Friday bits and bites

First and foremost, happy birthday to Willow! Growing up, Willow and I had almost the exact same taste in guys. We had a racket going where one of us would date a guy and then decide he was weird, then the other would date him and eventually decide the same thing. Then we would get drunk and laugh about it. We were very fickle ladies, so usually the dating time would only be a couple weeks. At one point at the end of high school we were dating a couple of Colorado-brand punk-music lovin' farmer types and that was fun. Except my boyfriend was the type who always like to pay for dates and hers was the type to get out of paying whenever possible, so it made for some interesting double-dates. Then in college, we weren't in the same place geographically, so we went in different directions. Her freshman year bf was a drama guy with dyed hair and mine was an insomniac punk with dyed hair. She developed a soft spot for skinny arty guys and I rebelled by finding pot-smoking frat boys adorable. And then, of course, it was her who had the crush on J first, while I was making eyes at his buddy. And it's good that my crush was unrequited because that buddy turned out to be MIKE! No, I'm lying. Mike never lived in New York, but wouldn't that have been a better story? Anyway, happy birthday, baby; thanks for finding my love! (Let's work on some back story so this whole you with Mike thing rounds out our history better, 'kay?)

For those of you who thought I couldn't possibly be a bigger competitive eating nerd: you were so wrong.

The other day I was at the dermatologist (the goal of Colorado air is to deprive your skin of any moisture it might think about retaining) and the doctor asked me if I had any hobbies. I sat there stumped for a couple seconds, not because I couldn't think of my hobbies, but because I was trying to imagine how "creating fantasy competitive eating teams" and "reading" would offer him any insight into the condition of my skin. "Um," I said. "No sweatbands or anything?" he said, indicating where a sweatband would stretch across one's forehead. Ah. No, no sweatbands.

On the upside, he gave me some pills to take, which I noticed on the container are also dispensed for malaria. I started taking them at night and they give me extremely vivid dreams. In one, I competed in a donut eating competition and I did very well. I kept thinking, "This is so easy!" But then I was beat by Joey (1st), Sonya (2nd) and Tim (3rd) and I was humbled.

During a recent spin class, during which the instructor had on some loud techno dance music, I kept thinking this one song that was playing seemed very familiar. Eventually, it occurred to me that what we were listening to was a dance remix of the "Brokeback Mountain" theme. That means someone was all, "When that music doesn't crush my heart and make me want to bawl my eyes out, it sure does make me want to get down on the dance floor!" and then they put a hot beat behind it and my spin instructor was all: "Perfect!" and there I was exercising to the saddest love story brought to the big screen.

Usually on Fridays at the office, the front desk brings out a big basket of candy, which makes Fridays Candy Fridays, and thus worth looking forward to all week. But today there was no candy and I kinda feel betrayed. Like, "I went through this whole week for nothing?"