Well, it’s official. I’ve, without a doubt, pulled out the very last stop. Is it because I looked at the before picture of me that shows what I look like from behind and was stricken temporarily blind? Possibly. Is it because waiting for the blood sugar results has caused me to go insane? Likely. Whatever the reason, I’ve now gone too far.
Today I came home and was catching up on Tivo. I was watching Oprah. She’s sneaky that Oprah. There I was, cozied up on the couch with my laptop basking in my laziness, when she did it to me again. She had on Matthew. For those asking “Matthew who?” TISK TISK!! It was brief (unfortunately) and he was sporting the scruffy look, but I didn’t even care. He is about 20 kinds of yummy. I just wanna put him in my pocket and go about my day.
Now, I’ve never been particularly star struck per say. I’ve never plastered my walls with every picture published of someone. I’ve never written a stalker like letter professing my undying love or even put forth the effort to know every sorted detail of their over publicized life. I am; however, a fan of Matthew McConaughey. I can’t help it. From his dimples to his southern drawl, I’m plotzing. I’m not even Jewish and I’m plotzing. I can’t even sit here and say I just want him for his chiseled good looks. Look at everything he’s doing for the Hurricane Katrina effort. Quite the giver that Matthew is.
So what did I do that has me so dumbfounded? Why am I confessing my momentary lapse in judgment? Because I need more help than a team of the world’s finest therapists can provide. This week’s events (more than I even wrote about) and another glimpse of Mr. McConaughey paired with my wireless internet caused something to come over me. I went to Oprah.com and, dare I say it…I emailed Oprah (or her producers rather). No really, I did. Stop it! I did!
I, essentially, suggested that they should track my attempt to lose 200 pounds, linked them to this website so they could get a glimpse at my personality and what would be in store for them if they did and then asked them to dangle a carrot in front of me. What’s the carrot you ask? More like WHO is the carrot. Matthew is my carrot (if only carrots looked like that…what a healthier bunch we’d be). She’s in the habit of reporting weight loss success stories and in the habit of introducing fans to celebs. I told them I wanted to meet him, but only if I lost the weight. That there is nothing particularly spectacular about me that warrants such a meeting, but if I lost 200 pounds I think that officially has me earning a day with Matthew.
Do I expect to get a call from a producer of the Oprah show? No. Am I hopeful? Natch! I mean come on. If they shot me an email stating that they’ve read my website, find me intriguing, and would like to offer me a chance to meet Matthew McConaughey I do believe the pounds I’d be a sheddin’. Is it tragic that it might take a carrot of that size to get me serious about this? Obviously. At least I’m honest. I did workout after I sent that email though. It’s a start.
Today I came home and was catching up on Tivo. I was watching Oprah. She’s sneaky that Oprah. There I was, cozied up on the couch with my laptop basking in my laziness, when she did it to me again. She had on Matthew. For those asking “Matthew who?” TISK TISK!! It was brief (unfortunately) and he was sporting the scruffy look, but I didn’t even care. He is about 20 kinds of yummy. I just wanna put him in my pocket and go about my day.
Now, I’ve never been particularly star struck per say. I’ve never plastered my walls with every picture published of someone. I’ve never written a stalker like letter professing my undying love or even put forth the effort to know every sorted detail of their over publicized life. I am; however, a fan of Matthew McConaughey. I can’t help it. From his dimples to his southern drawl, I’m plotzing. I’m not even Jewish and I’m plotzing. I can’t even sit here and say I just want him for his chiseled good looks. Look at everything he’s doing for the Hurricane Katrina effort. Quite the giver that Matthew is.
So what did I do that has me so dumbfounded? Why am I confessing my momentary lapse in judgment? Because I need more help than a team of the world’s finest therapists can provide. This week’s events (more than I even wrote about) and another glimpse of Mr. McConaughey paired with my wireless internet caused something to come over me. I went to Oprah.com and, dare I say it…I emailed Oprah (or her producers rather). No really, I did. Stop it! I did!
I, essentially, suggested that they should track my attempt to lose 200 pounds, linked them to this website so they could get a glimpse at my personality and what would be in store for them if they did and then asked them to dangle a carrot in front of me. What’s the carrot you ask? More like WHO is the carrot. Matthew is my carrot (if only carrots looked like that…what a healthier bunch we’d be). She’s in the habit of reporting weight loss success stories and in the habit of introducing fans to celebs. I told them I wanted to meet him, but only if I lost the weight. That there is nothing particularly spectacular about me that warrants such a meeting, but if I lost 200 pounds I think that officially has me earning a day with Matthew.
Do I expect to get a call from a producer of the Oprah show? No. Am I hopeful? Natch! I mean come on. If they shot me an email stating that they’ve read my website, find me intriguing, and would like to offer me a chance to meet Matthew McConaughey I do believe the pounds I’d be a sheddin’. Is it tragic that it might take a carrot of that size to get me serious about this? Obviously. At least I’m honest. I did workout after I sent that email though. It’s a start.
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