Way to go, Zuckerberg.

Like the rest of the world, I am obsessed with Facebook. Although my love affair with the social networking site has declined in recent years (mostly due to my interest in Twitter and my blog), I still check it multiple times a day.

Over the years, I have come to realize that there are different types of status updaters on Facebook. Here they are:

The 'Too Much Information' Poster - This friend tells the world extremely personal details about their life. Ex. "Feel like killing everyone because it's that time of the month." or "My mom is really pissing me off. She just called me a bitch in front of my friends!"

The Cryptic - This friend wants you to ask them what's going on with them, so they leave a series of vague statuses to make you curious. Often, they end statuses with ellipses. Ex. "Why is this happening to me?" or "I have never felt this way before..."

The Revoltingly in Love Updater - This friend cannot write a status without including something gooey about their significant other. Ex. "Counting down the minutes until I get to see my baby girl." or "The best 2 week, 4 days, and 11 hours of my life. Love my boy!"

The Shameless Self-Promoter - This friend uses their Facebook as a way to gain personal attention or raise awareness for something they care about. Ex. "Check out my blog." or "Attend my event!" Clearly, I'm guilty of this one.

The Anchorman - This friend uses their Facebook status to inform the world of news that they might not know otherwise. Of course, everyone usually knows what they post already. Ex. "The Packers win!!" or "I can't believe there is a cobra missing from the Bronx zoo!"

The Incessant Updater - This friend updates their status every thirty minutes. Ex. "Watching Ocean's 13." followed by "Brad Pitt and George Clooney are so hot." followed by "I can't believe the end of this movie." followed by "Highly recommend Ocean's 13 to everyone."

The Cynic - This friend uses their status as a soapbox to complain about everything. Ex. "People that talk shit behind my back really piss me off." or "Why can't people get their own life and stay out of mine?"

The Sympathy Seeker - This friend is desperately looking for comfort and uses Facebook induce pity from others. Ex. "Worst day ever." or "Huge test tomorrow. Gonna be an all-nighter." Again, guilty.

The Meteorologist - This friend forgets that nearly everyone else on their friend list is experiencing the same weather they are. Ex. "It's so warm! Is this actually March?!" or "IT'S SNOWING!!!"

The Braggart - This friend wants others to envy them, so they post positive details about their own life in an attempt to make others jealous. Ex. "Last night was CRAZY!"

The Novelist - This friend writes a full paragraph for every status update. Unfortunately, they are usually pointless or boring paragraphs. Ex. "Today, I went to the grocery store to pick up some dinner. I really wanted spaghetti, but I realized that no Italian dinner is complete without garlic bread. I went over to the bakery for some fresh garlic bread, but the workers told me they were completely out! So, I went with tacos instead."

There you have it. We are all guilty of these from time to time, but these are the over-arching trends in Facebook status updates that I've noticed over the years.

...and trust me, I've spent my fair share of time on Facebook.

Childhood nostalgia.

I really miss being a kid.

Let me be clear. For all intensive purposes, I'm still a kid. I live at home. My parents feed me. I'm still unemployed (ugh). I have friends my age that live on their own, have careers, are married, and have kids. So, in the grand scheme of things, I'm still a kid.

BUT, I miss the simplicity of childhood. I miss not worrying about my appearance, my health, finding a job, finding a significant other, maintaining friendships, and what happens next. Life used to be so simple...and it was awesome.

I remember playing in the backyard with my brother and sister. We pretended we were British explorers. We would speak to each other in horrible accents, wade around in our creek, then pretend we were climbing a dangerous mountain when, in reality, we were walking up our hill. We would approach my mom as if she were a stranger. We'd say, "Oh, hello there, mate. We've been lost all day and just came across your inn. May we stay the night and have a nice supper?" She would play along. "Oh, yes. Of course. In fact, I have three kids about your age, but they are out of town. You could even borrow some of their clothes for the night."

I remember peeling dried glue off my fingers. I remember hand claps and Goosebumps books. I remember choreographing intricate dances with my siblings and friends, then selling my parents tickets for the performances. I remember pogs, slap bracelets, and the Pokemon craze. I remember recording my favorite songs on cassette tapes and begging my mom to buy me the new Spice Girls singles. I remember wanting to marry Billy the Blue Power Ranger because he was understated (unlike attention whore Tommy), wore glasses, served as the brains of the operation, and clearly had an emotional side. I remember playing Mario Brothers, Duck Hunt, and Mario Kart 64 for hours.

