August 25, 2010

D-Bags

So many of you know that the most awesome show, the Vampire Diaries films here in Atlanta. Which means that I firmly believe that my single co-worker, holy guacamole phrase user and beautiful, single blonde friend should randomly meet Ian Somerhalder and run away to Tahiti with him on some sort of shotgun wedding wherein I can be a last minute bridesmaid.

Turns out that Mr. Somerhalder is not only a smoking hot bloodsucker, but in person, he's quite the gent.

Stella and I often watch some of the episodes together, and when Mr. Somerhalder comes on, she'll kind of squeal and say Daddy, which is awesome. Yes, I hide her eyes during the vampire attacks, or wave Elmo feverishly in her face as a diversion. Now, Stella smirks at Paul Wesley, in a kind of toddler you're not hot enough way. Apparently, however, this slightly less attractive vampire, who should by default be nicer....turns out to be quite the giant d-bag. Who knew.

My source for this information is really twelve times removed. But I like to think that: 1) because I live in Atlanta, and 2) because I know someone who knows someone who may have met Mr. Somerhalder once... or waved across the room... that I have scoop.

I like scoop. And I like vampire scoop, like doled out in this month's issue of Rolling Stone - the one with the gory True Blood cover. Actually, I wasn't interested too much in Rolling Stone as a stand alone magazine until the fake blood cover (oh, and Lady Gaga's completely airbrushed cover). My almost three year old son picked up the magazine tonight, saw the messy cover, and said, Goodness, that's a mess. Sticky mess! Oh my!

Yes, I get it. You goody two-shoes parents: don't have Rolling Stone lying around for the toddlers to read. D-bags. If that bothers you, then you must have missed my Sports Illustrated swimsuit folly.

And yes, I am calling people d-bags. Me.

The person who has a ticket to the New Kids on the Block cruise to the Bahamas.

And I feel like parents, in general, are the biggest d-bags of all. Is it because we are trying so hard to be sane, do the right things by our kids, snag some sleep? And in turn, we say things like "up and at 'em" or "golly gee, you look fancy."

I have always been a nerd, but by golly (there it is again), if I am not tripling in nerdiness by the second. I also understand that the nerd and the d-bag are two entirely different creatures. But I do think the nerd and the d-bag are adjacent landowners.

So now, my simple goal is to prevent the d-bag from setting up a fence on my land and encroaching on my nerdiness.

I need a nap. How nerdy.

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