The Laminated List - Updated

I'm carefully peeling back the laminate and updating the list. Looking over it, I've realized three things:

A) I dig older men. 80% of my list is comprised of men within two years of 40. Since I'm almost 27, I'm OK with that. It would be way creepier if my list was comprised of dudes like Taylor Lautner and Justin Bieber (who is that kid, anyway?)

B) I dig actors. 80% of my list is comprised of men who earn their ducats pretending to be someone else.

C) I dig men named David...or a variant of.

So, without further ado, here for your pleasure (but mostly mine) is the updated Laminated List.


5.



Name: David Boreanaz
Age: 40
Occupation: Actor

I'm not a vampire fetishist. The sight of blood revolts me, I'm a big morning person, think everyone looks better with a tan and being a vegetarian, that whole carnivorous diet thing? Yeah, that ain't working. But, if I had to pick a vampire to lust after, it would be David Boreanaz's Angel. He's got a soul, he's been known to crack a funny ever now and then, he's got the sartorial taste of a gay man, he can wear a suit like no other and he could kick Sparkles' ass from here to Transylvania, no problem. Also, dude's got a killer smile. I've always been a sucker for that.


4.



Name: Dave Grohl
Age: 40
Occupation: Musician

I'm kind of conflicted on this one. Part of me wants to be his BFF -- hang out, drink beer, eat really good pizza, talk about music...and then, he starts playing music and I get the inexplicable urge to fling my boyshorts at him. Hmmm...funny, that.


3.



Name: Sam Trammell
Age: 38
Occupation: Actor

Hello new addition! Sam Trammell plays shapeshifter Sam Merlotte on True Blood and since the first episode, I've wanted to grab him, throw him down on the bar and recreate scenes from several R-rated movies. It's the hair -- sandy, salt and peppery -- and the mouth. It inspires all sorts of lascivious thoughts. Also inspiring lascivious thoughts? His butt. Not gonna lie -- it's pretty rockin'. Also rockin'? The fact that he attended both Brown and the University of Paris. Smart = sexy and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

2.



Name: John Krasinski
Age: 29
Occupation: Actor

I totally agree with Andrea -- John is the kind of guy who would get up in the middle of the night to get you a glass of water. He's handsome, he's sweet and he's uproariously funny (case in point). Emily Blunt is a lucky girl (and you know what? So am I because Dan always gets me water, he's gorgeous, sweet and makes me laugh so hard, I cry).

1.



Name: Ron Livingston
Age: 42
Occupation: Actor

And topping the list again is Ron Livingston. The mere mention of his name turns me into a blushing, utterly inarticulate slip of a girl who can do little more than grin like an idiot, play with her hair and make indecipherable noises. I essentially revert back to a seventh grader with a crush. So, what is it about Ron Livingston that lights my fire? Basically, he seems like a really decent guy. He's been in two of my favorite movies of all time (Swingers and Office Space), I like his laugh and I really like the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. Silly, really but when have crushes (especially crushes on celebrities that you will thankfully never meet) been anything but?


And on the flip side -- a list of men who I'm attracted to for reasons that no-one can even begin to fathom but I'm going to valiantly try and explain them anyway. I.E. -- A List of Men I Wish Tiger Beat Would Make Pin-Ups For, But Obviously Won't Because They're Not Conventionally Dreamy.

Again, note the trend of older men. Not one under the age of 40! When did I start finding salt-and-pepper hair sexy? Hmmm.....

4.



Name: Jeff Garlin
Age: 47
Occupation: Actor

Yes, that Jeff Garlin. The one continually being abused by Susie Essman on Curb Your Enthusiasm as the "fat fuck." I know, I know! You're thinking, "Dude, what the fuck? Seriously?" but hear me out. Garlin has a great voice (loved him in Wall-E), he's funny, he seems quite sweet and at the end of the day, all he wants is someone to eat cheese with. I could totally be that someone.

3.



Name: Dana Gould
Age: 45
Occupation: Writer/Comedian

The first time I really noticed Dana Gould was on an episode of Real Time With Bill Maher. The conversation between Dan and I went something like this:

Jaime: Wait, that's Dana Gould?
Dan: Yeah.
Jaime: The writer from The Simpsons? That Dana Gould?
Dan: Yeah.
Jaime: Wow....He's kinda hot.
Dan: Wait, what?