I remember going to the skating rink, although I couldn't skate, because it was the cool thing to do. I remember being jealous during the couples' skates and hanging out primarily in the food court/arcade area. I remember my absurd crush on Josh Server from the original cast of All That. I remember playing MASH and keeping everything in trendy trapper keepers. I remember obsessing over Beanie Babies, naming my real turtles after the Ninja Turtles, and being terrified of Furbies. I remember the Macarena, Doug and Patty, and Mike O'Malley's stint on Guts. I remember fluoride rinses at school, Heads Up 7-Up, exciting trips to the Dollar Store, and every awesome Disney movie. I remember Saved by the Bell and 'the Blue Barracudas win the half pendant of life!'

I remember every line in both Ace Ventura movies and all the words to "Happy Happy Joy Joy." I lived by Total Request Live, worshipped Carson Daly, and screamed like a maniacal teenybopper at every mention of the Backstreet Boys. I read The Boxcar Children and The Baby-Sitters Club. I ran through sprinklers, slip 'n slid(?), and ate ice cream every single day. I bought Tiger Beat magazine and covered my room in posters. I rocked the Easy Bake Oven, Skip It, Bop It, and Nano Pet craze. I'm still annoyed by Ferguson Darling, Steve Urkel, and Danny Tanner. I cut the goo out of Stretch Armstrong, secretly ate Play-Doh, and stayed up late to watch Tales from the Crypt.

I remember when this was the hottest thing I had ever seen:



Oh, that's right. It still is.

Basically, I miss being naive, carefree, and constantly happy. That was the life. Adults could do no wrong, alcohol and drugs weren't a factor, I wasn't concerned about what others thought of me, and I wasn't aware of the ugliness of the world. Sometimes when I'm worried about my brother in boot camp or stressing over my future occupation and relationship status, I wish I could go back to the days when my biggest issue was the Backstreet Boys being #2 on TRL.

Back your shit up, N'Sync.

Man Meat Monday #11

I missed Man Meat Monday last week. I still feel guilty about it.

While driving home from Pittsburgh, Jenn came up with the brilliant idea to create a bracket-style tournament with guys, not basketball teams. I have tried for years and cannot seem to get interested in March Madness. This, however, is certainly something I can do.

So, my beloved readers, I bring you the First Annual March Manness Tournament.

Let me explain. I choose 64 celebrities that I find attractive. Then, I seeded them (1-16) based on looks alone. I placed them on the bracket at random (no divisions). Then, I filled out my bracket asking myself the following question: Who would you most like to see next to you when you wake up? This, of course, takes into consideration personality and sexual history.

Some of the match-ups were very tough for me to decide. Still, here is my bracket. I cut it in two so that it would fit on my blog.

My winner? Jason Segel. Clearly, the bracket must have worked out pretty well.

So, readers: It's your turn. Who would win your bracket?

Penguins Practice Stalkfest

As you already know, I'm pretty obsessed with the Pittsburgh Penguins. So, when I found out a few months ago that they hold free and open practices to the public, I knew I was going to at least one this season. No question about it.

Their practice facility, the Iceoplex at Southpointe, is only 3-½ hours away. Jenn, being the loving and self-sacrificing best friend she is, agreed to travel there with me for Saturday's practice...although I'm sure she would have preferred a trip to the dentist.

Friday, we left around 8:00 PM for the drive to Washington, PA. We stayed at the Days Inn and I must say - DO NOT stay there. Aside from the burn holes in the comforter and the wallpaper falling off the walls, there were a few other problems. First, none of the ice machines worked. There was a huge cockroach smashed and stuck in the curtain and left there for us to see. The channel buttons on the remote control didn't work, so you had to type in the individual numbers to change the channel.

My personal favorite? There was some leftover popcorn in our ice bucket that the maid had forgotten to clean out.

Needless to say, we rushed out of there in the morning (after our continental breakfast, of course). Since I'm a coward, Jenn confronted the lady at the reception desk. Apparently, she didn't seem very surprised by any of this. Shocker.

We got to the Iceoplex around 9:45. There were about 10 people waiting in line near the rear entrance, holding Sidney Crosby jerseys and pictures. Of course, my hopes got up and we stood there for a freezing hour with my jersey and permanent marker in hand. Sidenote: There is no one to blame but myself for wearing flip-flops in 22º weather.

The parking lot filled up and people started parking in the grass. With practice starting in five minutes, we decided to give up and head in. Practice had already started, so we found seats and I took a million paparazzi shots. I took more than a few of Jordan Staal.

I tried to find Pants and Chuck, the writers for one of my favorite blogs What's Up, Ya Sieve?, but to no avail. If you want to hear about today's game or see better pictures of the practice, you should probably go to their hilarious and awesome blog.

Practice was awesome. It's fun to see them interact with each other, push each other and play around. I saw Letang try to start a fight with Engelland, Arron Asham army crawl across the ice, and Dan Bylsma spray fans with water.

