Jason says "read this blog!"
Just when I'm about to sign the DNR papers for this blog something comes along and inspires me to write another post. One of these days Jason Segel will come to his senses and beg me to befriend him. I just hope he isn't waiting to see the 365th reason. It may take years.



365 Reasons Why...An Explanation

Well, hello there (said in a very sexy voice). You're looking quite lovely today. Welcome to my blog. Feel free to take off your shoes and get comfortable, maybe leave a comment or two. This started out as kind of a funny thing to do after I blew a phone conversation with Jason, but I've found I really enjoy writing every day and researching new and interesting things about my future BFF. In January I met Jason at a comedy club and the few words we shared only reinforced my belief that he and I would get along famously. As a dear friend of mine recently said, "why wouldn't he want to be friends with you - you're awesome!" Perhaps the 365 reasons in this blog may just convince Jason of what I already know to be true: separately, our awesomeness is great; combined, it may be enough to take over the world. If you want to be one of my esteemed followers, simply click on the 'follow' button toward the bottom of the page. Come on, you know you want to.



Sunday, August 8, 2010

Reason 246

Accident prone. I'm pretty sure no one has ever described me as graceful (well, maybe when I'm on the dance floor and my mojo's set to high). I constantly drop small objects, bump into furniture, and trip over invisible cracks in the sidewalk. In high school I managed to slip down a couple of stairs and sprain both my ankles, and one of the high points of my college career was falling up a set of stairs twice in one day and having another student, who had witnessed both events, question me about my motor skills. If someone followed me around with a video camera I bet I could rake in big bucks on "America's Funniest Videos" (by the way, why is that show still on?!). My body is covered in a parade of cuts, scrapes and bruises because of my clumsiness. I'm sure during the summer months when more of my skin is exposed to the general public there are strangers who think I'm a battered woman. At least, I'm going to assume that's the reason for all those pitying looks. Why, just this morning in the shower I noticed a purple and yellow bruise about the size of a tennis ball on my left knee. Absolutely no idea how I earned that particular badge of ambulatory obliviousness. There is a bright spot to all this pain and awkwardness, though. My lack of grace makes everyone around me look like Baryshnikov in comparison. People will be awed by your fluidity when we walk down the street together, Jason. Strangers will mistake you for an Olympic-level ice skater or internationally ranked ballroom dancer and gaze at me in wonder, stumped as to why you're spending time with a spastic accident-prone gal like me. All I ask in exchange for this adoration, Jason, is that you take a break from those gob-smacked fans to help me up off the ground or dislodge my foot from that pesky hole. Then you can return to gliding down the street, teen girls swooning as you pass.

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