breath caught in her throat as one of his dark-brown, glossy curls tumbled down his forehead. Her mouth went dry as he smiled, flashing a dimple in his right cheek.

Sighing, Vixie looked down at herself in resignation. She felt frumpy compared to the two women standing down the deck from her. She regretted her choice of mauve for the evening. Sure, it looked good against her porcelain skin, but who actually WORE that color anymore? She smoothed the skirt down over her over-generous hips and wished she'd worn the tighter girdle.

She heard people coming out of the ballroom behind her and started moving down deck to avoid conversation. As she drew closer she realized she recognized the man. Sprong, James Sprong, World renowned womanizer, multi-billion dollar playboy. And he was taking up half the damn deck with the width of his shoulders. Of course! Why not? It was just the way her night was going.

"Excuse me," she said, trying to slide past him.

He looked down at her and raised an eyebrow, "Going somewhere, beautiful?" he asked.

Vixie rolled her eyes. "Do you really think that smarm works on everyone?"

Sprong looked slightly pained, "Well, it's worked for me so far, yes," He paused, "Smarm?"

Vixie looked him up and down, "Yes, definitely smarm. Save it for the prom queens here," she said hooking her thumb over her shoulder. "I'm sure they'd actually believe that tripe." She not-so-delicately pushed on his sternum and brushed past him, hoping he didn't hear the pounding of her heart or see the tremble in her legs.

As soon as she ducked around the corner she sagged against the wall. What the HELL was WRONG with her? She'd never had a reaction to a man like that before! Sure, he was beautiful but she'd seen countless beautiful men, hell she'd even killed several of them. She was an assassin, it's what she did. Shaking her head she slipped back into the ballroom and caught her target out of the corner of her eye. Good. It was time to go create a distraction and an innocent looking food poisoning.

::: LATER :::

Sprong leaned against the wall, watching the crowd getting off the ship. The senator's wife had suddenly become ill with a case of food poisoning, ruining everyone's merriment and shortening the dinner cruise by several hours. This little incident had completely ruined his schedule of pretending to seduce the senator's wife and gently assisting her in a tragic accident over the rail after acquiring the damning photo evidence and had cost him a great deal of money. It wasn't that the money was important, it was just the principal of the whole thing. Plus, now he was going to have to look for another opportunity to get close to the senator's wife. Fleetingly, he thought of the daughter. Usable, he supposed, if foolish and altogether unintelligent.

Suddenly, he saw her, the gloss of her auburn hair catching in the light. The mauve dress she wore should have clashed with her hair, but it simply reminded him of the ripe color of an aroused aureole and he wondered if the dress matched her own. He tried to kill off the swift flare of desire with that thought but didn't quite catch it in time. He stared at her, wondering what it was about her that so fascinated him as his pants became a little tighter. Suddenly, her electric blue gazed crossed his and his breath hitched. She merely wrinkled her brow at him and turned away. Sprong shook his head, what the HELL was WRONG with him??

:::::::::::::::::::::::

So, what's next kids??

Email me your suggestions to bhg at fatgirldiet dot com or DM me on Twitter!

Story of an Assassin: The James Sprong Chronicles

2010-01-19T00:29:00Z

I know I haven't been blogging very much lately (at all). My friend, Dave, pointed out that even if there are things I don't feel like sharing with the world that doesn't mean I should completely stop writing. He's right, of course. Thanks, Dave. Maybe I just needed a mental kick in the ass. So today while I was working on an outrageously mundane task at work I came up with an idea.

Who remembers the "Choose your own adventure" series of books from back in elementary school (or Junior High)? Well, the trick was, you got to a certain point in the story and it gave you options. Flip to page (whatever) to go down the right side of the trail, flip to page (whatever) to go down the left side of the trail. Based on your choices, the story changed and had different endings. I liked that I could read the same book 4 times and it was different each time. Ok, well, I'm going to do something similar.

Over the past several months John Mayer and others have often tweeted about a character named James Brond. Similar to Bond (James Bond, 007) only dorkier and DEFINITELY with issues. It gave me an idea. I'm going to start writing a series of short stories based around a character named James Sprong, he's an assassin. He knows just what to do. He gets in, he gets done and he gets gone. Or so he thinks. Because, you see, James won't be alone: there's this girl... (She's got a heavy head and she sleeps like a child.) [REF: Battle Studies, "Assassin"]

Here's the interactive part, you guys are going to help me write it. Together, we'll choose the adventure and see where it leads us. At the end of each story I'll ask where it should go next. You can email me here: bhg at fatgirldiet dot com or DM me on Twitter a suggestion for the next step of the adventure and I will continue writing the story. Let's keep them secret though, so the next step is a surprise.

Yes, this could really go horribly awry but it could also be a ton of fun for everyone. I'll try to give readers warning to the x-rated parts (and OH yes there will be x-rated parts) beforehand. That way, if you don't want the steamy parts you can just skip it. (But WHY?!!)

I also want to make clear that I don't want this to turn into fanfic. I don't have a problem with fanfic, but this is a story about James SPRONG, not John Mayer. Even though Sprong might look like he could slip right into the Mayer clan he could just as easily be related to say... Josh Groban. I mean, dark, glossy curls along with heavy-lidded, dark amber eyes and a full bottom lip are common enough. Right? Exactly. *cough* Anyway. Where was I?

Lastly, point of view may switch on and off between Sprong and the female lead, Vixie Tritten. After all, it's not a REALLY fun story unless you can see BOTH points of view. Let's see how much we can totally fuck these two characters up, shall we??

On to the story...

Let Them Bake Cake

2009-12-18T02:10:00Z

I know it's been a long time since I wrote a blog. I really need to get back into the habit of doing them again. That is, if I can remember how to write in more than 140 characters at a time. Might be a challenge, I won't lie... =D

So...John Mayer decided to have this little cake contest. He had one last year as well, but rather than actually attempt to bake one, I just emailed him a pic of a Rick Astley cake. Mostly because I thought it would be hilarious to Rick-roll his cake contest. (Well *I* thought it was funny anyway. Maybe you had to be there.)

This year I decided what the heck. I'll make like Bobby Flay and throwdown. I'll probably LOSE like Bobby Flay, too. (Seriously, he loses WAY more than he wins. Note that I didn't go to his restaurant while I was in NYC, either. Ahem.)

What to make? The whole point of the contest is to make something festive and in the spirit of the holidays but I didn't want to do a strictly Christmas cake. It's supposed to be an "Interfaith" cake contest, right? (Right.) So I had this rather brilliant idea of doing something more "winter" and yet still in the Christmas spirit. And so the Nutcracker Snow Globe was born...

I'm sort of dying to cut into this bad boy and see if it tastes as good as it looks. I might, however, slip into a sugar coma so I'll just wait until this weekend when I can share it with my family. We can all slip into a sugar coma together.

First I had to make a cake:

A chance to use Mom's mixer. Mmmmm. Girl power tools. (Well. I suppose boys can use them too. Whatever.)