As the players began to leave the ice, we headed outside to hopefully see some of them. The line near the rear exit was outrageously long. We waited in it, anyway. About 30 minutes later, everyone started to get really excited because goalie Marc-Andre Fleury (Flower) was making his way down the line in his amazing car. I didn't think he'd actually sign for everyone because there were way over 100 people waiting, but he did! I had him sign my Penguins pennant and got a picture with him!

I told him good luck tomorrow...and it must have worked because they won in a shootout today and he was named first star of the game with 37 saves. I'll take partial credit. You're welcome.

After practice, we made our way downtown to walk around the South side of Pittsburgh and eat lunch. Jenn got to have a draft Yuengling and I got to gush over Flower for an hour, so all was right in the world. Reluctantly, we left for our drive back with me desperately scouring the streets for Penguins or tickets to today's game one last time. No such luck.

Despite the creepy hotel room, the trip was great. Maybe I can talk Jenn into doing it again next year? Ha!

American Idol CATASTROPHE

Tonight was almost the biggest American Idol injustice since Chris Daughtry's untimely exit in season 5 (sorry, friends...I wasn't an Adam Lambert fan).

There is absolutely no justification for Casey Abrams not making the top 10.

I know that I'm biased. Casey has touched a deep part of my blues-loving, jazzy soul that hasn't been affected by an American Idol contestant since my beloved Taylor Hicks. The instant I heard his beautiful scat on "I Don't Need No Doctor," I was sold. When he sang "Why Georgia" with an upright bass the following week, I knew he was my favorite. The next week, however, he sang "Why Don't You Do Right?" with his upright bass and I melted to the floor Alex Mack-style. You must watch it.



This was my exact reaction.



In all honesty, that performance is the epitome of sex. Jazzy, classy, bearded sex. In fact, I might be pregnant now. That wonderfully-placed scat literally tore my pants off. His musical talent FAR surpasses almost every other contestant in the history of American Idol. He is all kinds of Ray Charles and Marvin Gaye with a hint of Frank Sinatra. He has more soul than a Southern Baptist preacher and his raspy growling will forever be the cause of my sexual frustration.

So, consider this a call to arms. Vote for Casey. If not for you, then for me. I'm selfish that way. This is proof that America forgets what MUSIC really is. I'm guilty, too. I haven't voted yet, but you better believe I'll be calling a million times next week.

On the upside, if Casey doesn't win Idol, he could tour the country playing in small, intimate club settings. Picture it. Casey. Upright bass. Smoky jazz club. Drummer playing the hi-hat. Someone playing muted trumpet. All three in suits and ties. Dim lighting. Scats all night long. Me. Front and center. Throwing my bra on stage.

Sidenote: If Scotty McCreery wins, I will move to Canada.

Start spreading the news...

So, I'm finally home from glorious New York City. Unfortunately, I missed my very first Man Meat Monday, but I must say - it was well worth it. So, here is the vacation synopsis (more for memory's sake than anything else):

Thursday, Mom, Dad, and I arrived in New York early. We took a cab from LaGuardia downtown. However, the cab driver had to let us out early because of road closures due to the HUGE St. Patrick's Day parade. So, we dragged our luggage through the massive crowds and watched about an hour of the parade before finally crossing 5th Avenue.

After checking into the hotel, Mom and I walked around Rockefeller Plaza, went into the NBC and Lego stores, watched more of the parade in front of St. Patrick's Cathedral, and made fun of the ridiculously drunk high schoolers stumbling around with 'water bottles.'

That night, we went to dinner with our family friends (Massimo, Sidney, Cliff, and Sid) at Basso56, a nice Italian restaurant. I had burrata (delicious mozzarella cheese wrapped in prosciutto) and fettucini alfredo. Yum. After dinner, we walked around Times Square for some people-watching. Times Square is so overwhelming and incredible. It truly does seem like the center of the universe.

Friday, Mom and I picked up some Chipotle and ate it on the stairs in Times Square.

The weather was perfect, so we made our way to Central Park to relax for a bit. We talked, pet dogs, watched people ice skate in inches of water (it was 70º and sunny), and took pictures. Oh yeah - a bird also pooped on my mom's neck. Hilarious.

We explored FAO Schwarz, where we played on the piano from BIG, posed with Lego statues, and saw a $25,000 foosball table made with Barbies. That night, we took the subway to Madison Square Garden and scalped two tickets for the Rangers vs. Canadiens game that night. However, we were quickly told by security that the tickets we spent $140 on were counterfeit tickets. I was livid. We found the scalpers, who had changed clothes already. They were being chewed out by another couple they had scammed. The cops were notified, but they told us they couldn't do anything about it because buying scalped tickets is illegal. I told them that this never happens in Ohio and one of them actually said, "Welcome to New York." Dejected, we made our way back to Rockefeller Plaza, where we watched ice skaters rock out to a DJ and ate dinner. I did, however, find ginger Staal first.