And he is. He's good-looking, funny and smart (Simpsons writers are usually eggheads and Gould's got a quick political wit, which is totally sexy) -- hitting the trifecta of traits I look for in a crush.


2.



Name: Bill Simmons
Age: 40
Occupation: Writer/Columnist for ESPN

Simmons, also known as Sports Guy, is a Pats fan. This puts him just above serial killers who wear clown make-up. BUT, Bill's the exception to the rule. The man can write. And the man can spout pop culture trivia. And the man invented both the Unintentional Comedy and Vengeance Scales. And the man's starting to go a little gray which, let's be honest, looks really, really good on him.


1.



Name: Bradley Whitford
Age: 50
Occupation: Actor

So, it wasn't so much Bradley Whitford as it was Danny Tripp from Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. The guy was smart, passionate, slightly tragic and witty. Oh and the way he wore his glasses atop his head? Remarkably sexy. I have no doubt that West-Wing-A-Thon 2009 (my sister and I are planning on spending Christmas doing nothing but eating and watching The West Wing) and Whitford's portrayal as Josh Lyman will do nothing but further my crush.


So, that's the list. Who's on yours?

Grace in Small Things - 10/365

1. Creative writing. The piece I'm writing is silly, peppered with profanity and will probably never see the light of day. But it's mine and I love it.

2. Skype. Not only does it allow me to actually see my parents when I speak to them, but it also enables me to stay in touch with my best friend in London. We had an hour-long discussion the other night that touched on politics, weddings, the hypersexualization of children, racism and how cute our respective significant others are. It was fantastic and I can't wait to do it again.

3. The prospect of getting together with my best friends in December and drinking gin gimlets.

4. The prospect of getting together with my sister in December and just hanging out.

5. Library book sales! They happen twice a year and because I'm a nerd of epic proportions, I look forward to them a little more than I look forward to both my birthday and Christmas. Dan and I picked up 43 books for $25. So cool.

6. Roasted carrots and rutabaga. This has become my favorite new dinnertime side. Chop up the veggies, toss with a little olive oil, salt and pepper and bake for 30 minutes at 350. I'm amazed by how something this delicious could be so easy.

7. Gap Individuals: The Artist. It smells clean yet woodsy and it's long-lasting. I love catching random whiffs of it throughout the day. It makes me smile.

8. Wawa coffee runs on cold weekend mornings. Yes, my toes freeze into little caramel icicles and the sensation of freezing rain running down my neck is horrible, but the first sip of vanilla coffee makes it all worthwhile.

Still at the end of every hard earned day people find some reason to believe

I'm not a religious person. My mom tried to raise a good little Hindu and for a while there, she did a pretty admirable job (still a vegetarian -- good job, Mom!). But then, I grew up and realized that matted hair can turn into a river just as easily as a guy can build a boat big enough for two of every species. I.E. - Not at all (Sorry, Mom).

I don't believe in one specific deity and honestly, think the whole 'one path to salvation' thing is a load of bollocks. Primarily because no-one knows for sure. Yes, there are books and scripture and angry men yelling on television but no-one has come back from the dead with irrefutable proof screaming, "No! No! Stop it! Tear down the churches, temples and mosques! We're all supposed to worship Xenu!"

A lack of belief in organized religion doesn't preclude me from having faith. I believe. Fervently. I believe in the concept of a soul. I believe that there is inherent good in almost everyone (yes, that includes utter shitbags like Glenn Beck and Michelle Malkin) and I believe in the power of music.

That last one especially.

Vonnegut, like he did with so many other things, hit the nail on the head when he said he wanted his epitaph to read: "The only proof he needed for the existence of God was music."

For the most part, scripture leaves me cold. Yes, some of it features pretty language as well as sage advice, but it doesn't really affect me. Not in any real way. Ditto religious ceremonies. They don't feel like I'm communing with the divine as much as it feels like I'm mechanically going through the motions and paying lip service.

But music? Live music, especially? Well, that's a different story. The rumble of a bassline as it snakes through the floor and into your body, the pounding volley of drums and the howl, moan, whisper, shriek and scream of the almighty electric guitar? It's the closest I've ever come to feeling even the remotest spark of the divine.