I went out and spent way too much money on supplies that I only used a quarter of. (insert eye roll) But came away with a two layer white cake. Here is the first layer, frosted, while the second layer waits patiently for it's tasty goodness to be spread upon it.

With second layer. My poor hand would like to interject here with a sharp, OWWWIE! I think my palm had about 4 major hand cramps before I got this far. Spreading frosting is NOT as easy as it looks no matter HOW much Food Network you've watched. I feel that for my first attempt EVER in frosting a cake I didn't do too bad.

So then you have to, like, outline it so you can put the sugar crystals on without crap going EVERYWHERE. (It did anyway.)

I also made a sugar spray (a boiled mixture of sugar and water) that makes an edible spray-on glue. (2 parts water to 1 part sugar, roiling boil for 3 minutes, pour into a spray bottle, let cool to room temp.) It stays liquid and holy CRAP is this shit sticky. It also now coats most of my table and half my kitchen. Good times! *thumbs up*

So basically, what you end up with is....

(Detail—which STILL doesn't clearly show all the pretty, glittery sugar crystals!!)

The little round "sprinkles" things are weird. Do you know they NEVER go bad?? Ever. The bottle says "good indefinitely" which is sort of scary. Isn't it??

And the crowning glory...

(tada!)

The final snow globe!

The inside of the dome is sprayed with sugar and sugar crystals. I couldn't get it to come out right on camera much to my frustration. Now, if I had 10 grand in lights and a $25,000 camera it wouldn't be a problem. I guess you'll just have to take my word for it that it glitters pretty. It does. It totally looks like snow, it's crazy. I'm bummed the sugar didn't turn out better on the dome as well. In person, it totally looks like snow and ice.

Anyway, don't know if it'll win me a guitar (I really WANT the freakin' guitar!!) but it was fun. A lot of freakin' work, but still fun.

I really feel it screams:

"EAT ME, John Mayer!!"

Oh, now, that didn't sound proper at ALL. Whoops.

*cough*

The Toy Rules

2009-10-04T16:06:00Z

The other day I went to one of those little sex toy parties. It was fun. And no, I am not telling you what I bought. If I even bought anything.

One of the girls at the party had a list of rules her husband made for her. He's a pretty hilarious guy, so I just HAD to share the rules.

The Toy Rules

• NO toys that use anything bigger than an AA battery

• NO toys that plug into a wall outlet

• NO toys that are built by a major power tool company. Example: DeWalt

• Nothing shaped like an ANIMAL!

• Nothing bigger than a shotgun or that belongs over a fireplace

• Nothing that requires a crash helmet OR mouth guard

• Nothing made of GLASS

• Must be dishwasher safe

• No pink handcuffs ... Chrome is ok.

Tips on Dating Me

2009-10-03T02:26:00Z

So, maybe I caught your eye from across a crowded room. Maybe you randomly ran into me somewhere. Maybe you met me online. Where ever it was, there was something about me you decided you liked. Maybe it was my sense of humor, or my sass, or even the way my cleavage looked in that cute little black dress.

So, now you've decided to express a little interest but maybe you're a little shy at first. Well, here are a few tips to help you out.

Be honest and upfront: Just tell me

I'm an honest kind of person myself. And I really like it, and appreciate it, in others. In fact, it can really be sexy. Don't be afraid to express yourself or talk to me. I'm always open and willing to listen.

If you tell me you're going to do something: follow through

If you tell me you're going to call, then CALL. If we make a date, BE THERE. No girl likes to be stood up. Not for any reason. Even if it's something as simple as a phone call. It creates all sorts of hurt feelings. If some tragedy has occurred and you honestly can't make it, find a way to contact me as soon as possible. Phone, text, email, a direct message on Twitter, hell even pack mule. ANYTHING is better than saying nothing at all and the sooner the better.

Talk to me

Taking 2 minutes out of your day to drop me a message or an email saying you're thinking about me earns you MAJOR points. You don't have to slave over a love letter for me, write sonnets or even a long, complicated message. A few simple words go a really long way. I'm pathetically easy that way. (Hi. Miss you.) (Thinking about you.) (I just saw something that made me think about you and it made me smile) & do it often.

Take the lead

Just because I'm an outgoing girl doesn't mean I want to be the one who always calls the shots. I like a guy who knows his mind. It's true what they say about a confidant guy, he gets ALLLLL the girls. Fake it 'till you make it. There is just something infinitely sexy about a guy who's extremely confident in himself or in what he wants. So, don't be afraid to express yourself my man and tell me what you like and what you want.

Make the move

9 times out of 10, I am waiting for YOU to make the move. So, what the hell are you waiting for?

Touch me

I'm a touch person, and I like being touched a LOT. Hold my hand, brush me with your fingertips, glide a hand over my hair. Little touches mean a lot. Don't be afraid to put your arm around me, or hug me close. If we're on a date it's because I really LIKE you. If I don't LIKE you, I won't go out with you in the first place. Kisses, cuddles and hugs will always be warmly received. The more you touch me, the more I'll know you're into me.

Honestly, I'm pretty easy to please. But I'm also a romantic, I want a guy who's willing to be as smitten with ME as I am with HIM so don't be afraid to show it. In return, I promise to shower you with much love, affection and attention. And if you were wondering, I am a freaking AMAZING girlfriend. Your friends will all be so jealous.

This blog brought to you by:
Justin Timberlake: Love Stoned (Damn you and your interlude John Mayer)
Triple Distilled Vodka
Orange Banana Juice
A Splash of Maraschino Cherry Juice
& a general annoyance with the male population

Hey John Mayer! Vote for ME!!

2009-09-12T08:23:00Z

So there I am, laying in bed, staring at the ceiling fan. Well. Staring at the moving BLOB that I know is the ceiling fan. (I'm a tad blind without the contacts/glasses) My brain not wanting to shut down long enough for my body to get the rest I know it needs. I close my eyes countless times, but my mind is racing in 800 different directions and doesn't want to settle. That probably doesn't sound familiar at all, right? (insert eye roll)

I guess officially (according to the clock), it's my birthday. September 12. Three years ago today Continuum was released. John Mayer was about to unexpectedly kick me in the ass—musically and emotionally and in life altering ways. Three years before THAT, on this day he filmed Any Given Thursday. It all comes in 3's right? That makes my birthday the perfect day for this.

So, I guess it shouldn't be a surprise that I'm thinking about John Mayer again. You should know, he's a lot more complicated than most people tend to give him credit for. It both breaks my heart and pisses me off that most people only ever see his shiny surface and not the deep river than runs beneath. I've learned a lot about that river—it seems there's always some new facet I had no idea existed. It's sort of like finding new chapters in one of your favorite books.