Saturday, we went to Vision Expo, my dad's reason for our trip and the largest optical event in the U.S. Since Mom and I have little to no interest in the optical industry, we waited in line to meet my main dog, Randy Jackson. As the line got shorter and shorter, my mom's heart rate got higher and higher. Apparently, she has a crush on Randy? At any rate, we got a picture taken (which I will post when I get it) and I had a brief conversation with him...since my mom was passing out. It went like this:

Me: Are you allowed to tell me who your favorite is this season?

Randy: No, I'm not, but I do think a guy will win this year. There are a couple of good guys and a couple of good girls. (Very ground-breaking news, I know)

Me (literally grabbing his arm): I am in love with Casey.

Randy: Aww, me too, man! I'm a bassist, so we have that in common.

Suddenly, a security guard was dragging me away, so I quickly thanked him, picked my mom off the floor, and made my way. He was incredibly approachable, very nice, and actually seemed interested to talk to me. Randy = The best American Idol judge...not just because Steven Tyler is high out of his mind and J.Lo pumps rainbows up the contestants' asses.

As we were leaving the convention, we noticed that another celebrity was signing autographs - Chord Overstreet (Sam from Glee)!! I admit - I would have been MUCH happier to see Finn or Puck, but I was excited, nevertheless. He seemed like he hated his life. He wasn't even smiling in pictures and he kept checking his watch. I guess I don't blame him. However, when I got to him, I told him that his James Earl Jones impression was hilarious and he actually laughed and shook his head. Oh, trouty mouth. I'll post that picture when I get it, too.

After Vision Expo, we went to the NHL store where I held a mini-Stanley Cup, took pictures of giant Sidney Crosby posters, bought a Jordan Staal shirt, and climaxed multiple times.

After about 45 minutes, my mom finally persuaded me out of the store with the promise of food. We went to Carmine's, another Italian restaurant, in the theater district. We ate with 15 of my dad's business friends, including an incredibly attractive Italian named Federico who I kept suggestively smiling at...but to no avail. He spoke no English, but honestly, love has no language, right? No wonder I'm single.

After dinner, some of us were led by Massimo and Federico to a tiny bar that was throwing a Mardi Gras-themed party. After paying a $10 cover, we also learned that it was singles' networking party, so that was interesting...considering I was with my mom...and ten other married people over the age of 35. Nevertheless, Ke$ha was playing, so I broke it down to the best of my ability, received beads from men twice my age, and shielded my mom from the desperate men flocking toward her. Still no luck with Federico, but I did get a goodbye kiss on the cheek. Thank you, European tradition.

Sunday, Mom and I went on the NBC Studio Tour in 30 Rock. The guides taught us about the history of NBC and showed us the studios where The Dr. Oz Show and Late Night with Jimmy Fallon are recorded. My personal favorite part? I got to see the Saturday Night Live studio! I'm a huge fan of the show and got so excited when I saw the three stages in person. It was awesome to picture my favorite skits being recorded in there - Will Ferrell, John Belushi, Chris Farley, Andy Samberg, Tina Fey, Amy Poehler, Adam Sandler, Chevy Chase, Dan Akroyd, etc. I will go to a live taping someday.

After the tour, we went to Vision Expo in hopes of meeting Snooki. Unfortunately, the line was too long, but I did snap some pictures of America's favorite guidette for Jenn.

From there, we took a cab to SoHo to check into our next hotel. We ate lunch at a Mexican restaurant before wandering around Greenwich Village for a couple hours. Greenwich Village is an amazing place. It is so upscale, yet maintains its bohemian aura. You can easily imagine Bob Dylan performing songs on the street or Jack Kerouac writing in a cafe. We walked past countless boutiques and waited in a line out the door for the famous Magnolia Bakery. Seriously, if I can't have Mr. Big, an awesome career, or an apartment in the Upper East Side, I will at least have Carrie's red velvet cheesecake cupcakes.

That night, mom and I went to the Comedy Cellar, a hilarious, cozy comedy club. We didn't have reservations, but luckily, we got tickets on stand-by. All of the comedians were hilarious. I can't remember all of their names, but I do remember Colin Quinn (SNL), Kyle Grooms, Neal Brennan (co-creater of Chappelle's Show), and Keith Robinson (The Wanda Sykes Show). It was hilarious and I HIGHLY recommend going to the Comedy Cellar if you are ever in Greenwich Village.

Monday, it was cold and raining, so our plans were changed a bit. We walked to Little Italy for lunch (I had mushroom pizza - Italian overload). Then, we walked around Chinatown, but we quickly got tired of the rain and decided to head to the airport early. Ugh. During our layover in Philadelphia, I ate my first REAL Philly Cheesesteak (and crab fries) at Chickie's and Pete's while watching the Penguins play the Redwings on TV. Perfection.