I saw Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band play the Philadelphia Spectrum last week. I've always liked Springsteen. He's a fantastic storyteller, a damn fine guitarist and one of the last few honorable men left standing in rock music.

I expected a great concert. Especially since the Spectrum (the first major venue Springsteen ever played) was being demolished before year's end.

What I didn't expect was to have this faith completely renewed and reinforced in one night.

I've seen countless musicians but none who perform with the unadulterated joy that Springsteen and E Street Band does.

I have yet to see any musician who seems to need the audience as much as Bruce. Not only does he thrive on performing, but it seems to sustain him. Performing seems to keep his heart pumping.

Being in the Spectrum that night amidst a sea of people -- all of whom were swaying, singing along and completely lost in the moment -- made me feel like I was part of something bigger and better than myself. Something brimming, if not damn near spilling over, with hope and the promise of a brighter tomorrow.

I'm not saying Springsteen is God. That honor is obviously reserved for Clapton, but what I am saying is that last week, I saw Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band in concert. And afterwards, I felt good. Filled with hope and goodwill towards my fellow man. A little more connected than I had been a mere three hours before.

I may never believe in scripture, learn a prayer by heart and actively participate in any sort of religious ceremony. But I believe in Bruce Springsteen and the potency of music...and for me, that's more than enough.

It's time for a throwback

Me and Mom, circa 1984.

Mom looks exactly the same. I do not.

Grace In Small Things - 9/365

1. 'Ask Hadley' in the Guardian's style section.

2. Hot, buttered bagels. Never really been much of a schmear kinda girl (cue the death threats from New Yorkers), but there's something really comforting and delicious about a perfectly toasted bagel with butter.

3. Cardigans. I need to own more. They're both pretty and cozy.

4. The fact that dogs get treats at the Chik-Fil-A drive thru. Last time I was there, I saw a chocolate lab leaning out of the window to get a dog biscuit while his owner picked up some human food (sidebar: waffle fries with ranch dressing and a big lemonade is truly a perfect combination). It was adorable and I strongly urge all dog owners to hit up their local Chik-Fil-A to grab some tasty treats for themselves and their pooches!

5. The fact that I've started writing again. It's this silly little fiction piece I've been batting around in my head for a while. Hardly The Great Gatsby or The Life of Pi, but fun. One of the things I love most about this is how excited I am. I'm really interested in seeing how things turn out for these characters....and then, I realize I'm the only pulling the strings. I haven't felt like this in a while.

I'm saving my sick-days till when I'm feeling better.

I've been sick for the past couple of days (just a cold and not the hye-nye...I hope) and as a result, I've been a bit of a grouchy bastard.

Bound to happen, really. I mean, my throat feel like someone vigorously attacked it with a cheese grater, my head feel like an orange on a toothpick and I have about as much energy as an extra from Dawn of the Dead. You'd be a grouchy bastard too.

So, to make up for all that bad mojo, here is a list of unrelated things that make me feel like less of a grouchy bastard and more like my cheerful, sunny self:

- The phrase 'Grouchy bastard.'
- Dan going on Wawa runs for me and coming home with hot chocolate and soft pretzels. I love that man.
- Soft pretzels from the Philly Pretzel Factory. They're even better when they're slightly burned. Mmmm....
- Hoodies, jeans and flip-flops and weather that facilitates the wearing of the aforementioned (mid 60s and sunny).
- The way sunlight sparkles through leaves.
- Realizing there is an applicable Simpsons quote for pretty much every situation.
- Any conversation with my sister.
- Finding really old mix CDs in your car -- I still love-love-love Something Corporate.
- French fries from Five Guys. Perfectly salted, crunchy and best of all, they actually taste like potatoes.
- The Guardian's Word of Mouth blog.
- The smell of cedar smoke.
- Clean-smelling cologne. We had some suits in the office a few weeks ago and while none of them were particularly attractive, they smelled amazing and actually had me swooning for a second. Chalk it up to the power of Hugo Boss.
- Boston Terriers. Especially cuddly ones with overbites



- Adam Carolla.
- The return of Fringe. I'm so glad that Joshua Jackson is back on television again.
- The B.S. Report with Bill Simmons.
- American Eagle T-Shirts. So comfy.
- Making faces with my nieces. Theirs are always so much cuter than mine.
- Balsamic vinegar drizzled on pizza.
- Listening to Norah Jones on a rainy afternoon.
- Smokey Robinson's cover of Don't Know Why.
- Forehead kisses.
- Gin cocktails.
- Charles Bukowski's poetry.
- My tumblr. It's a virtual inspiration board and I kinda love/need that.
- Andrea of Caffeinate Me. She inspired this post, she's one of my favorite bloggers and the girl has kickass taste in pretty much everything ever.