I'm about to tell you one of my biggest fantasies involving John: To work for him. Yeah, I bet you thought it was going to be some dirty, naked, ohmygodthatsthebestsexIveeverhad sort of fantasy, but you'd be wrong. Not that my brain doesn't occasionally stray there. I mean, damn, hello?! I'm not DEAD! (plays Stephanie Meyers and inserts another eye roll like this is a Twilight book)

What the hell would I do for him?
John's a pretty damn talented graphic designer in his own right, he really doesn't need one of those. I could do merch for him, but his team does a fairly decent job at that too. (I could definitely bring some fashion forward ideas though.) But I was actually thinking more along the lines of personal assistant/permanent fan coordinator/live photographer/misc.

Why do I want to work for him?
The challenge. There's a part of my soul that craves a constant challenge. Keeping up with John? Extreme challenge. It might not be as fun as Extreme Jenga, but it has it's bonus moments. He has always challenged my mind to work in new (usually unexpected) ways.There's a little bit of an adrenaline charge to see if I can outwit/out think him. (I'm still sort of waiting for that moment. It'll come. One day.)

Second is probably people. I am a people person. Meeting new people always fascinates me. Mayer fans in particular. They are constantly surprising me in the most amazing ways. I love getting out there, interacting with and meeting other fans. Maybe it's because John tends to attract people with the same goofy sense of humor. Hell, I just love meeting people in general. I'm kind of a social person. =) I bet you never guessed that about me.

Ok, you might think this next part is weird, but it's true. Just *thinking* about managing 8 billion little details kind of excites me. I'm a detail girl. Crossing all the t's and dotting all the i's sort of turns me on. I blame my Virgo side for that. Making sure all the little things line up to make the big things work like clockwork makes me HAPPY. I know, I know. There's something wrong with me. I honestly don't get it either. Maybe it's a control thing?

Then, too, there's the nurture part. I like taking care of people. Plus I can make a wicked pancake and an amazing honey & lemon concoction for your voice. And a coffee strong enough to wake the dead and so tasty it could make an Angel weep. (Well, that's what people tell me anyway.)

Why me and not some other sap, er, I mean, hard worker?
I get his jokes.

No. Seriously, you have no idea how big this is. If you have someone working that closely with you, they DAMN well better get your humor. AND think it's funny. Otherwise all sorts of unhappy things transpire. Trust me, I have a similar sense of humor. Been there, been misunderstood, felt that angst. It sucked.

Of course, I also majored in Business Management in college (with a GPA of 3.2), which really helps. I've run a graphic department that had anywhere from 5 to 15 artists at any given time (so I can totally handle DRAMA!) For fun, amusement (and occasional torture), I've also been the personal manager for a singer/songwriter for the past 2 years (randomly, it's someone John actually grew up with.) Ok, sure, different scale but it's similar skills. And BONUS! I spent a LOT of years doing secretarial work. So I can do things like scheduling, typing, multi-tasking, blah blah blah.

The clincher?
His friends already like me. Loads. Can you really get a better endorsement than that? (HELL no and you know it!)

And John? Now that you've gotten to know me a little better (admit it) you like me too. You've already been able to say, "I made it happen for myself." Now, I'm asking YOU to help ME to say the same thing.

Hire me.

I've already got your back. Just put me by your side.

You Over-Think It

2009-09-07T23:00:00Z

I over-think things. Always. A friend of mine once told me I need to take things at face value just a little more often. I know he's right. But it doesn't always work that way.

I was sitting at my vanity getting ready to go see my cousin's band play at the State Fair tonight. The last little WHOOHOO for the weekend with my sister. As I was sitting there doing my hair I started to over-think about myself again. I kept looking in the mirror and wondering how anyone could ever find that attractive. My self-esteem has been taking a real beating over the last year. And as each pound finds it way back onto my ass the self-esteem meter seems to slip a little lower. If you told me I was beautiful right now, I probably wouldn't believe you.

I've always had a particularly hard time with men. I'm a little on the loud-mouthed side (I know, shocking, right?) which a lot of guys really find intimidating. Add to that the girth of my hips and guys just sort of seem to run the other direction. Pile on top of THAT the fact that when it comes to the opposite sex, I am PAINFULLY shy when I'm interested (which probably IS a surprise) and well...shit. Disaster combo—all leading to me not dating. Or at least, hardly ever.

It all just keeps leading me to the conclusion that I'm not the girl guys have wet dreams over...Right?

Then again.

There have been a few separate (and completely unrelated) events that happened over this past weekend to make me rethink that idea. Things that have sparked the idea that maybe I AM kinda sexy. I might be wet dream worthy after all. It's sort of a shocking concept for me, really. It might take some getting used to.

And there I go... over-thinking it all again.

The Award Goes To..

2009-08-21T13:31:00Z

For several years I owned my own business making bath and body products (lotions and potions). I closed the doors, officially and legally, on the business in 2008, despite really not having sales since 2007. It was a sad day for me, but I just couldn't compete in the market.

This morning, I received an email. Apparently, I've won an award (post-humoRus??). I find it so incredibly hilarious considering there have been NO sales, NO customers, no ANY-damn-thing for WELL over a year.

I'm pretty sure it's just a gimmick to get me to buy their plaque or whatever, but it's still funny.

Here's the "press release" they have "issued" for me:

Press Release

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

An Rogha Essentials Receives 2009 Best of Minneapolis Award

U.S. Commerce Association’s Award Plaque Honors the Achievement

WASHINGTON D.C., August 18, 2009 -- An Rogha Essentials has been selected for the 2009 Best of Minneapolis Award in the Shampoos, Rinses, Conditioners category by the U.S. Commerce Association (USCA).

The USCA "Best of Local Business" Award Program recognizes outstanding local businesses throughout the country. Each year, the USCA identifies companies that they believe have achieved exceptional marketing success in their local community and business category. These are local companies that enhance the positive image of small business through service to their customers and community.

Various sources of information were gathered and analyzed to choose the winners in each category. The 2009 USCA Award Program focused on quality, not quantity. Winners are determined based on the information gathered both internally by the USCA and data provided by third parties.

About U.S. Commerce Association (USCA)

U.S. Commerce Association (USCA) is a Washington D.C. based organization funded by local businesses operating in towns, large and small, across America. The purpose of USCA is to promote local business through public relations, marketing and advertising.

The USCA was established to recognize the best of local businesses in their community. Our organization works exclusively with local business owners, trade groups, professional associations, chambers of commerce and other business advertising and marketing groups. Our mission is to be an advocate for small and medium size businesses and business entrepreneurs across America.

SOURCE: U.S. Commerce Association

Thanks for the laugh guys!!

RIP An Rogha!!

(An Rogha is Irish/Gaelic for "the very best" ... ironically)

The Amazing Josh Groban

2009-07-14T00:08:00Z

Everybody knows who Josh Groban is so...wait. You DON'T?! What? Have you been living in a cave for the past 10 years? No, no. You know this guy, maybe you just don't remember his name. You know, young guy, classical singer, probably the best Tenor [Excuse me: BASS (who sings tenor)] of his generation? C'mon! Some poor Angel is running around mute because he gave his voice to Josh Groban. Still not ringing a bell? You HAVE been in a cave, haven't you?