...and now, I'm home. Back in southwestern Ohio. No, I'm not complaining. It's just a fact. New York City is so much cooler than Cincinnati.

...even if NY scalpers crush your dreams and rip you off.

Brittany After Lockout

Those who know me well know that the #1 love of my life is football. I've been avoiding the topic of the NFL lockout because...well, it depresses me. The thought of not having a football season next year blows my mind. Friday, when I learned that the owners and the NFLPA couldn't come to an agreement, I wasn't happy. In fact, I felt a little numb.

So, without any further ado, I bring you:

Brittany After Lockout

Notice the shirt. I'm pathetic...and have too much time on my hands, obviously.

Gleegasm.

I'll admit it. I was nervous coming into tonight's episode, but I must say - it was a complete gleegasm. I was absolutely thrilled with how regionals went.

+ KURT AND BLAINE! I don't need to tell you how excited I was when Blaine had his "moment" and finally fell for Kurt. Normally, when two guys kiss, I'm depressed because I'm head-over-heels in love with one of them. This time, my life was complete. Remember the Britney Spears sex riot in episode 2 of this season? This kiss practically started a Johnson household sex riot. Thank you, Ryan Murphy. Thank you.

- Quinn. Remember when she referred to herself as "relatively sane?" Shortly thereafter, she went off on Rachel for no good reason. Oh, nevermind. It was because she wants to be Prom Queen. I stand corrected.

+ Original songs. I was dreading original songs (I watch the show for the cheesy re-makes), but I was pleasantly surprised by how good they were. "Trouty Mouth," "Big Ass Heart," and "Hell to the No" all had me laughing. Not too cheesy. Perfect for their characters. The two competition songs were good, too. I loved the slushie/confetti ending. Cute.

+ The Warblers. Can they get their own show please? They are amazing. Maroon 5 and the Beatles ("Blackbird" was beautiful) in the same episode? Yes, please.

- There is NEVER any audience participation at real choir competitions. Trust me. No one holds up props, stands up, dances, or cheers like crazy. The most sound you will hear at a high school choir competition is a muffled snore or a baby crying. That's the ugly truth.

+ Sue was actually funny! At long last. Throwing sticks at Mercedes? Having a brief affair with the drummer of Jimmy Eat World? World War Sue? This was long overdue. Of course, she won't be facing any prison time for punching the governor's wife. Sue does what she wants, remember?

+ Glimmers of Finnchel hope! AHHH! Finn had a "moment" while Rachel was singing. I cannot wait for their glorious reconciliation. Prediction: They will get back together in the nationals episode.

- I was thrilled that New Directions won, but it was so obvious. The instant we heard that nationals were in New York, we knew New Directions would win regionals. Still, Oral Intensity wasn't even a true competitor with Sue as coach? Unrealistic.

+ Kathy Griffin's cameo as a Tea Party politician (Sarah Palin impression) and judge was out-of-place, but hilarious. I'm too liberal for my own good, so I greatly appreciated this jab. It's okay - the far right wing probably doesn't watch, anyway. Way too many gay characters.

+ The writers didn't just forget the Santana/Brittany issue. Not sure where that will go, but I'm glad it wasn't ignored after last week.

For me, this episode was close to perfect. It reminded me of why I fell in love with the show in the first place. It had limited Schue (and none of Holly), hilarious Sue in small doses, good music, and focused on the kids. Unfortunately, Glee doesn't return until mid-April. So, until then, I'll be at home, watching Blaine and Kurt kiss over and over again on my DVR.

Perspective.

No one's life is perfect. Mine isn't. Yours isn't. Contrary to popular belief, Posh Spice's isn't. As a result, I complain a lot. However, a good portion of my journal is dedicated to realizing and reminding myself how lucky I am.

This is necessary...because if you know me, you know that I'm both self-pitying and overly dramatic. With that dangerous combination, even the smallest inconvenience in my life quickly becomes the scene in Dante's Peak where Grandma Ruth, out of the goodness of her heart, jumps out of the boat into the sulphuric acid lake in order to push the boat to shore and save her family...in turn, losing her legs and her life. Except I'm Grandma Ruth, the acidic lake is life's many challenges, and I'm nowhere near brave enough to do something that cool.

Sometimes, I am convinced that my life is actually an elaborate TV show like The Truman Show. Producers come up with funny twists, little complications, and bad luck moments to entertain the viewers. Last week, someone crashed into my car. Later that night, my car got stuck in the mud at Jenn's house and had to be towed out. Yesterday, while working out, the treadmill suddenly turned off - literally came to an instant stop. I took that as yet another sign from the cosmos that my life is a joke. That some higher power was laughing at the chubby girl's attempt to get fit. See what I mean? Self-pitying. Overly dramatic.

