Well, yes, that is what I like to scream whenever anyone talks about Britney Spears. But we’ll get to her in a second, because that phrase also applies to me, and this blog.
To tell you the truth, I have not been in much of a blogging mood lately… just not really feeling it, been dealing with some other stuff. But over the past week, people have been coming out of the woodwork (hello, Daniel Conroy’s mom in Memphis who I have never met?!) to tell me they missed reading my nonsense. And that is a phenomenal feeling! So, this is how it’s gonna go: you don’t have to check back every day anymore, because I am not promising one a week anymore. But keep it on your favorites (that means YOU, Jennifer Bragman), because every so often I’m gonna surprise you!
But enough about me. Let’s get to BRITNEY, YALL! The comeback is in full force, she’s back with a vengeance, and it’s her world again – we’re just living in it. Yesterday was her birthday and NOT ONLY did I rush my cute butt out to Target at lunch and bought the deluxe version of her CD (yes, you read that right, I forsook a FUCKING MEAL), but I also bought myself a little present :)
BRITNEY SPEARS CIRCUS TOUR CONCERT TICKETS!
That’s right, come April 16th, 2009, you can find me at the Staples Center with Greene Bean and Bailey J screaming my fucking head off for Brit. She lives, yall, SHE LIVES!
(On a more serious note, I am so impressed with the way she has gotten her shit together. As someone who grew up loving Britney, it was really sad watching her spiral out of control earlier this year… I know I had some fun calling her a trainwreck, but I am SO GLAD she has pulled it together. I watched her MTV documentary on Sunday night, and it really gave me some perspective on her life. I think she understands how bad she fucked up and is now doing everything she can to get back to normal. I am so happy she is surrounded by positive and supportive people who really love her and care about her. Viva la Brit FOREVER!)
I’m looking forward to some fun upcoming events… after a one-year hiatus, the Dysfunctional Family Vacation is back in full swing and in a few short weeks, the whole crew is heading for Cancun for some fun in the sun. BELIEVE ME, you’ll get a post out of that one. I’m also going to Dallas for Gerrick’s birthday and a Pat Green concert (yes, I listen to other music besides Brit.) Also, I’ll be celebrating New Years in Santa Fe with the Rubensteins at their new snow house (the winter equivalent of a beach house), which should be fab. Julie and I have lots of cheesy posed pictures, but snow is new territory for us…
Oooh, funny story before I go! Actually, this story is part of the reason why I’m blogging again – right after it happened I was like, “This shit needs to be on my blog, stat.”
So today is Brynn’s birthday (happy birthday B!) and on Monday, before our weekly Gossip Girl date, I told her to pick a place and I’d take her out to dinner. She chose 17th Street Café on Montana. Fine. She picks me up, we drive over, find a bomb parking spot, and walk into the restaurant. Right as we walk in, a man comes over and greets us.
Man: What’s going on?
Us: Um… nothing, what’s going on with you?
Man: Not too much. Hey, I’m Kevin by the way.
Us: Hi, Brynn and Jordan.
Man: SO nice to meet you guys. Where are you going to sit?
Us: Um, wherever you want to put us is fine…
Man: How about over there?
Us: Okay, sure.
Weird intro but whatever, we’re hungry so we move on. We follow him to the table. Brynn sits down, I put my bag down and go to the bathroom to pee. When I get back, Brynn is sitting there with a full glass of wine in front of her. “He gave me free wine!” she tells me. Bomb. I sit down and look around. Weirdly, the restaurant is full of older folks wearing nice clothes. No one has menus. No one is eating. I get a weird vibe.
“I think we crashed a private party,” I say.
Brynn says no. I think yes. I get up and walk to the front of the restaurant. Sure enough, in HUGE LETTERS on the front door is a sign.
"Sorry - Closed for private function."
TRUE FUCKING STORY. WE CRASHED A PRIVATE PARTY. I run back to Brynn, pull the wineglass out of her hand, and drag her to the door. On our way out, we pass Kevin. “Sorry we crashed your party,” I mumble.
HOW EMBARASSING. ONLY ME!
So that’s it, basically. Work is fine, the apartment is FABULOUS, I’ve got a hot new trainer (very sexy, does not put up with any of my bs when I complain about climbing the stairmaster, enjoys when I teach him Yiddish words like “schlep”), and a black man is our president. Life is good!