Well, he looks like this:

OH! Riiiiiight! THAT guy!! (See, I KNEW you knew who he was!)

Ok, so this is my Josh Groban story.

So, since I'm pretty sure we're gonna have new kids joining us on this one let's just do a quick synopsis on ME because I bet you're wondering, who the hell *IS* this chick?? Well my name is Mara, but most people know me as Bearheaded Girl or BHG. I guess you could say I'm a John Mayer Superfan. Almost 3 years ago I started this blog to help me get my ass in gear (it didn't really have anything to do with DATING John Mayer...that part was a joke). In the process, I lost 80 lbs, met John Mayer and made some of the most incredible friends of a lifetime. John, and his friends (strangely), helped change my life for forever. For instance, I became a band manager. The guy I manage? (Jim Wolf) He grew up with John. I know, it's a little weird (and a long story). Anyway, none of that is important or relevant to this story. Well, much anyway.

This story began on Twitter. Several weeks ago, Josh Groban and John Mayer became friends on Twitter. (I know, that sounds so 7th grade, *ppppssst!* Hey can you pass this note...) I knew who Josh Groban WAS (of course) but I really didn't know diddley about him. I remember seeing him on Ally McBeal a gajillion years ago. His voice sort of sticks with you. Josh and John made a few jokes back and forth. Josh seemed funny, I clicked on his page. Oh yeah. This guy's funny. (I'm a HUGE sucker for funny!) I decided to follow him. Why the heck not? He's funny, I like funny.

Here's an example:

(his date for the event...or so I heard)

I'm a self-admitted smart ass. I can't seem to help it, it must be built into my genes or something. I'm always mouthing off to Mayer. Of course, now he has 1.7 million followers (insert eye roll) so he probably doesn't see my remarks, but I'll make them anyway. It started innocently enough. I put the comments in order:

So, yeah, being ME I had to go make the smart remark. But to be fair, Josh TOTALLY set himself up for that one! Totally. I thought it was hilarious that he replied, I certainly never expected it. I knew something was up when my cell started going nuts with email notifications. (I get an email notification every time someone follows me.) They were all Josh Groban fans (of course). All in all, almost 100 new followers. Huh. I've gotten to know some of them, good peeps these Grobanites. =D

Then, I sort of felt guilty. I know how awesome it can be to have one of your hero's acknowledge something you've said or done. I wasn't even a Groban fan. I just thought he was a funny guy, I didn't really know anything about him at all. As a Superfan for someone else, I felt I owed it to Josh (& his fans) to at least have a little courtesy to check him out. And not just his ass—which is quite stellar might I add. Plus, I was a little puzzled at the "you always do" part of that comment. (Hey, I'm a GIRL: we tear every stray comment a guy makes apart. No matter WHO he is. It's what we do. Sorry guys!) I think (at that point) I'd only said a few things to Josh. Smart ass remarks, of course. So it made me wonder. He's got over 30,000 followers. Am I the only one making funny jokes? (I find that hard to believe) Or did he just notice MINE in particular?

EDNOTE: It was in reference to this WIll Ferrell SNL skit. Pay attention when the sheep head comes on, 25 seconds before it ends they have a staring contest and Ferrell says, "You win! You always do!" I'm pretty sure that's what Josh was reffering to since my profile pic at the time was the head of a bear.

Well, my friends sort of got into the fun of it all. We sort of had a Groban-fest on Twitter over the weekend. Innuendos? Check. Smart assed remarks? Check. Sexual propositions? Um. *cough* Well. Yeah. Check. I'm not just a smart ass. I'm a dirty girl. I grew up in a garage full of GUYS, honestly, what did you expect? I'm not sweet and demure. Unless you ask me out on a date. Then I become the shy, awkward, nervous girl from hell (just for the first hour or two). I have no idea why, and it annoys me. Where was I? Oh yes, saying naughty things to Mr. Groban all weekend. *cough*

I checked out his website (joshgroban.com) there's a pretty sweet tune player in the upper left. If you're not familiar with his stuff check it out. I think there's 7 songs in the player, and it's a pretty fair representation of his style. I listened to them most of the weekend. Until I managed to snag a CD from my Mom. HAHA. (My Mom loves you, Josh. When are you coming over for dinner? She (me) wants an answer.) I read his blog, watched several of his video blogs. He's totally a geek after my own heart. I wish I were Natalie Portman so I could make his day. (heart)

Laughed pretty hard at this:

I've been listening to the Awake CD and his first, self-titled disk all day yesterday and today. Here's what I've discovered. The songs I really like the MOST? They're the ones Josh wrote himself (or himself with others). "Machine" (w/Herbie Hancock) in particular is rocking my socks. I can't listen to it without humming or half-singing it. Just ask my cube-mate at work. I've been annoying her with it all day. *rubs hands together* bwahahahaha!

Whooops! Almost drank the Aloe gel on my desk instead of the water. Pay attention, Mara!

"Awake" is also ringing well with me, although I think I prefer the live version they're streaming on his site over the album version. I think it's the line that goes, "but I can have you next to me today." The "to me" notes go too far down on the album version, it sounds better the way he sings it live. I have to say, I'm glad I quit smoking 2 months ago. I thought my voice had been destroyed and gone but it's coming back pretty nicely. I can mostly keep up with Josh. That's kind of huge for me, I couldn't have done it 3 months ago. I bet I could give Mr. fancy pants a run for his money in another month or so with some solid practice behind me. I'm actually a pretty damn good Tenor. (Ok, ok, ALTO, whatever. It's closer to Tenor so bite me.) I've been contemplating making a "Machine" parody about love with a dildo. (Is there anything in this world to make you vibe? Oh, you're a machine!) (it's a joke kids, don't kill me) And is it just me, or is it funny/weird/ironic that he has a song named February and used to date a girl named January? No? Just me then.

I've learned that Grobanites (Groban fans) are pretty damned awesome. Except for some of the message board people. They're mean and possessive. (Don't ask about girlfriends, for instance, you'll be lynched!) It kind of makes me giggle, that they are SOOOO similar to Mayer fans. We all really have so much in common. Josh and John even kinda look like each other.

Ok, maybe not the BEST of comparative shots. But they have the same dark, curly hair, similar eyebrows, chocolate brown eyes. I've met one of John's brothers, I think Josh could TOTALLY pass for youngest Mayer. (I think he's younger than Ben too.) So, really, it's probably not a wonder I'm harboring this little crush. Josh Mayer. See? Sounds good too.

Could I become a Groban Superfan? Yeah, I suppose that's definitely a possibility. I like him as a person a lot. He's a lot like my friends, and he'd totally fit into my friend group. (Join us Josh, we really need another Mac nerd! I'm SO outnumbered!) He's the kind of guy I can see myself hanging out with, making fun of, hip-checking into a snow bank and defending his back. I understand why some of his fans are so possessive. Mayer gets the same kind of loyalty from ME. (Do not EVER call him a douche and mean it or I will go Mama Bear on your ass.)

