Confessions of a Teenage Beauty Queen

As I was looking in the mirror this morning, the open bathroom window that was merely supposed to bring in a cool morning breeze was also bringing in the sound of names over a bad sound system followed by cheers and applause.

It must be graduation at the high school down the street.

It hit me, as I was slathering a generous heap of anti-wrinkle cream across my forehead, that I graduated from high school exactly 25 years ago.

It's not that it made me feel really old or depressed, I was just a little shocked that I've hit such a milestone.

Well, ok, I lied... it did make me feel kind of old, which was maybe a little depressing...

As I listened to the names reverb through the school district speakers, I started thinking about my senior year and began to consider how much of that girl is still who I am now.

If you ignore the world-is-going-to-end teenage moments like showing up to the senior prom and another girl has the exact same dress on, (please note this is never good, but my high school was SUPER small so it was an extra big fashion disaster), or the time I missed curfew and found my mother sitting in a chair right behind the front door, or the time my shoe came untied during a pep rally while I was performing a cheerleading dance routine, then I have to say... my senior year was pretty magical...

I was a cheerleader, although I really sucked at it because I thought jumping around yelling at people to get excited about watching our mediocre football team get trampled by bigger kids from bigger schools was kind of lame... especially when it was freezing cold outside. But being a cheerleader truly rocked... because you know, those super cute skirts! I was editor-in-chief of the yearbook which might sound geeky but I loved making creative decisions and most of all being in charge. My boyfriend of course, was the popular local rock star who was a whole 35 minutes away at college. He came home every weekend and his band would play at an old pig ranch in the middle of nowhere and we'd make out in his car. Good times. To top it all off I reigned as queen of the town having been named Miss Wrightwood the summer before my senior year.

Like I said... magical.

I've only been back to my alma mater stomping grounds a handful of times since graduation. My parents moved away and the majority of my high school friends and I got out of that small town and stayed out. And then Facebook happened.

I've had coffee with a high school friend in Chicago, drinks with another girlfriend in San Jose and even attended a mini multi-class reunion in Las Vegas. And a couple months ago I got the Facebook invite to see that same high school BF reunite with the boys for a gig at the Yodeler. Of course I had to go... hopeful that an evening spent with old flames and crushes would provide marvelous material for my blog. But instead of leaving with a spicy story, I just came away from that night with a grateful heart. I realized how much the people I grew up with influenced who I am today... I felt grounded and connected to a place I thought I didn't belong to anymore.

Anyway... how much of that girl is still me? Well, I still make decisions based upon how cute the clothes are, I make my living as a creative director, I'm still wildly attracted to artistic boys be it musicians, writers, actors, photographers... So it turns out the only thing that I've left in my past is that tiara.

Well, actually I still have it... I just keep it tucked away in a safe place. It cracked years ago and while still in one piece, it's really fragile.

Click.

Somehow over the years I think I've lost some of that care-free confidence that allowed me to enter and win that contest. I don't need rhinestones any more, but I need to work on rediscovering some of that inner sparkle. I would also like to look that fabulous in a bathing suit again. Yes... there was a bathing suit competition involved...

6 (pack) Reasons to watch World Cup Soccer

So, I'm not a soccer fan but I think I'm coming down with World Cup Fever. Turns out there are some very good reasons to tune in... Here are my top six:

6. There's an app for that. There actually IS a World Cup app that yes, I did indeed download to my iPhone that tells me schedules, scores, and whatever I need to know or more importantly what some hot guy I meet might want to know. I'm pretty sure this makes me a super cool chick.

5 .Goal Celebrations. The passion and energy from the fans and players is crazy. Unfortunately, it is now against FIFA rules for a player to remove his shirt to celebrate a goal... but I keep watching hoping someone will risk a yellow card in exchange for a flash of those abs.

4. You don't really need to know what's going on. It's like watching fireworks... you just have to ooohh, aahh and oh pretty much whenever you want and you'll fit right in with everyone around. Goals only happen a handful of times in the entire 90 min of play so it's pretty obvious when to be enthusiastically ecstatic or disappointed... hand gestures are helpful. The tricky part is figuring out what team to root for...

3. It's Cosmopolitan. For one month you can embrace an international camaraderie and exuberance for a sport that brings the whole world together. It's also a sport that is much more fun to watch with other people, especially if they aren't American. I've got my local Italian place where guys will scream, cry, throw things at the TV... it's crazy! I have no idea what they're screaming, but of course anything sounds amazing in Italian.

2. The players are unbelievably hot. In fact it might even be a rule that you have to be hot to play soccer. The best part is that they are completely unobstructed by cumbersome helmets and padding. OOOOH LA LA!

1. Hot guys watch soccer. And hot guys watch soccer en masse. Morning, noon or night whenever the games are on, restaurants/bars are packed with gorgeous men. Fit, gorgeous men.

So, for the next month I will pretend like it doesn't annoy me that you can end a game all tied-up, and instead enjoy my lunchtime field trips to local pubs where I can enjoy the views. Maybe one of these adventures will help me reach my GOOOOAAAAALLLLLL!!!!!!!!!