Oh ok. Down came the rain and washed the spider... oh bollocks.

Welcome to Running Commentary Friday! I think this might become a blog staple.

Let me set the stage for you -- I'm sleepy, undercaffeinated, cold and rain-soaked. Oh yeah. It's going to be a good day.

7:36: I would like to know which half-wit planned the corporate center I work in. Running through a streaming river in the pouring rain, sodding my jeans and freezing my toes is not a good way to start a Friday morning.
7:57: I love technology. Dana and I watched The Vampire Diaries "together" last night despite living 1000 miles apart. As for the show, it was a pretty solid pilot -- funny, smart, filled with pretty people and just enough teenage angst to keep things interesting. As Dana put it last night, "I want a Stefan and Damon sandwich....with Dana in the middle!" See, this is why she's one of my best friends. Well, that coupled with the fact that she's got great taste in music, always down to eat good food and makes me cackle when I laugh. Good times.
8:22: Now that England has officially qualified for the World Cup, I need to start making plans. #1 - I need to make it down to Florida to watch games with my sister and my boys (Biffle, McGillis -- I'm looking in your direction) and #2 - I need to stock up on red and white facepaint.
8:38: Speaking of red, I'm trying to determine what I'm allergic to. I have a very angry-looking, itchy red splotch on the left side of my neck. Perfume? Lotion? Either way, it's not cute.
8:57: Police officer just walked in. Mmmm....hope everything's OK. The last thing we need is a mandatory evac.
9:25: No, not again. I... why does it say paper jam when there is no paper jam? I swear to God, one of these days, I just kick this piece of shit out the window.
9:26: Samir is my homeboy.
9:30: Annnndddd, there's a tornado watch in effect. Awesome.
10:02: Flash flood watch until 4:00? Even better.
10:14: Mmmm....soft pretzel. I love Philly.
10:46: Yay for co-workers having babies! Congratulations, Shawn! I can't wait to see pictures of your baby boy!
12:46: Mmmm....Mediterranean orzo pasta salad.
1:07: Note to self -- do not watch The Glenn Beck Show tonight. Don't even pause on it when you're channel-surfing because the hypocrisy will cause you to stroke out. I seriously do not have a middle finger big enough for this d-bag.
1:23: As a general rule, camgirls are morons when it comes to politics. And sometimes, they're hypocrites too! Fun times!
1:47: Itchy....itchy....itchy......
1:51: Dude, the 2009 Graduation Mickey Ears aren't available? Damn it. I was going to get my sister a pair in anticipation for our Disney Graduation Extravaganza.
1:52: Any Disney rides I must hit? We've never been (and I lived in Orlando for four years, can you believe that?) and I'd appreciate the recommendations.
3:09: Who is making popcorn? It smells like a movie theater and I'm salivating like one of Pavlov's pooches. Although, you know what? Not really a fan of movie theater popcorn anymore. It tastes different now than it did when I was a kid. Less delicious, more styrofoam peanutty. And Golden Topping? What the effery is that? Firstly, golden is not a flavor and what the hell is it? It's some sort of dubious liquid that may as well be motor oil and people drench their food with it. Blech. They should sell kettle corn in movie theaters. That would be awesome.
3:40: I'm delivering board books. Here's to hoping my craptastic sense of direction fails me spectacularly.
4:17: Eff you in the eye, Mapquest. Why are so you insistent on giving me the longest, most inefficient route possible?
4:38: Jamison Parker's cover of Everybody Wants To Rule The World rules!
4:47: Dude, how am I lost on a driveway? Jesus, where is this house anyway?
4:49: Holy mother of God...she lives in a museum.
4:58: I. Hate. Unpaved. Roads.
5:10: Sweatpants and a t-shirt from 1998 = Awesome.