of ryan reynolds and garden eels

It doesn't happen very often but occasionally, after a martini or two, I blame myself for the d-i-v-o-r-c-e of Ryan Reynolds and Scarlett Johansson...

 

The time, place and why are not relevant here.  Two weeks after he was named "world's sexiest person alive" I met Ryan Reynolds.  He was tall, he made me weak in the knees, he was polite (take note Vince Vaughn, he even knew how to say "thank you"), he made me blush, he really was the sexiest man alive.

 

I would be wise to advise that our interaction took place after I had been at work for 8-hours and was working late, like 6-hours late....

  

Around 3-hours after he first said hello and made me blush like a giddy little girl, we found ourselves in front on a garden eel exhibit.  Glancing over his shoulder he smiled at me and asked while all the eels were looking one direction.   We had chatted throughout the evening, but here was my chance.  In a moment of delirium I replied "because they have been staring at me for 5-years and now you are here" in a sarcastically witty tone.

 

And that is when Ryan Reynolds looked at me and laughed.   A laugh straight from the gods to his perfect lips.

 

Seeing our interaction someone in his pose responded "well yeah, he IS the sexiest man alive..."  To which Ryan eloquently replied with an adorable eye-roll "that was so two weeks ago, I like her answer" - and I swear his teeth sparkled when he smiled.

 

Two weeks later, as I waited in the grocery line, I read a tabloid that screamed "Ryan and Scarlett divorce". 

 

I never did read the article - it is much more fun after a few martinis to think my spinster-self maybe contributed to the tabloid headline.

crawfish and my future husband

This weekend I was invited to a good ol' fashioned crawfish boil.  Unsure of what to expect I packed by cooler with vodka-lemonade (which in reality was just a big ol' bag of vodka, water and some crystal light), called my best friend and prepped for what was to be a fabulous evening with strangers.

It should be noted that I called by best friend at 2PM, I was showered, pretty and had the dog walked by 2:30PM and was out on the porch waiting from him by 2:35PM.  When I called to say I was ready he wasn't even dressed yet.

As luck would have it I had a chair, a bag of vodka and a cup, so I justified a 2:35PM cocktail by telling myself someone had to sample the vodka before the party...

One cocktail later my friend showed up and we went on our way.  Traffic was horrid and we finally arrived at the party, vodka in-hand, around 4PM.  There was already tons of crawfish piled on a table, with all sorts of veggies, a cooler of beer and a delightful strawberry-basil-lemonade for my wonderful bag of vodka.

Having never attempted to eat a crawfish I naturally dove right in.  Snapping tails, peeling shell and ending up with the tiniest piece of protein I have ever seen.  I am pretty convinced you burn more calories getting the suckers open than you do actually consuming them.  After a dozen or-so I grew bored of the creatures and ventured to sit in the sun with a cocktail in hand.

And then a southern gentlemen sat at the table of crawfish and taught me the art of eating a freshly boiled crawfish.

Who knew shellfish could be a turn-on?!  He never peeled the shells, he simply snapped the tiny lobster-like crustaceans and sucked.  Tail, brains and even claws.  Someone noticed me staring and asked what was so interesting - I giggled and pointed out the man, his pile of shells and told her to just watch.  Soon all of us were mesmerized.  We must have watched him for three cocktails as we giggled and blushed over his crawfish skills.

And that, dear friends, is how I decided my future husband must be able to properly eat a crawfish.  (Thinking about it still makes me blush)