Manny Waters Weekend Predictions

• Tara will find the white deer in the woods on his death bed during a 6am run that no one wants to go on.  She then will revive him, in dramatic fashion, and Disney will make a movie about their new found friendship (after the 2nd 830 am walk/run that everyone will finally join her on).
• Drew will somehow cross the line while playing the questions game with Mr. Clack (something about plastic parts); Dave will interrupt the awkward silence that will ensue with a comment about an article he read on foxnews.com, but will have a difficult time providing details about the article because he's hopped up on too much sugar from t-bone's cookies and cherry coke.
• Danny and JA will perform cheer stunts in the lake.  Danny will 'accidentally' drop her head first into the shallow water, then will giggle and splash water on her bleeding head (3rd grade's fun!)
• JT will make out with a lonely mountain man at the Pea Patch; he'll have her at "Where'd you get that there plaid?"
• That same faithful night at the Pea Patch, Katie will dance with a pool cue to a Miley Cyrus song I play on the jukebox and break her ankle when she forgets the pole isn't attached the the ceiling. We all spend the wee hours of Friday night at the local hospital. Bed pans are fun.

If there was a bucket...

In this segment of, "If there was a bucket," we're exploring the phenomenon of the kitten heel.  In my world, I'm either in flats or teetering around on 5 inch platforms. There is zero room in my closet for any footwear lacking an identity (Am I a heel? Am I not?). I'm turning the mic over to my brilliant hometown cohort, Emily (aka Emilson) Meudt, who brought this frivolous excuse for footwear to my attention the other day:


"Can you explain to me the purpose of "heeled" slides as well as kitten heels?? Or at least point me in the direction of good looking ones? I kinda want to vomit when I see them. In no way shape or form does a kitten heel make a woman's calf look good. Or her butt, which let's face it, is half the point of wearing heels. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings and you own a pair, but please say it's only one pair. Also, I didn't want to hurt other kitten heeled slide wearers out there. That is all." -Emilson

I too am sorry if you're a kitten heel wearer, but go glam or go home.

Tipping Point: American Fashion

My lease is up in September so instead of moving all my stuff in one giant/stressful move I've started to slowly relocate my belongings into Dave's condo, bit by bit. I started with the wine rack and glasses, followed by some winter coats and boots.  Although I'm trying to make this process as painless for him as possible, I knew the day would come when he would stop and say, "Wait...THAT'S coming in here?"  Last night the tipping point was my American Fashion coffee table book.  I began to bring a few decorative pieces into the condo: some candles, books, white spined magazines, etc., all of which he was fine with (or just hasn't noticed yet), but there must be something overtly feminine about this particular book that frightens him. We were sitting on the couch watching SVU (standard) when he looked over to the wine rack and saw "American Fashion" in big black letters along the spine of my favorite coffee table took and replied with, "Woah woah woah...American Fashion??? Where did THAT come from???" I believe he thinks all of my girly belongings will be confined to the second bedroom where he doesn't have to see any of it on a daily basis.  Hmmm, maybe I'll bring my framed Chanel MET print over tomorrow; perfect for the foyer!

Justin Timberlake in Egypt

Always entertaining and too brilliant for his own good, my pseudo brother Hunter recently embarked on a two year adventure in Egypt for graduate school.  I highly recommend following his hysterical yet insightful blog >> http://bradleyhmoore.blogspot.com/
Even though it's only been one week, thus far we've learned that his name "Hunter" is also slang for one's man-ness and Egyptians have a great deal of respect for women. And by "a great deal" I mean zero.

ps. Katie and I refer to him at Justin because there's a slight resemblance. Sorry if you were anticipating some sort of juicy celebrity gossip post :-)

Idiots

Pretty amazing video...
http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/8063d74c6c/idiots-with-zoe-saldana-kate-bosworth

