Wednesday, April 27, 2005

What do Kevin Costner, Christian Conn & Michael Buble have in common?

I am not the type of girl who gets "crushes". I am also not the "I hate men" girl. I don't hate my ex-boyfriends, in fact I am still in contact with almost all of them. Literally. Although I'm terribly A.D.D and like every creative person you've met, my mind is all over the place... in the romantic realm I'm pretty sane.

There are a few exceptions.

When I was in 7th grade the movie Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves came out and I was inexplicably impressed by and drawn to this movie. So much so that I convinced my parents to buy the VHS as a Christmas present for me , which I then watched approximately 27.8 times daily, due to a completely ridiculous crush on of all people, Kevin Costner, yes really. I don't know why. Most people watch this movie and assume this had to do with the scene where he is naked and showering in the waterfall (yes the ASS scene), but this would be completely untrue, it actually had to do with the romantic banter between Robin & Marian. Fortunately for me (and my family!) this illness did not last long.

The next time I was blindsighted by such a sickness was in my senior year of college. I was a theatre major at a pretty small school in middle-of-nowhere, OH and we had an acting troupe visit the school, performing and hosting workshops for a weekend. The actor who hosted the workshop was named Christian Conn and not only was he "dreamy", but brilliant in the sense that I had never before met someone who honestly enjoyed talking at lengths about the works of Anton Chekhov, Shakespeare, Ben Folds Five and other various artists. Also, he invited my friends and me to his hotel room after the local bar closed for more beer. Although I had a serious boyfriend at the time who has since become my husband, I was impaired enough by the intellectual stimulus to allow him to walk me back to my dorm room. not bright. I will quickly point out that I did not allow him to come UP to my dormroom - I'm not that stupid, I almost certainly would not have been able to resist his charms. (A week later my best friend who was studying at a school in Pittsburgh, where he visited was charmed by the same fellow and never fails in reminding me he was in fact quite skilled.)

I bring this up because earlier this year a lovely young vocalist guest starred on the NBC show, LasVegas and my husband and I found his rendition of Come Fly With Me, lilting and enchanting, so again I made a request on my Christmas list time for CD's by Michael Buble. Two months later my husband gave my his newest CD, and despite that fact that some of my friends mock me for liking "elevator music" I love him. I love his smooth, saucy voice and I love his Rat Pack exterior. And its not fading.

This brings me to a new point. My husband for the past few years has been compiling a "list". This is of course the list of five women whom he could have sex with were he to ever actually meet them. I had always refused to allow such a list, until I saw Michael Buble. The fact that I went from not allowing The Mister to have a list, to entertaining a list of my own concerns me, but it makes him happy.

My LIST (in no particular order):
  • Michael Buble
  • Josh Duhamel
  • Paul Leydon
  • Blair Underwood
  • (I've forgotten who holds this, but I can't resist a man who can sing so...) Kenny Chesney

Just you watch. One of these days Christian Conn will make it big and no one will believe my story.

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

I'm sick of the positive front

Although I am not still unemployed, I am underemployed. In many ways this is worse. I am working for a company I respect (all the companies in this post shall remain nameless, but I will say this is a major fast-food company), but I am working in a position I detest. I am not overly fond of my co-workers and the pay is actually the same for 30 hours as I was getting on unemployment - about half what I need to support my law student husband and myself. great. This is humiliating and frustrating and the worst part is that when people in my life hear I have a job they expect me to be thrilled. I'll be thrilled when I can make it through a day without wanting to break down and cry because I can't buy gas. or milk. I'll be thrilled when I have a job that allows provide, especially if that job is a job (god forbid!) that I like.

I had an interview for such a job recently, the company is a large retail company (yes you've heard of them) and the position is...exciting. I enjoy thinking about it, the possibility of such a job belonging to me is freeing. I find myself thinking of my name with the title following it, voicing quiet little prayers in my to god and the hiring manager of said company. My interview went extremely well, all the signs are very positive and I was told they would reach a decision by late last week or early this week.

Today on my way home in the gray soggy afternoon, again and again I voiced my little prayer, "please let them hire me, please let them offer me the job!" But alas, I arrived home to a once more empty answering machine.