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.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Reason 292

Video Game Interpretation. As a child of the 80's I've always fancied myself a bit of a gamer. As previously mentioned I still own my original NES and Super Nintendo and gleefully hook them up a few times a year to get my Super Mario fix. Heck, in high school I even spent a few afternoons testing games for Nintendo, something that always grants me cool points by my impressionable 6th graders. Well, Jason, this weekend I attended PAX, the Penny Arcade Expo, and had my mind blown by the level of passion and commitment some people in this country have in regard to gaming. And, let's be honest, the lack of hygiene and social skills was fairly impressive, too. PAX was started in 2004 by two Seattle geeks who write a web comic and thought it would be cool to celebrate all the weird and wonderful aspects of both video and board game culture; athletes are encouraged to stay home that weekend smashing beer cans on their heads, or whatever those muscled folk do. Over the years PAX's popularity has exploded - this past weekend 60,000 nerds and the people who love them filled Seattle's Convention Center to capacity, giving a shot to the Emerald City's economy and bringing downtown traffic to a screeching halt as drivers ogled scantily-clad ladies in anime outfits and gentlemen in homemade homages to Spandex-loving superheroes. My eyes will never be the same. Suffice it to say I was completely overwhelmed and totally out of my element. It was like I'd been dropped in a foreign country armed with only a granola bar and limited knowledge of retro games to help me survive. Luckily, my boyfriend (that's right, people!), whom I acquired in May, is a self-proclaimed geek who works as a software programmer, so I had my very own guide in this strange new world; all he asked for in compensation was a few tawdry sexual favors. A pretty good deal, I think. Since PAX is so popular I think it's safe to assume Seattle will host the shindig again next year. Fingers crossed, my rock star programmer boyfriend will still think I'm worth his time and will generously bequeath one of his company's 3-day passes to me so I can enjoy another trip to this alternate universe. If that's the case, Jason, you are welcome to be our 3rd wheel (trikes are way cooler than bikes, anyway). Since most of the PAX participants appear to be basement-dwellers who spend too much time playing World of Warcraft and watching their SIMs have sex, they've probably never enjoyed HIMYM or "I Love You, Man" so you'll be free to wander around the Exhibition Hall, glassy-eyed with wonder, without fear of being molested by a fat guy in a Spiderman suit. I'm pretty sure my boyfriend will happily school you on all things PAX-related without expectation of sexual favors. I bet dollars to donuts that Wil Wheaton, nerd king of the convention, wouldn't make the same offer.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Reason 291

Knowing when to quit. When witnessing someone give up on a task, like running a mile or patting one’s head while simultaneously rubbing one’s belly or even performing an at-home circumcision on your 3 month-old using an instructional YouTube video (yes folks, that actually happened this week), some people love to spout what they believe to be the following motivational cliché: winners never quit and quitters never win. Well, Jason, I say that’s hogwash! Sometimes quitting is exactly what a person should do. In fact, I’ve done it several times and miraculously my self-esteem didn’t plummet lower than the ratings for the final season of “Heroes”. In high school I participated in an exchange program that allowed me to attend a sister school in the swanky Boston suburb of Newton. Ever since my middle school years, when I spent thousands of hours swooning over New Kids on the Block, I had my heart set on going to college in Boston, so it seemed logical to test the east coast waters my junior year and go on exchange. Well, color me surprised when I arrived in Bean Town and everyone walked around with an invisible stick lodged firmly in their bums and my classmates tried to impress me with talk of getting wasted at parties with the male soccer players from a nearby school. Toto, I thought, we are definitely not in Kansas anymore. I was used to laid-back liberals from the “best coast” who swilled endless cups of Starbucks coffee and chatted excitedly about literature and film, instead of booze and hand jobs. My three-month stint in Massachusetts was cut short by a month or so and, though I felt a tad guilty about jumping ship, I was thrilled to be back in my rainy hometown among like-minded teenagers. For college I decided to stay in familiar territory and journey a thousand miles south or so to Scripps College outside of Los Angeles. I planned on working in the film industry after slaving away for four years and southern California just made sense. Plus, I had gone to an all girls’ school for eight years, so the vagina-friendly Scripps seemed like an excellent match. Well, Jason, I bet you can predict what happened. That’s right, I was fairly miserable so far from home (the suffocating heat, smog, endlessly brown environment, and lame parties just didn’t float my boat), so I packed up my bags in May with no intention of returning next Fall. Anyone sensing a theme? Flash forward three years when I have graduated from the University of Puget Sound in Tacoma (30 miles south of Seattle) with a useless degree in Sociology and no clue as to how I want to spend the next chunk of my life making money. The film industry was still calling to me, but I wasn’t ready to head back to L.A., so I joined Americorps with grand ideas about giving back to my community…in Maryland. Blerg. I agreed to participate in the program for 10 months, but somewhere around the 6-month mark a cloud of depression started following me around so, in order to maintain my usually sunny disposition, I bid farewell to my service comrades and flew home, vowing to never move away from the Seattle area again. So far, so good. Looking at my history a small-minded person may consider me to be a quitter. I prefer to see myself as someone who is smart enough to walk away from a miserable situation to avoid transforming into a murderous lunatic. As your friend, Jason, I promise not to scold you when you give up at something that is slowly sucking all the joy out of your life. In fact, I will applaud you for being wise enough to get the hell out of there and never look back (your involvement in Gulliver’s Travels was a fine opportunity to practice this philosophy; ah, hindsight). I guess ultimately it’s all about knowing what’s worth slogging through and, luckily for you, I’ve decided I’m not going to give up on this blog. It may take me another year to complete, but one day I will write the 365th reason why you should befriend me. Just like those sexy closeted men from Brokeback Mountain, I can’t quit you, Jason Segel. You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.