Something You'd Write to YM About

Remember those embarrassing stories you used to read in mags like YM and Seventeen when you were in middle school? "Oh I totally farted in front of my crush....I was mortified....I can never show my face in English again..." Well I need a new word for mortified. Dave's Dad, Dr. Bartz, was kind enough to take us out for a round of golf last Sunday at his country club in the 'burbs. Sunday was also the day after Blackout 17 and needless to say Dave and I were struggling a little bit.  But we started off the round feeling refreshed by the fresh air and we ready to get our golf on.
My first and second shots began to veer right for some reason, which was a problem I thought I had corrected 2 years ago. Hole #12 comes along and I shank my drive so I have a long second shot. Naturally I pull out my trusty 3 wood and get ready to take a shot. Well, we were playing ready golf and Dr. B was up ahead to the right looking for his ball...I think you know where this is going.
So I take my swing and hit a line drive slightly to the right and directly at Dr. B's cart.  I was so in shock by what was about to go down that I couldn't even muster up a "FORE." SMACK! My ball strikes Dr. B right in the quad.  For about 3 seconds, it felt as if time stood still.  I dropped my club looked at Dave and didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or scream for help.  Dr. B immediately took off for the halfway house to get some ice, but at the time it seemed as if he was sooo mad, he was just going to be finished for the day. When all was said and done, we had a drink afterwards and somehow got an invite back to play. Maybe next time I'll leave the deadly 2 wood in my bag...

Hives in the City

Ok kids, I'm back!

After nearly a month of nothing, I finally have the time to give a little update on what's new and exciting.  Here's a little 27th bday re-cap of Dave and my first trip to NYC together...which I have a feeling won't happen again for a long, loooonnng time. This trip also represented the beginning of the hive epidemic, which plagued my existence for about 3 weeks.

Although this trip was a much different experience than when I used to visit Katie in the city, she managed to still add a bit of Katie-ness by having a fabulous bottle of champagne sent to our room upon arrival to the Empire (yes that’s chez Chuck Bass on GG).  On Friday DB and I walked across Central Park, meandered around the MET, and played around 5th Ave for a little bit.   For my bday, Dave bought me these amazing gunmetal metallic Capri-style sandals which were custom made on the spot at Bendel's.  I've worn them essentially every day since the trip, to the point to where I think I need to have rubber put on the bottom.  Amazing shoes from an amazing BF! (I recently changed Dave's homepage to this blog, a change he has no idea how to undo, so every time he boots up IE my blog appears...ha). Friday night, we had one of our top 3 favorite dinners ever so far as a couple at Stanton Social and it was definitely worth the hype. I even topped off the dinner with 2 of my own red velvet twinkies...bliss.

Saturday night, Dave and I ventured out too Brooklyn with his good friend Nick and his wonderful GF Alex to frolic amongst hipsters in their natural habitat.  After dinner at Brooklyn’s finest backstreet pizza joint (even though I’m not a big za fan, it was still fairly decent) we meandered around the neighborhood in search a  pre-train back to the city beverage. A $15 cover, a strange abandoned conversion van,some anti-establishment art/graffiti, and some sore feet later (didn’t get the memo about wearing flats instead of my 5.5” Gucci platform birthday sandals on the trek to BK), we ended up in someone’s garage with a tiki bar, stripper pole, and karaoke machine.  Not really my ideal place to ring in my 27th year of life. 1 drink turns in to 2 drinks, which turns into shots, which turns into me stopping drinking so I didn’t blackout in some random warehouse in BK. We find the train to get back into the city and all I want to do is sit outside somewhere at a table and have some celebratory bday drinks  (it was a perfect temperature outside).  We ended up at a basement bar which, consequently, completely destroys and dinner buzz I still had and I waved goodbye to my birthday night out. No shots, no cake, no bday song, no bday drink…nothing.  Was it my worst birthday ever? Probably wasn’t as bad as my 16th when I was accidently stood up (long story). Either way, looking forward to officially becoming gross next year (28 is my scary age).