But you see, Josh, now I know I can make you laugh. That's MY rush. You know the rush you get, after you finish a song and the crowd goes nuts? It's what keeps you going back again and again. (Well, one of the reasons.) I get that rush from making people happy, making them laugh and being able to laugh back. That's how I fell for Mayer. He made me laugh until I cried. Plus, you know, he's got mad skills on the guitar. Women really kinda dig guys who are super talented with their hands like that. I don't know why. *whistles innocently* Oh, hey, you play PIANO don't you? HMmMMmmm.

MMmm. Piano fingers.

*blink*

Where was I?

Oh! Right! Making Josh laugh. I hope you don't mind, Josh, but I'm going to try to keep making you laugh. I'm sort of like a little terrier, once I get a good grip I'm hard to get rid of. You know, come to think of it, isn't your DOG a terrier? Hmm. Could be a good sign, that. I don't hang out with Ostrich's though. Is that a problem?

How DO you feel about women with a generous backside? You know, the bonus is we have big boobs. Natural ones. Not that I'm trying to entice you. Nope. I'd never do that. O Have I mentioned I'm a decent cook and an awesome masseuse?

Oh, hey, Josh??

Thanks. You made my day at a time when I needed that little spark of happiness like you don't even know.

I can't promise I'll be a superfan, but I will definitely be a friend and I admire the bejeebus out of your mad singing skills. And if I can get my cousin-in-law Dave to help me out with some music, you MIGHT just see a parody of something from me.

Ok, eye candy time.

I love this one because he's laughing. Such a fantastic laugh. Although, the art director in me has several frustrations with this shot, like his shirt's hanging weird (too much Photoshop? It almost looks like he has a gut and he doesn't). And the rock is pushing into his body at an odd angle and the tie points right to his...I'll stop.
I totally love that he's a little hippy in this shot though. SO sexy. Is that weird?

The "I'm all sweet and innocent" look. You don't fool me Groban. Not for one tiny minute. I'm sad because I think you hide a part of yourself to avoid disappointing people though. Be proud of every piece of who you are. Even the dirty bits.

LOVE LOVE LOVE this shot on a major artistic level. It's amazing. The shadows and colors make it so moody and sexy. I really wish he were half smiling though. Mona Lisa-ish. This shot makes me itch to get him in front of MY camera. Or at least art direct him in a shoot.

A quick note about posting comments and such:
I ask for an email to cut down on SPAM comments. It confuses the bots when they have to enter info like that. NO ONE ELSE will ever see your email address. It won't link to it, and you won't get SPAM from me or anyone else because you entered it in. I promise. If you have something you need to tell me personally, you can email me at bhg at fatgirldiet dot com. Otherwise, feel free to say whatever you want. Unless you're being extremely hateful or trying to sell something.

Subscribing:
If you subscribe to this blog I can not change your email, modify your settings, etc. Honestly, I don't even have access to the email list of subscribers. (much to my annoyance) If you need to unsubscribe, there are directions in the email you get. Otherwise, feel free to subscribe. You're completely anonymous.

Chris Isaak is my Hero

2009-07-12T06:56:00Z

Chris Isaak has always been one of my heros. I met him for the first time back in 1991 when I was a VERY impressionable teenager. He was nice, kind and best of all—hilarious. (it set a precedent) I fell in love on the spot. 18 (gagillion) years later and he can still make my heart feel all melty and soft.

I haven't seen Chris in years. I posted a blog a while back sort of explaining the whys. Anyways. Chris has always been my first. First musician "boyfriend," first celebrity I ever met, first hug that severely knocked my socks off. *grin* (Hey Josh Groban and John Mayer if either of you can ever hug me like Chris can, you could probably get me to do whatever you want... Except THAT, John. I will never do that. Forgeddit. No.) Where was I? Oh yeah, Firsts. A girl never forgets her first. If he was a GOOD first, he ascends to that special "hero" spot. That's where Chris goes. My hero spot.

I hadn't seen Chris perform in years. It occurred to me when I saw Ben Folds Summer of '07 (when he was opening for John...which is still fucked up and weird, it should be the other way around) that there was a long period in my life where I stopped going to ANY shows, and stopped seeing ALL my favorite musicians. But seeing Chris again tonight made me feel like I'd never had that lapse. Oh sure, new songs, new set, a few new band members but same amazing show.

I saw these 2 girls while we were waiting in line to get in, they ended up sitting next to me at the show. They both looked so familiar I finally turned and said something. They had been thinking the same thing about me. HA! Turns out, we DID know each other! I hadn't seen either of them since probably 1998. (I honestly don't think I'm as old as that makes me sound...) We played catch-up after the show. So amazing! Turns out, Jen now lives here in the Twin Cities AND used to work with one of my former co-workers. You know, fuck the 6 degrees of separation thing. My life seems to be more like 3 degrees. Weird! I am definitely getting together again with Jen. I love when life throws little curve balls like that. I randomly decided to go to this show and randomly ended up sitting right next to them. See? I didn't end up alone at the show after all. =D

(Thanks for the sign, God, I was getting worried.)

I didn't get to talk to Chris after the show, which severely bummed me out. Apparently he's not coming out to do autographs anymore. That made me really sad. I wanted to thank him in person. Without Chris, I probably wouldn't be where I am today. And I'd probably be listening to really crap music.

NAH

Thanks, Chris. I really missed you. And honestly, I didn't MEAN to match the suit you were wearing. Total coincidence. No. Really!! It's not my fault that blue color looks so damn good on both of us!

And Jen and Susan? It was so amazing to see you both again. Let's not be strangers anymore.

Ok, it's late. I need a nap. Here are some photo's for you all...

Good Mom Vs Bad Mom

2009-07-10T17:05:00Z

Ok, so my friend Johanna posted this link up on Twitter and it was TOO FUNNY, so I'm posting it below. I'll confess, I've done similar things to marketers. Yeah, yeah, I'm horrible. Blah blah. Blame MY mom!! Here are 2 (edited for brevity & slightly paraphrased) examples:

*RING!*
Me: hello?
Caller: HI! This is Julie from the Star Tribune Newspaper and I want to sell you a subscription to our weekly newspaper.
Me: Oh. I'm not interested, I'm sorry. I'm illegitimate.
Caller: Uh. What?
Me: I'm illegitimate, you know, I can't READ.
Caller: You mean ILLITERATE??
Me: Oh. Right. Yeah, that one.

*RING*
My MOTHER: Hello?
Caller: Hi! This is Sarah from Whogivesashit Book Club. We want to sell you a subscription to monthly books.
MOM: (sobbing) I told you people to STOP CALLING ME
Caller: Ma'am?
MOM: (still pretending to sob) I AM BLIND!!

Do you see why I love her so much (and why I am the way I am)? She's frickin' AWESOME!!

And YES, both of those things really did happen.