However, with the bad comes the good. I am also blessed with the ability to see the bigger picture. The horrifying earthquake and tsunami in Japan serve as a reminder how lucky I am. So, in those moments when I feel like Milton from Office Space, I remind myself that it's all about perspective. No one's life is perfect, but in complete honesty, mine is pretty damn close. Here's how I know:

Identity crisis > Nuclear crisis

Paying $3.59/gallon > Risking (or losing) my life to fight against a brutal dictator

My brother in boot camp in South Carolina > My brother fighting in Afghanistan

Unemployed > Homeless

Getting my car stuck in the mud > My car being swept away by water

My heart goes out to all those affected by the tsunami in Japan, the government in Libya, and everywhere else in the world where people are suffering. Because when you get down to it, I'm not suffering. I'm selfish...and if anyone's red stapler is missing, it's certainly not mine.

Man Meat #10

Friday night, I went up to Columbus with a good friend to watch the Blue Jackets take on the Los Angeles Kings. Unfortunately, the Jackets lost, 4-2, and I witnessed my first hat trick at the murderous hands of LA's Anze Kopitar. Despite the upsetting outcome, I left the game with some inspiration for Man Meat Monday...and that inspiration comes in the burly form of...

Rick Nash

Claim to Fame: Right winger and captain of the Columbus Blue Jackets

Birthday: June 16, 1984

It only makes sense that I want Rick Nash (or as I affectionately call him - Rick Nash-ty). He looks all kinds of brawny lumberjack and serves as the face of the NHL franchise closest in proximity to me. Drafted first overall in the 2002 NHL Entry Draft, Nash has loyally spent his entire NHL career with the Blue Jackets. He has been to four All-Star games, was named to Team Canada in 2006, and helped Team Canada win gold in 2010.

In 2009, he was awarded the NHL Foundation Player Award, an award presented annually to a player who deserves recognition for his involvement in charitable works in his community. Over the years, he has volunteered with the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation, Jackets for Jackets coat collection, an adult literacy campaign, contributed to a scholarship fund, and started the #61 Good Health Challenge to encourage kids to make healthy life choices.

Did I mention that he's 6'4," 218 pounds, and loves Ohio State football? Match made in heaven.

Random tidbit: During the 2004-2005 NHL lockout, he moved to Switzerland and played in the Swiss Elite League.

Only downfall?: His favorite band is/was Creed. No one is perfect.

As much as I loved watching the game and spending time with a good friend on Friday, the best part of my evening was getting this - a Rick Nash bobblehead.

A bobblehead is perfect for me...because I love any scenario in which he can't tell me no.

So, readers: It's your turn. Could you say no to Rick?

Remember: It's Rick, the 'lumberjack' if you're nash-ty.

2009 Ford Collision.

Last night, I was involved in my first car crash. I suppose I was a bit naive about wrecks before this. I always thought - I'm a good driver. It's not going to happen to me. Quickly, I learned that you cannot discount the poor driving skills of others.

Here's how it went down:

I was stopped at a red light on our way home from Golden Corral, talking to Jenn and listening to The Temper Trap. The light turned green. I put my foot on the gas. About midway through the intersection, I noticed a car to my right that showed absolutely no signs of stopping. I actually had time to say, "Uhh...is this guy going to stop?!" I honked my horn. Luckily, I slammed on my gas or else he would have t-boned us on Jenn's side.

He clipped the back passenger side of my car. I pulled over on the entrance ramp. He stopped in a parking lot, about thirty yards away. After two minutes of deep breathing, hazard lights, and a couple angry punches to my thigh, I stepped out into the rain. The perpetrator, a bespectacled middle-aged man, was jogging through a swampy field toward me.

After asking if we were okay, he said, "Did I have a red light?" My basic reaction:

My actual reaction: "Yes. Yes, you did." On busy Field's Ertel Road. At 8:30 PM.

He said, "I've never been in a wreck before. I guess there's a first time for everything." Hmm...yeah. Except for my raunchy evenings with any number of professional hockey players.

After exchanging insurance information, we shook hands and he apologized profusely. At least everyone was okay.

But, seriously - Was this God punishing me for eating at Golden Corral? I feel somewhat guilty every time I leave there. I know it's not good to eat three gluttonous plates of food followed by two different desserts, but when you pay $13 for a buffet, wouldn't you feel obligated to get your fill?

Raunchy Glee-cap.

Sorry that it's a bit late, but here's this week's glee-cap.

+ If Emma hasn't done the deed with Uncle Jesse yet, there is still hope for Emma and Schue. I suppose I've known this all along, but it's nice to hear she still has feelings for him. I'm not even a huge fan of Emma, but I do want that Season 1 Schemma goodness back.

