SYTYCD

If you don't understand the above the acronym, you will not understand the following post.

For the rest of you, let's talk.

So You Think You Think You Can Dance is the best reality show on TV. I will not argue with you on this point because you will be wrong. I will, however, explain my obsession.

1) The people featured on this show have an actual skill. Okay, maybe it's not a super marketable skill (how many contemporary jazz dancers does one city need?), but way better than being famous for a sex tape and/or being a housewife.

I mean, drink this in:

2) Okay, so maybe dancing statues in love isn't something you can quite wrap your head around. But anyone worth knowing loves hip hop. And people named Twitch.

3) The judges often make or break reality shows (see YES for Paula & Padma/NO for Ellen & Billy Joel's ex). The former dancing pros on SYTYCD actually know what they're talking about and/or they are so doped up on Lunesta they behave like this:

4) Cat Deely. I didn't get what a girl crush was until Cat. Heart her wardrobe. Her personality. Her saccharine sweet British accent. If she wasn't so tall, I'd put her in my pocket.

If you make time for "Hoarders" and "The Voice", I promise you won't be disappointed.

Thank You For Summer-ing

Hope you're sitting down for the following big reveal on day 3:

I'm just so-so on summer.

WHAT?! Blasphemy!

Fact. I secretly (or I suppose now, not-so-secretly) covet cold winter days that leave me feeling guilt-free for having spent the day on my couch catching up on bad TV, re'orging my closet for the 15th time, and maybe even sitting through a Kate Hudson movie I've seen (and don't like, but can't look away from).

In the summer, there's just so much PRESSURE to be outside. The sun. The outdoor eating (also not a favorite, to be discussed at a later date). The obligation to drink iced tea.

I like layers.

Know what else? I don't love the lake. I mean, I like the lake. Running along it can be lovely. It certainly makes our city unlike any other. But do I yearn for it in February while I'm curled up on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate? Nope.

As per usual, I sound super fun.

At the risk of contradicting myself, I will admit to liking the occasional gathering of people around an outdoor cooking machine.

Some people call it a BBQ.

For me to want to be at said event, it must include the following ingredients:

1) Beergaritas and guacamole.

 2) Favorites.

See? I'm easy to please.

p.s. Happy birthday, penguin.

This One Time, At Motorcycle Camp...

I work in advertising. It's not like Mad Men. I mean, there is more alcohol than a typical corporate environment. And there are couplings. And creatives think account people are idiots while account people think creatives are divas. So yah, maybe it is like Mad Men.

Anyway, not my point.

Though budgets aren't quite what they used to be, we do sometimes get to do some out of the box things, all in the name of research.

Most recently, a few of my work buddies and I spent a couple days in Laconia, NH at one of the largest motorcycle rallies of the year. Our assignment was to meet bikers, check out the booths, and see what people respond to. Basically, blend. And try not to embarrass ourselves.

FAIL.

I'm not a biker (surprise!). Prior to this trip, I had never even been on a bike (Vespas don't count). But I brought my very best leather jacket (thanks Urban Outfitters), and climbed on the back of that hog like I knew exactly what to do.

And you know what? I kind of loved it.

People who ride bikes are tough. They're intimidating. They are inherently cooler than I will ever be. Pretending to be one of them (even if they totally spotted me as a fake) allowed me to be someone else for a few days...Who doesn't love to escape now & then?

Here are some of my favorite pics...

                                                   Me and Aud blending.

                                                Tough girl.

                                                   Views.

                              In case my boss reads this - SEE - I was working, too.

                                         The Broken Spoke. Research.

                                                       See you at Sturgis!

The Art of Not Trying Too Hard

The last time I tried blogging (RIP gibbsbits.com), I felt this ridiculous pressure to make the blog a "success". I had no idea how to define "success", and therefore had no plan for how to achieve it. Any time anything in my life is attached to some sort of measurement goal, I am instantly filled with angst.  My little brother got the risk gene. See below.

I avoid risk almost as vehemently as I run from those creepy women who compliment my hair. I get it, I have good hair. But I don't want to sell your make up to my friends.

Anyway, this isn't to say I say that I always run from challenges (I'm getting better at staying put), but much like my parents did for my brother & I, I've set the bar low for SevenGrayFall. No one fails. Everybody wins.

This will be a place where I write about whatever strikes my fancy. I'll even say things like "strikes my fancy".

Maybe I'll share it widely. Maybe I won't. Maybe there will be cliffhanger posts every day like General Hospital. Maybe I'll be like James Frey and make stuff up. Maybe Oprah will come back from faux-retirement to interview me. No. One. Knows.

Here's what you CAN expect (I think):

1) There will be pictures. Why?

   a. because my brother (above, I'll let you figure out which one) says blogs don't work without them.

b. I recently bought a very expensive camera AND lucked my way into a talented boyfriend who takes pictures. VICTORY.

2) It will be wordy. I write like I talk. Often & effusively.

3) I will mock celebrity fashion. Share the occasional outfit post. Comment on pop culture. Provide general commentary on whatever I feel like sharing.

4) I commit to writing 5 days a week. I'm nothing if not loyal.

If more than 5 people read this, I'll be stunned. The impetus for this is not infamy. Just indulgent escape.

Read it or don't. Love it or don't. My therapist says journaling is important. She didn't mention making it public, but I only listen to about 1/2 of what she tells me anyway.

Signed,
This Girl