I'm happy again.
Example #267 of why my coworkers are fun people:
Almost immediately after our usual morning meeting today, my phone rang. It was David from the art department. (There are two Davids in the art department: One has a ponytail, one has a beard, though the one with the beard shaved last week so never mind.) Ponytail David helped me manhandle taxis during the transit strike last winter; he's a completely hilarious, fascinating, comfortable person to be around. Anyway, I figured he was calling about the redesign on this week's beauty story. You know, business. I picked up my phone:
ME: Hey, you.
DAVID: [in a sexy, husky whisper] I know you told me never to call you at work.
Example #268 of why my coworkers are fun people:
Not long after David made me giggle and blush and invoke all-around panic in the HR department, six-foot-two-and-a-half James sent me these photos of him windmilling and "Singing in the Rain"ing:
Because why wouldn't he be doing these things?
On the way home from work, I sat next to the most gorgeous man on the train. His facial features were angular and striking, beautiful lips, he was tall and toned, and his skin was the color of dark chocolate and it glistened like the waters twinkling along the beaches of the Galapagos. I'm normally not into muscles, but holy crap and oy vey. He was wearing a tank top, and throughout the entire ride, I valiantly fought the urge to lean over and lick his shoulder.
There was one problem: He was wearing black gym shoes. Black gym shoes are one of my biggest turnoffs — and I don't mean soccer shoes or Converse, which are inherently hot. I'm talking chunky Reeboks and the like. Ooooogly. It makes no sense, but growing up, no matter how appealing a guy was, if black gym shoes were any part of the equation, I'd run like hell. It's just one of those things. I just don't get them.
So that helped. I didn't want to lick him anymore. I casually looked elsewhere on the train, especially at the head of the man to my right. He was wearing a brand-new Yankees cap, so brand-new that the size sticker was still on the bill. (He's a 7 3/4, if you're interested.) I wondered if I should say something.
Then I heard some paper crinkling, and I turned back to The Adonis, and he was eating from a pink package of strawberry Welch's Fruit Snacks. I was smitten all over again.
So my question to you is this: Does Unexpected Fun Candy trump Unflattering Footwear in the Rules of Attraction?
(By the way, this is all fine with Josh. This week, Julianne Moore has been doing the talk-show circuit, and he's so enamored of her that he doesn't even sit down when he watches her humor Conan O'Brien. He stands in front of the TV, occasionally interjecting treats like, "God. Nobody laughs like she does," and "Man, is she something." So it's all good.)
Almost immediately after our usual morning meeting today, my phone rang. It was David from the art department. (There are two Davids in the art department: One has a ponytail, one has a beard, though the one with the beard shaved last week so never mind.) Ponytail David helped me manhandle taxis during the transit strike last winter; he's a completely hilarious, fascinating, comfortable person to be around. Anyway, I figured he was calling about the redesign on this week's beauty story. You know, business. I picked up my phone:
ME: Hey, you.
DAVID: [in a sexy, husky whisper] I know you told me never to call you at work.
Example #268 of why my coworkers are fun people:
Not long after David made me giggle and blush and invoke all-around panic in the HR department, six-foot-two-and-a-half James sent me these photos of him windmilling and "Singing in the Rain"ing:
Because why wouldn't he be doing these things?
On the way home from work, I sat next to the most gorgeous man on the train. His facial features were angular and striking, beautiful lips, he was tall and toned, and his skin was the color of dark chocolate and it glistened like the waters twinkling along the beaches of the Galapagos. I'm normally not into muscles, but holy crap and oy vey. He was wearing a tank top, and throughout the entire ride, I valiantly fought the urge to lean over and lick his shoulder.
There was one problem: He was wearing black gym shoes. Black gym shoes are one of my biggest turnoffs — and I don't mean soccer shoes or Converse, which are inherently hot. I'm talking chunky Reeboks and the like. Ooooogly. It makes no sense, but growing up, no matter how appealing a guy was, if black gym shoes were any part of the equation, I'd run like hell. It's just one of those things. I just don't get them.
So that helped. I didn't want to lick him anymore. I casually looked elsewhere on the train, especially at the head of the man to my right. He was wearing a brand-new Yankees cap, so brand-new that the size sticker was still on the bill. (He's a 7 3/4, if you're interested.) I wondered if I should say something.
Then I heard some paper crinkling, and I turned back to The Adonis, and he was eating from a pink package of strawberry Welch's Fruit Snacks. I was smitten all over again.
So my question to you is this: Does Unexpected Fun Candy trump Unflattering Footwear in the Rules of Attraction?
(By the way, this is all fine with Josh. This week, Julianne Moore has been doing the talk-show circuit, and he's so enamored of her that he doesn't even sit down when he watches her humor Conan O'Brien. He stands in front of the TV, occasionally interjecting treats like, "God. Nobody laughs like she does," and "Man, is she something." So it's all good.)
Labels: food, friends, New York, photos, pop culture, the hubs, work
posted by Marla at 1:19 PM
1 Comments:
Well, that's a very nice thing for you to say — thank you. (Unless you're being sarcastic, in which case, suck it.) If you do indeed come back as me, could you please make sure I exercise a little more and eat fewer french fries? I really don't think you'll enjoy all the bloating I'm experiencing in this life.
Other than the bloating, though, I think you really may enjoy me. It's not so bad.
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