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SBD: If my life was a romance novel
Feb. 5th, 2007 09:54 pmMy belated SBD contribution:
If my life was a romance novel, today, as I hurried to catch the train station in the frickin' 12F winter misery, I would've fallen on the tracks as the train approached. Unable to stop, it would've looked like curtains for me. But then, suddenly, out of the blue (cold blue), a tall, dark and handsome fellow would rescue me. He would, of course, be smitten immediately by my amazing ordinariness -- such a contrast to the supermodels he normally dates. He would've immediately swept me off to his Aegean/Mediterranean/Caribbean island, where we would be basting ourselves in the sun at this very moment.
If only.
Instead I trudged to work and then home, with a schmooze, mix and mingle thing at the end. Mandatory attendance. The wine was pretty good, but probably shouldn't've been drunk on an empty stomach. You readers have no idea how many typos I'm committing. Spell check is my friend.
Anyhoo, you know who would be my hero in real life? A mechanic. 'Cause guys who fix things are sexy. Especially guys who jump start cars that don't want to start because it is frickin' 12F degrees out. Like my car this evening.
So, anybody got any book recommendations for romances with blue collar heroes? Carpenters, plumbers, electricians, mechanics. Love them all. It's the tool belt, I think. Or something.
ps Who the hell is the actress cast as Willa Mercy in the Montana Sky movie? She can't act her way out of a paper bag. But John Corbett with the short hair and a cowboy hat and Wranglers? As one of my college roommates would say, hotter than a freshly fucked fox in a forest fire.
pps Um, you may have noticed that my language becomes slightly more profane when I'm feeling buzzed. Which had faded, but which I refreshed with a couple more glasses of wine (it was antifreeze! I needed to defrost!) when I got home. A hot toddy would've been better, but there was no rum. Who drank it all? Bitch, whoever it was. Oh, right, that was me. Never mind. Move along, nothing to see here.
ppps :snicker: I just realized that "drunk" is a possible mood icon, with a little green puking smiley. Love it. Except I'm pretty sure I'll be avoiding that part.
'Night, all.
If my life was a romance novel, today, as I hurried to catch the train station in the frickin' 12F winter misery, I would've fallen on the tracks as the train approached. Unable to stop, it would've looked like curtains for me. But then, suddenly, out of the blue (cold blue), a tall, dark and handsome fellow would rescue me. He would, of course, be smitten immediately by my amazing ordinariness -- such a contrast to the supermodels he normally dates. He would've immediately swept me off to his Aegean/Mediterranean/Caribbean island, where we would be basting ourselves in the sun at this very moment.
If only.
Instead I trudged to work and then home, with a schmooze, mix and mingle thing at the end. Mandatory attendance. The wine was pretty good, but probably shouldn't've been drunk on an empty stomach. You readers have no idea how many typos I'm committing. Spell check is my friend.
Anyhoo, you know who would be my hero in real life? A mechanic. 'Cause guys who fix things are sexy. Especially guys who jump start cars that don't want to start because it is frickin' 12F degrees out. Like my car this evening.
So, anybody got any book recommendations for romances with blue collar heroes? Carpenters, plumbers, electricians, mechanics. Love them all. It's the tool belt, I think. Or something.
ps Who the hell is the actress cast as Willa Mercy in the Montana Sky movie? She can't act her way out of a paper bag. But John Corbett with the short hair and a cowboy hat and Wranglers? As one of my college roommates would say, hotter than a freshly fucked fox in a forest fire.
pps Um, you may have noticed that my language becomes slightly more profane when I'm feeling buzzed. Which had faded, but which I refreshed with a couple more glasses of wine (it was antifreeze! I needed to defrost!) when I got home. A hot toddy would've been better, but there was no rum. Who drank it all? Bitch, whoever it was. Oh, right, that was me. Never mind. Move along, nothing to see here.
ppps :snicker: I just realized that "drunk" is a possible mood icon, with a little green puking smiley. Love it. Except I'm pretty sure I'll be avoiding that part.
'Night, all.
