I Love Sitting in a Bar

I know that sounds bad. But I do. I love all the chatter, and energy, and good lookin' people, and laughter. I love the young and generally adorable servers. I love how they will bring me anything I want within reason.

I had the best day yesterday.

In the morning I scrubbed and vacuumed our camper, The Burn Unit (we lit on fire a couple of years ago), to get ready for a trip Pup and I are taking around the world. Well, maybe not exactly around the world, but around a few places.

It was, from what the weather-boys were saying, maybe the last warmish day for a while and the dew points were sky-high. I let my hair air dry all morning which always makes for an interesting hair day. Boooya! That camper looks nice though. It really suffered from last years trip down that long winding trail into the woods with the kids. Sadly, we can never bring it down there again. Can you see my sad face?

So . . . chores finished I headed out in The Captain (our Honda Pilot) to pick up my Shelley-Belly where we relaxed with mani/pedi's and then went for cocktails outside at one of my favorite places.

Sitting outside at a bar here in Minnesota can be a couple of things. It can be too windy, the sun can be glaring in your eyes, it can be so f-ing hot you sweat into your fish tacos, or the venue is on an exhaust-blowing avenue. Bitch much?

Yesterday was not like that. Perfect. Gentle breeze, overcast just the perfect amount, even with the dew points the temp a perfect setting. Good food, my beloved Makers Mark, and good conversation punctuated with loud (from my end) peals of laughter.

I didn't want to leave. Why can't I just spend my life sitting in an elegant bar, sipping my bourbon, laughing and talking?

Hmm?

I kid! But yesterday did remind me of an outing I took many years ago with the Wasband and another couple.

We had gone to a wonderful Minneapolis landmark, Nye's Polonaise Room, for the start of our day together. I had ordered a rum and diet, which was my drink at that time, had taken my first sip, and hollered out, "Hey! Did you put ANY diet coke in here?"

The barkeep immediately hollered back, "If that's what you want, get your ass to Applebee's!"

We all fell out laughing and laughing. I sipped my wonderful cocktail with my tail between my legs, fully chastised.

Drink on my hooches!

Hot Men Friday

Justin Theroux

I really enjoy GQ magazine. I read it at my salon. I keep thinking that I need to get a subscription for Pup.

Guys this like this one are part of the reason for my love of the magazine.

Like this guy.

I dated one guy in my lifetime that had this vibe. This hipster, I-can-wear-anything-and-look-cool vibe. I swoon a little when I see a guy like this on the street.

But this guy, this guy . . . hair, fierce face, ripped, nice, sweet, smart (seemingly), and talented.

And he dates my biggest girl-crush of all time.

I love Jennifer Aniston. She's a perfect girl to me. Lovely, strong body, great hair, and walks along in her own comfort. Doesn't bend to swollen lips, exaggerated hair extensions, or only dressing the right way. She wears what she wants. I admire that.

But this guy . . .

Yeah, this guy . . .

He is the right amount of hairy and while he may be a little scrawny for my normal taste, his NYC thing works. Those guys have to be scrawny. The long thin legs in jeans, the lean arms that are like rocks, the abs you could do a rubbing on.

He's the reason I wanted to start watching The Leftovers. Now I'm watching because the show is good. Are any of you watching?