"Screw Cupid"

I read "Screw Cupid: the sassy girl's guide to picking up hot guys" primarily because of the title and the hot pink cover.

Written by Samantha Scholfield, this second book on the one wiley girl book review is supposed to teach girls how to make the first move.

She starts the book by recounting her personal dating journey...taking matters in to her own hands after realizing she wasn't getting hit on because she had a flat chest. Uhm, ok. After describing one humiliating cream-pie-in-the-face pick-up attempt after another, she comes to the conclusion that it's best to pretend you just want some very important information from a dude. For example if they have the time, or my personal favorite from her arsenal of pick up lines, whether guys think Angelina Jolie is hot because knowing this information will settle a debate you're having with a friend of yours. Ugh...

Her point is that if you approach a guy he will instantly think you want to have sex with him and that will cause him to instantly blow you off. Huh? Somehow asking a neutral question puts a guy more at ease and magically makes you more attractive. In my opinion it could also make you more annoying... take this Seinfeldesque opener she suggests you use when approaching a group of men at a bar:

"YOU: Hey, guys, tell me something: What is the deal with guys and the remote? I was over at my girlfriend's house earlier with a bunch of guys to watch the game. Every time the commercials came on, they freaked out if we tried to change the channel. What is the deal with that?

THEM: blah blah blah

YOU: What is it, exactly, they think girls are going to do with the remote?

THEM: blah blah blah

YOU: How do you expect girls to learn how to use your crazy-ass remote system if you guys are always hanging on to it? How good would you get programming the TiVo if girls always did it for you?

THEM: blah blah blah

YOU: We have this guy friend who bought Tivo a year ago, and we've hardly seen him since. What's the deal with that? It's like he's found a spouse.

THEM: blah blah blah"

"blah, blah blah"? I'm not sure why she doesn't tell us what the guys were saying but I'm guessing it's because they were probably just staring at her with a WTF? look on their faces, or they were busy winding up to hurl another chocolate cream pie in her face.

Ultimately her point is dating is a numbers game, so odds are if you approach enough men eventually one will be charmed by your Jedi mind trick chatter.

OK... I agree that it's good to put yourself out there... to be friendly and talk to guys instead of waiting around for someone to talk to you. I'm working on that because I am horrible at it. But, the problem I have with Samantha's philosophy is the assumption that guys are retarded so you have to trick them into having a conversation with you. I'm also a horrible liar, so telling a group of guys that my friends and I were just discussing some random topic would definitely not come off as genuine.

And, I think being genuine is one of my best qualities.

"That Girl"

Let's face it... we've all been "that girl" or "that guy."

And, let's face it... the only reason I read "Don't Be That Girl" by Dr. Travis Stork is because...well...he's super hot.

I figured it would be entertaining to read a "Bachelor"s perspective on women and dating... and after all he IS a doctor.

In a nutshell, here is the "wiley girl" recap of the super hot doctor's book: Don't be "that girl" because guys are super smart and never ignore red flags in their pursuit of the absolutely perfect woman. But if you are "that girl" don't be too hard on yourself because you probably have some good qualities... you'll just never find a boyfriend. OK, he does deliver this information with a little more tact than my recap... and I agree there are a lot of immature woman out there who probably could use a kick in the ass by a super hot doctor.

When I read the "Desperate Girl" chapter I realized that the title of my blog alone would have the super hot doctor labeling me desperate. But, I know that super hot, super SMART Dr. Travis has a sense of humor. Surely he understands it's about the journey not the destination and surely he is able to find the entertainment in the quest for love. After all... super hot doctor took a leave of absence from his career as an ER doctor to go to a foreign country (really?...France?) to find the love of his life amongst a group of Hollywood handpicked "very normal" lovely young women. Oh yeah, and it was on TV. I think the super hot doctor and I actually have a lot in common (ignoring my sight-of-blood issues) and neither of us are desperate.

There is a difference between being crazy in general and acting like a lunatic when the wrong guy gets under your skin and in to your heart like a wicked fish hook. Like I said, we've all been there... but hopefully we learn from our behaviors, laugh at our mistakes and recognize that nobody is perfect. I believe that there are partners out there for all of us... lovers & friends that bring balance to our lives and bring out the best in us. I actually HAVE to believe this theory because there is no other way for me to wrap my head around how all those crazy bitches out there can be in stable relationships... oh shit, now super hot doctor might think I'm "Bitter Girl."

Turns out Dr. Travis's Rx no matter what your crazy girl disease is- be it Agenda Girl, Yes Girl, Drama Queen Girl, Bitter Girl, Insecure Girl, Desperate Girl, Working Girl, or Lost Girl - is to work out. Could it be true? Could being in shape be the cure-all for every irrational thought, every annoying emotional outburst? Or maybe... the super hot doctor knows that a girl with a hot body, no matter how crazy she is, gets a pass...

Time for me to hit the gym... oh crap... now super hot Dr. Travis is going to think I'm "Insecure Girl"...