Anyway, here is that article the article that made me start thinking about all that stuff.
And here is the link to the real article: http://blogs.chron.com/goodmombadmom/2009/07/why_you_need_to_know_who_youre.html

Why you need to know who you're marketing to

(By Jenny, Bloggess & mom of 4-year-old)

Holy crap, y'all. You know how whenever I get a marketing email from someone who clearly has no idea who I am I completely screw with them as long as possible because if I'm going to have my time wasted I expect to at least be entertained?This is one of those times. This email thread is completely true andnot made up (Although slightly cut for brevity) and I just want topoint out that my email address goes straight to thebloggess.comso it's not like I have some weird, hard-to-find blog. And now, alesson in the importance of reading the blog you are marketing toobefore you market to it:

Dear Jenny,
Hello, my name is Patty Leonard and I am the founder of The NationalBoard of Mothers and Family Values Cinema. About 3 years ago a group ofmoms in Camarillo, California got together to review movies for eachother's families. The response from other moms also concerned aboutfinding movies appropriate for family viewing was so overwhelming, wedecided to create Family Values Cinema to make these films available toall families. To date, we have reviewed over 1800 films and have thusfar found 68 suitable for family viewing. Free of bad language,gratuitous violence and sex. Now, we need your help letting moms knowabout our unique service. You can visit our website at www.familyvaluescinema.com.We are also always looking for additional moms who want to reviewmovies for us. We are all very proud of having gotten this far and arehopeful that with the help of moms spreading the word, our club willgrow and maybe Hollywood will begin listening more carefully to whatmoms seem to agree on..making more family movies!
Thanks again,

Patty Leonard/Founder
The National Board of Mothers/Family Values Cinema

Patty, thanks so much for the email but I'm confused. Yousay you have reviewed 1800 films and found only 68 suitable for familyviewing but I see on your website that one of your approved movies isthe live-action, 2006 version of "Charlotte's Web". This movie may seemharmless on the surface but includes blood-drinking, magical animalsand (in several scenes) brief flashes of pig genitals. Have you even seen this movie?

~Jenny

Dear Jenny:
Charlotte's Web is being sold in our Club Store and is not part of themonthly club mailings. It is a title many parents have asked us tocarry, but does not yet carry the National Board of Mother's approval.Even Charlotte's Web (as you noted) may have some offensive scenes. Werecently opened our Club Store at the request of our members who arelooking for "additional" G and PG rated movies. And this title was oneof the ones at the top of the list. You would be a great mom reviewerfor our movies though. Sure hope you will consider being one.

Thanks again for your time!

Patty

Hi Patty, thanks for the clarification. I guess someparents are more okay with their children seeing pig genitals than Iam. Personally though, I'd prefer my daughter was in college before shewas exposed to any genitals at all...even pig testicles. Heck, *especially*pig testicles. I'm not sure why the director didn't just film a femalepig instead and skip the testicles altogether. That's just borrowingtrouble.

Also, I'm not sure I'd be a very good reviewer because Ihaven't seen most of the movies on your site. One of them that you hadlisted (The Hole) I looked up on imdb and apparently it's some sort of adult film? (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0381250/) According to the plot summary: "You see a video tape. You get a menancing phone call in the night... and seven days later you're GAY."It says it's a "gay spoof of The Ring" but I did see The Ring manyyears ago and it scared the heck out of me so I don't think I'd let myfour-year-old watch even a spoof of it. Especially a gay pornographic spoof. I guess I don't understand how the rating system works. Is that one meant for older children?

Thanks so much!

~Jenny

Dear Jenny:

You are too funny . The movie on our site is called HOLES. Not The Hole.I think you would a perfect review mom for us. And the movies we sendto review are mostly independent films moms have not yet heard ofanyway. Do think about it. I think you would be ideal and I love howconscientious you are!

Have a nice evening!

Patty

OMG, Patty. (The G stands for Gosh). If it's one thing I am, it's conscientious. And also...oh crap...I can't do this.

Patty, you are so damn nice you are making me feel guilty.To be honest, I'm an extremely irreverent blogger who is incrediblyoffensive. I'm kind of shocked you haven't figured that one out. Also,I write a sex column, and a blog about how the Pope is a cannibal who eats kittens, and another one about how we should make orphaned babies into Gladiators who fight for public amusement.I think also technically I'm considered a sex worker. Plus, I let mydaughter watch The Simpsons and I'm pretty sure that goes against thewhole family values thing although I do fast-forward through theviolent Itchy & Scratchy parts because I'm not a monster. But Iwill probably blog about this whole thing on my mommy blog on theHouston Chronicle so you might get some good really hits out of it.Amazingly, I do have a many fine Christian, moral, upright andoccasionally even Republican readers. I know. It shocks me too.

You are very sweet and I apologize for accidentally sending you a link to gay porn, even though technically it wasn't reallyan accident. But I *did* purposely search for a link that had no gayporn photographs or foul language so I think I should probably getcredit for that.

~Jenny

PS. I thought "Holes" was a very cute movie but the title practically screams "porn". I'm not sure what they were thinking.

Posted by Jennifer Lawson at July 10, 2009 09:14 AM

Port-upyour-lio

2009-06-08T01:36:00Z

So, I got this bug to redo my portfolio. It'd been a while since it had been updated and I realized that the things I've showcased there really don't represent my best work now. I've done some pretty killer projects since I updated it...back in 2006? Maybe it was 2007. *ahem* Yeah, it's been a while.

Now, to me redoing my portfolio doesn't mean just updating the work I'm showcasing. Oh no. It's got to be a complete site over-haul. And because it's ME, well, it can't be UGLY. I'm an artist after all. It better be a pretty good looking site. Right? I have all the tools, I've done it before, it won't be hard. RIght?

So, I'm doing some research. There are a LOT of really cool sites out there. And a lot of really cool portfolio sites. Hmmm. Maybe I shouldn't do the standard, static site. *click* Oh, well you know, THAT's pretty cool.... *click, click* OOOOooOOOOo! Sweet! I wonder how I'd do that... *click* hmmm. That's cool. *click* Oh, I could totally do that. *click, click* Oh. Damn. How'd they DO that? *click* Oh, I really LIKE that. *click* I might have to steal that idea there. *click* You know I could do something similar only change *click* yeah, that, just like *click* shit, that guy's got TALENT *click* wow, just wow *click, click* That makes everything I've ever done completely suck *click* I'm gonna need to learn how to *click* oh, sweeeet! *click* God, I really SUCK!

So, two weekends later, several online tutorials that were cool but getting me NO WHERE and this site still doesn't even have a starting point. Well. I have a splash page. But nothing beyond that. Think I'll have to sit down and sketch out what I want, make a list of the features & cool do-dad's that I want to learn how to add and crack down on some research. Maybe *gasp* go to the library to see what sort of books they have.

This is going to take longer than planned.

But it's gonna be cool.

If it kills me.

(loading ...)

