I got an email from my faithful friend Jeanette saying that she was going to vote for me 36 times today. But only if I posted. Because I guess if I'm in the running for Funniest Blog, I should...um...blog. Well, and maybe be funny. You people are so demanding.
But also super awesome. Seriously, you kids have some kind of magical powers because I'm now in 3rd. Which is hilarious to me. Third place has always struck me as being really funny. I once got 2nd place in a spelling bee and I've always been a little disappointed that it wasn't 3rd. Because 3rd you can laugh at. 2nd just means you were 1st place loser.
Another thing that is funny in a 3rd place kind of way is a grown woman belong to a celebrity fan club. Katie and I were watching a concert honoring Paul Simon (the same one which, a few years ago, instigated an open-letter to Jennifer Lopez, pleading with her to feed Marc Anthony a sandwich) and she happened to mention that when she was at the taping of Dancing with the Stars she was standing next to a woman in line who belonged to the Marc Anthony Personal Fan Club. The benefits of this being that she gets to go out for meals with him when he's in town. (I also hope she gets some of those giant buttons that were so popular in the 80s - I'm thinking New Kids on the Block here - because if I ever see a woman with a Marc Anthony giant button on her acid wash denim jacket I would DIE. Die, I tell you! And then I would come back to life just so I could blog about it.) This all came out because another woman in line mentioned how she did not really appreciate Jennifer Lopez's performance on a previous season of the show and Marc Anthony's Number One Fan chimed in with, "Well, I happen to know her personally and she's a wonderful person and we go out to dinner every time they're in town and I was one of the very first people to know that she was pregnant so there." Katie did not go into much more detail but I like to imagine at this point she put her hands on her hips and glared at the woman and then slowly turned around without taking her eyes off her until the very last second, when she whipped her head around and huffed with disdain and superiority, all the while plotting how she would find her car and spell out "You suck!" on her back window with rotten banana peels.
I love her. I want to bottle her up and carry her around with me so I would always have something laugh about.