- The return of Gwyneth Paltrow. She was great in the first episode as substitute Holly Holiday, but this was a little too much for me. Her sex-infused performance of "Do You Wanna Touch Me?" seemed absurd. If a high school teacher actually did something like this, they would be fired in 2 seconds flat. I do, however, wish I had some private performances from my old vice principal...but that's neither here nor there...

+ Santana has some depth. Her tears at Brittany's locker showed Naya Rivera's acting chops for perhaps the first time. It's nice to see the soft side of Santana, but she's McKinley High's resident bitch...so it better not last too long.

- I don't like the whole Brittany/Santana romance. I know they've been kissing and hand-holding for quite some time, but this seemed to come from nowhere. She never seemed jealous of Artie before. She was overly possessive of Sam in the last episode when he kissed Brittany. I suppose you could interpret that as her actually being jealous about Brittany, but she never seemed to care when Britt was grinding on Artie's wheelchair. Also, anyone that actually likes Brittany needs to seek psychiatric help.

- I'm a bit shocked about how clueless the students are about sex. That's not realistic. At all. Quinn has been pregnant. Puck and Santana feel up everything with a pulse. They don't need sex education Holly Holiday-style. They need free condoms.

+ The performance of "Landslide." It sounded beautiful. I love that song, anyway.

+ Burt Hummel = Dad of the Year. I love Kurt and Burt's relationship. Mike O'Malley steals every scene he's in. "Don't throw yourself around like you don't matter. 'Cause you matter, Kurt." *sigh* Kurt seemed like a bit of a hypocrite, though. Last week, he asked Burt to educate himself on gay sex, but this week, he doesn't want to talk about it? Side note: If someone showed up at my parents' workplace to tell them to talk to me about sex, there would be problems. Yes, Blaine. You are over-stepping your boundaries.

- After Blaine's sexy preface to the private school girls, I had my hopes WAY up for the Warblers' performance. "Animal" by Neon Trees? Really? There is nothing sexy about that...not even when you turn on the foam machines.

+ Emma is afraid of the "hose monster" and thinks "Afternoon Delight" is eating dessert in the middle of the day. Hilarious.

- This goes without saying...Quinn and Finn. NOT COOL. Quinn would still be in the celibacy club while hooking up with Finn. Ugh.

- Schue and Holly. Eww. Luckily, this will be very short-lived.

All in all, I was pretty disappointed with last night's episode. One week after making underage drinking look okay, Glee found a way to trivialize pre-marital sex. Let's be clear: I'm no prude. You can successfully do a sex-based episode if viewers leave with the right message. Thankfully, Burt Hummel spoke truth to a VERY important message. I worry, however, that it was overshadowed by the other characters. Sex is like a "hug, only wetter?" Awesome message for your young viewers. At least they discouraged the making of sex tapes? Haha...

Luckily, regionals are next week. So, we're back to the basics. A high school glee club singing in a competition. Good thing because I'm starting to get a little disenchanted with the wandering storylines. I'm a bit nervous because Glee is singing all original songs. Yikes. We'll see!

It's Fat Tuesday...

...and I'm jealous. I know. Jealousy is an ugly thing, but really...who doesn't wish they were in New Orleans tonight? I will go to Mardi Gras before I die.

In honor of the biggest party night of the year in the biggest party city in the country, I will post some fun pictures I took in New Orleans last spring break. Time to live vicariously through pictures.

The infamous Bourbon Street

St. Charles Streetcar. Some interesting characters on here.

Yep. Notice Eric's Michael Jackson pose.

My personal favorite flasher.

Hurricanes from Pat O'Briens.

The amazing cemetaries.

Heaven in one doughy beignet. Cafe du Monde, I want you.

Hand Grenades.

We had a few beads...

Yeah, I'm a bit nostalgic. Sorry I'm not sorry.

Man Meat Monday #9

I just realized that it's Monday and had a tiny panic attack. Not only do I have no witty jokes prepared for this week's hunk of man meat, but I haven't even chosen the guy!

So, after ten minutes of forcing myself to think of someone who doesn't play hockey, I've decided on someone who is popular right now and more than worthy of the honor.

Colin Firth

Claim to Fame: Actor (Pride and Prejudice, Love Actually, The King's Speech)

Birthday: September 10, 1960

For me, Colin Firth is the British George Clooney. He is classically handsome, hilarious, and an incredibly talented actor. He stole my heart as Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice. He re-stole it in Love Actually, as the English-speaking writer who falls in love with his Portuguese housekeeper. We got to hear him sing in Mamma Mia! He was nominated for an Academy Award last year for his role in A Single Man. Then, he won it this year for his portrayal of the stammering King George VI in The King's Speech.

Since we here at Man Meat Monday appreciate a humanitarian, I'm obligated to tell you that Colin is quite the human rights' activist. He supports Survival International, a non-governmental organization that defends tribal groups. He has also worked to stop the deportation of a group of people from the Democratic Republic of Congo seeking asylum.