Well...I'm still fat

2009-05-13T03:41:00Z

I started this blog 2-1/2 years ago with great intentions. I lost 80 lbs. Then... what happened?? I started falling back into my old eating habits and eating out all the time. I started gaining weight. I had to buy new pants. I started getting depressed because I had to buy new pants. I gained a little more. I tried to rally myself, but only put a half-hearted effort into it. Failed. Vicious cycle, rinse, repeat.

I finally got the chance to meet John, you'd think HEY! Goal! Right? Honestly, despite the name of the blog, the goal was never John. And by the time I finally got to meet him I'd gained 35-40 lbs back. I couldn't talk about ME. How embarrassing! Inside, all I kept thinking was, I'm a failure. So I talked about other people, and it felt good. Right somehow. I don't regret one second of it. A few weeks after that, Chad finagled the story of BHG out of me. I told him I'd lost 80 lbs (which IS true) and he seemed so amazed. And I felt like such a sham. Sure, I'd done it. But I hadn't kept it off, I'd gained a bunch back. Just call me Captain Sham. (the E on the end is silent)

Despite all that, and feeling like a miniature whale AND even seeing the ginormous fat roll under my chin in my pic with John, I continued to slide. Just buy another pair of pants. Another shirt. Dig out the old coat. When I had initially started bagging up all my "fat" clothes I remember my mom said, "Oh! Don't throw it all away! You might need it!" At the time I was sort of pissed off. How could she have such a lack of faith in me? *ahem* (sorry, Mom)

I haven't gained it ALL back. I'm still down about 30 lbs. Thank God for small favors, I guess. But right this moment, I feel even bigger than I did when I started.

I watched the season finale of "Biggest Loser" tonight. I cried when I watched it, the condensed version of the season. Everyone's story summed up in a 2 minute photo and video montage. I saw people who weigh what I weigh right now start their journey, and do well. And in that 2 minute montage, I felt their pain. Their joy. That feeling of accomplishment, knowing you CAN do anything you set your mind to do. ANYTHING. All you have to do is one small thing: believe in yourself.

Except, believing in yourself can be one of the hardest things you will ever do.

Believe in yourself. These days, I have to remind myself of that. It doesn't come as naturally as it once did. I keep trying to find that little sparkle, that certain something that got me motivated to do it all in the first place. I'll be damned if I can remember where I set it down. It's around here somewhere... Let's see, I think I put it over...no, no I moved it last summer. I think I may have placed it under here. Hmmm. No, it must be over there. Right under this pile of books, I'm certain of ... nope, not there either. It's got to be where ever I stored my sense of humor. I'm pretty sure they're together...

Over the past year, everything feels like it's gotten so serious. Like I'm some sort of jackass for trying to make a joke. It's like every time I try to find a little ray of sunshine, a little laughter, something else comes along to whack me in the back of the head. To the point where I'm ready to scream, "Enough already!" For every step I take forward, it's another two steps back. I have two black eyes and a cut lip, but I think I'm about ready to come out swinging. Finally.

Everyone has to fight their demons alone, no matter how many people are there to hold your hand while you're doing it. I'm a really lucky girl, I have a lot of really amazing people ready to hold my hand when I need it. I probably have a better support network than most AA groups. Like I said, I'm a lucky girl. And I'm going to do this. I have Determination. With a big D.

Which brings me back to watching "Biggest Loser" tonight as I sat on the couch...eating Chipotle and munching on chips. (Yes, I get the irony.) Watching those 2 minute montages really hit home, you know? I've been there, done that. I KNOW I can do it. Again. Tomorrow night I'm going to watch "The Secret" again, I haven't watched it in a long while. It's one of the things that got me started last time. Well, that and a certain curly-haired musician who happens to be even dorkier than myself. (and some of you thought that wasn't possible) Oh! Hey! Look! He's still around, how about that? Well that's handy.

So yes, I'm still fat. It's a work in progress. And I think it's about time the progress started up again.

(Oh, John Mayer, you poor, poor bastard.)

And to further humiliate myself, I'm posting the FULL version of the pic of me and John. 800 chins, weird arm fat lump and all.

Quit standing there looking so skinny, John. You're making me look fa...oh. Wait. Nevermind.

The Chantix Challenge

2009-05-03T17:07:00Z

So I decided to quit smoking. It wasn't an easy decision to make. If you've ever been a serious smoker you may understand what I mean by that. Here's the thing, even though you KNOW that you're stinky, that you are (in effect) killing yourself daily, etc., you still WANT to smoke. I've always loved smoking, I've enjoyed it really. Despite all the negatives and the cost, I really REALLY liked it. But I decided it was time.

I've tried to quit twice before, both times on the patch, both times unsuccessful. Both times I tried to do it for my health. Apparently, that's not much of a motivator for me. I've decided, the 3rd time's the charm. And, by God, I am NOT using the patch. No little black adhesive residue patches on THIS girl. Not this time. I'm using Chantix.

Now, that's Chantix not Tantric. (in case you're like the girl in my office who got them confused) Although, hey, I could go for a little of the latter. Who couldn't? Chantrix is the stop smoking drug. You keep smoking while you start taking it and eventually you taper off and stop. Chantix works on your brain, it blocks the receptors that nicotine uses to stimulate pleasure and keep you addicted. I'm discovering the hard way that it also sort of does that for caffeine as well. (D'oh!) Anyway, it kills your cravings for another cigarette. Mostly.

Smoking isn't purely a chemical addiction though. It's a habit addiction too, and that's where I'm having the most struggle. After I eat, when I'm driving, the morning coffee and smoke. Those are the tough times. Sometimes out of no where the urge will hit and it's strong. If I stop, take a few deep breaths and think about it, it's not actually a chemical need, I think it's a psychological one.

They say quitting smoking is as hard as kicking a heroin addiction. But you know, I've seen Trainspotting. So I find that a little hard to believe. Certainly, it isn't easy but I wouldn't say it's as hard as kicking heroin.

Things are going in the right direction so far. I haven't had a completely smoke free day yet, but I've gone from a pack and a half habit per day down to 1 or 2 cigarettes per day. That's huge for me. My plan is to just take it slow and do it right and I'm not doing it alone. My sister, Mom & Dad and one of my best friends are all doing it with me. Anyone else want to join The Chantix Challenge??

Before you decide to start taking Chantix there are a few things you should know. If you are depressed, Chantix may not be right for you as it can cause further depression. There have been several studies done showing that Chantix may even cause depression in those who weren't depressed to begin with. Don't do it alone, have a buddy there to support you. Every one works differently, if you decide to quit, pick a method you think will work well for YOU.

A friend of mine quit smoking by taking a week off and going up into the mountains with his bike. He'd ride until he couldn't ride anymore, then he'd hike until he couldn't hike anymore. I'm in awe of his methodology and conviction. It takes a spine of steel to do it that way, I sure as hell couldn't do it like that! 8 months later and he's still not smoking. Color me impressed.