On Friday, my favorite comedian, Bill Maher, made a new rule about Mr. Firth. He explained Colin's perfection so much better than I ever could. "New Rule: Colin Firth has to admit that he's not a human being, but a robot designed by women as the perfect man. He's handsome, charming, witty. He's got that accent and a gay best friend. The only way he could be any better is if he ejaculated Haagen-Dazs."

Random Tidbit: He is married to an Italian woman (Livia) and speaks the language fluently.

Only downfall?: He's married, has children, and we have a 27-year age difference. Love knows no age, right?

I very seriously contemplated posting a video of Colin doing a certain something-something to himself while in the bathtub from And When Did You Last See Your Father? Ultimately, I decided against it...because you might be at work or in class. If you want to see it (and I assure you - YOU DO), youtube search 'Colin Firth in tub.' Instead, here is Colin's perfect Golden Globe acceptance speech. Keepin' it classy.

So, readers: It's your turn. Would you drink Colin Firth's bath water?

So much green and pink.

This weekend was probably the closest I'll ever come to experiencing The Hangover.

I'm not entirely sure how to explain it. As the (usually) only sober one at gatherings, I'm left with the enjoyable task of vividly remembering and recounting intricate, and often embarrassing, details about my friends from the night before.

This weekend, however, was somewhat different. Instead of waking up with the thought, "I cannot wait to remind them," I woke up thinking, "Wait. Did that actually happen?"

On Wednesday, Jenn and I made our way to Oxford to ensure an early start to our first post-graduate Green Beer Day. For those of you who aren't familiar with GBD: Green Beer Day was a tradition started at Miami University in 1952. Since spring break always coincided with St. Patrick's Day, the students decided to celebrate the holiday on the Thursday before spring break. Over the years, it has become the biggest day of the year at Miami, with bars opening at 5:30 AM, restaurants selling green eggs and ham, numerous arrests and citations, students making and buying hilarious GBD shirts, and often, skipping class or showing up drunk...with green tongues.

Like all good Miami students, we (and CJ) woke up at 4:30 for green jell-o shots and green beer at Brick Street. We watched the sun rise from the dance floor and as the only three people dancing at 7:00 AM, we even got our picture posted on the Middletown Journal's website.

Around 9:00, we went for lunch at BW3's before hunting for George Clooney. Clooney is acting in and directing a new movie, The Ides of March, that shot in Oxford last week. The movie also stars Ryan Gosling, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Paul Giamatti, Marisa Tomei, Evan Rachel Wood, and my personal favorite - Max Minghella. On GBD, scenes were being shot in Hall Auditorium and, being the celebrity whore I am, we searched and searched...but to no avail. I did, however, find the trailers and a campaign bus used in the movie. Clooney is playing Mike Morris, a presidential candidate.

Sib and Morgan met us before Round #2. We went to 45 East and Mac & Joe's for some more green beer. We stopped at Brick Street and the Ying Yang Twins were doing a concert. Hilarious.

Picture taken from the Middletown Journal...because I was getting nowhere near that stage.

After a necessary nap, I woke up for Round #3 - dancing at Stadium.

Thanks to Morgan for the picture!

All in all, it was a successful Green Beer Day. Needless to say, I have absolutely no intentions of growing up and intend on celebrating again next year.

Friday, we had a huge celebration for Jenn's birthday. She rented out a two-floor penthouse suite at the Garfield Inn and Suites. It was incredible. As we waited for everyone to show up, we took pictures, listened to music, played Dance Central, and talked.

Yes, those are Snooki slippers and sunglasses. Yes, that cake does say, "Throw some glitter. Make it rain."

When everyone got there, we headed out to Bartini's for Grindfest 2011. Seriously, I have never been so sore in my life. Four hours, multiple drinks, 70 songs, three shattered glasses, a whip your hair-a-thon, and too many laughs later, we stumbled back to the hotel for food and some desperately-needed sleep. For the sake of everyone's pride and future occupations, I will not post any pictures. Let's just say we won more than Charlie Sheen. This was honestly the most fun I've had since college.

Saturday, everyone managed to wake up, eat breakfast, and leave before check-out time. That night, we went to Stefano's and Lakeside Inn in Middletown for dinner and to catch up with good friends. I may or may not have slept for 14 hours on Sunday.

I love that I can still go to Oxford and feel at home. I love that I can have the time of my life, sitting in a hotel room with my best friends. I love that we can dance for hours and never get bored. I love that we took over the dance floor and had no shame whatsoever. I love that it's possible to pull a muscle during "The Cupid Shuffle." I love that I can sit down and have a great conversation with people I haven't seen in months...but most of all, I absolutely love my amazing friends. Again, so lucky.