Here are a few things that have been helping me get over the urge:
breathing deep, like I would if I were smoking (inhale, hold it a second, exhale)
gum (ah, peppermint you are ever so delicious)
singing (I can already tell my voice is getting better from not smoking so much)
Getting up, moving and doing something completely different

I think I'm going to throw on some sweats and go for a long, fast walk.

The Adventures of Milo

2009-04-11T20:05:00Z

Before I headed out the door to go float on a boat with John Mayer I was thinking about the friends I wanted to be there, but couldn't go. Last year when I went on the Mayercraft I brought a My Little Pony named CC to represent my friend Kelly. I took CC with me everywhere and sent text pictures of her to Kelly until we set sail and my phone became useless and/or way too expensive to use. This year, I wanted to do something slightly different. More special. What the HELL was I going to do??

I went back to the dollar store where I found CC. SURELY they would have something to inspire me. That's the beauty of a dollar store, right? It's a ton of brand new junk. Random, useless CHEAP junk. And there, at the end of an isle in a little bin by the floor is where I found Milo. A bin FULL of little Milo's. I bought one, bought some other possibilities and came home. I contemplated the items I had purchased. I couldn't really decide which item I wanted to take with me. I kept going back to the Milo (who wasn't named Milo at the time). He seemed perfect. Small enough to fit in my purse, all plastic in case he got wet (he's actually a squeaky bath toy) and he's a fish which seemed sort of appropriate to take on a boat. Right?

The day before we left for LA I had an epiphany. What if I had a whole bunch of them? I'd be able to give him to more than one person. What if I tried to get him signed by various people?? *DING!* I ran (ok, drove) back to the dollar store and bought 5 more of them. The plan? Take pictures of him with me everywhere and have different people sign each one. When I got home, I would send them to various people who couldn't be there to share the experience.

So I set off for LA with one Milo in my purse and 5 more packed in my suitcase. The Adventures of Milo were about to begin...

Milo flies the friendly skys.

Welcome to Los Angeles.

Chilaxin' in Long Beach.

I can tell he's already bored with this. What's next? Quit rolling your eyes at me Milo!

Looking out the port hole in our room aboard the Hotel Queen Mary.

Inspecting the Queen Mary.

Preparing the Tardis.

Hanging with friends. (I love that Jay Tay has the exact same expression on his face as Milo!)

Already, Milo knows he's hot enough to score with the girls! But I could tell, he was going to miss Jenny a LOT!

Playing Tourist at the Chinese Theater in Hollywood.

John Wayne was one cool dude!

Up in the Hollywood hills at Griffith Observatory. That little white dash in the background there is the Hollywood sign. It looked closer in person, honest.

Partying it up with some of the coolest bitches on the planet.

On board! At last!

Safety first! Milo matches the life jackets!

Milo can make friends anywhere!

Milo faces off with his rival... Who will win? Hot guy or fish??

Ready to set sail, Captain! Let's get this boat on the ocean!

Ok John Mayer! Bring it!

Milo knows how to bring out the, um, BEST in everyone!

But he really does love the ladies!

JJ Johnson got to be the first to sign a Milo. I think Milo was wondering if the tattoo was gonna hurt, but JJ was gentle...

Milo sports his first tattoo. CHEERS!

What can I say? He's a popular little fish! Channing really liked him, but I don't think Chico got it.

Chico came around eventually. How can you not love Milo?

Jessie Baylin sure thought Milo was cute! And Milo loved her so much he made her sign him TWICE!

Relaxing with a Corona at The Office in Cabo.

We're gonna have to cut him off. He drinks like a ... *cough*

Ahhhhh! Cabo! So beautiful!

Contemplating the obnoxiousness of the Carnival Splendor taking up the entirety of the Cabo harbor...

Peeping Milo loves all the hot babes on the beach.

Now THIS is the life...

You mean this dude with the ginormous head was the point to this whole trip? I don't believe you.

And here he is...in all his signed glory:

Chad Franscoviak & Jessie Baylin signed this one. This is where Chad signed.

This is where Jessie signed. It says, "Wish you were here" on the side.

David Ryan Harris and Ryan Shaw got this one. This is David's.

and this is Ryan's. "God Bless"

John Aschettino (Ryan Shaw's guitarist) and Jessie Baylin. Jessie also gave him a mustache.

Lastly, the John Mayer Milo. Chad signed his name like a mustache on the front. (That's where Jessie got the idea for her mustache!)

It should be noted that THIS is the Milo I flashed my underpants to John Mayer for. Um, well. I was passing it to him and I fell. In a skirt. Hence the flashing. Flashing not required for autograph. In fact, I'm sure John's probably now seeking therapy to have that image removed from his mind. Not that I blame him. When I passed Milo to him, John said that he looked like a demented Nemo. Hey, it's not Milo's fault he has super huge bug-eyes!

I was going to make Chad sign all of them, but I only managed to get 3 of them signed by him. So in the end, I guess you could say John Mayer has fondled my fish, but Chad fondled my fish the most. *cough*

You know what's really funny though? Chad was telling random people the story of Milo. I ran into a girl on an elevator and happened to have a Milo in my hand and she says, "Oh my God! You're the girl with the fish!" and I said, "Wait, what?" (I'm a stunning conversationalist when startled.) "Chad told me about a girl getting a bunch of fish signed for her friends. That's you, right?" To which I replied, "Chad? Franscoviak? He told you about my fish?" (Yep, stunning conversationalist!) And yes, apparently he told a bunch of people. You make me giggle, Chad.

And since he was such a good sport, Chad needed to get a little something special. I gave him Wanda.

Wanda sat on top of Chad's soundboard the last night of the cruise for the last show. She's probably packed somewhere in a gear box now. I asked him to take care of her for me, so hopefully she doesn't end up in a bag of trash somewhere. Maybe when Chad unpacks his board he'll find her and he'll remember the crazy adventures of Milo. (and/or how entirely weird I am)

So I suppose you're wondering, who get's the Milo's? It was an incredibly tough decision. I have more than 5 friends who should have been able to go, who really WANTED to go but weren't able to go. I chose from among that group. And if you don't get one, please don't think it's because I didn't think of you. I did. I thought of ALLLL my friends who couldn't be there, and I missed you.

So, here are the names of the girls getting a Milo (not in any order):

Kelly
Donna
Mindi
Kristen
Kylie

I wish I could have given each and every one of you who couldn't go a Milo and I actually feel bad that I can't. But instead, I'll dedicate this blog to you. It's lame, (and droning) but it's all I've got.

And if you're counting, you've probably wondered where the sixth and final Milo is. Well, I left the boat without getting him signed. I was a little bummed about it, but then I started thinking. Maybe I would keep THAT Milo for myself. So I made a few of my friends sign him for me. I don't need famous people to sign him. They aren't the ones I think about all the time, or the people who mean the most to me— my friends are. So, I'm going to keep the last Milo for me, and I think he'll be my traveling companion for the next little while so when I see the people I love, I can have them sign him for me.