Two things.

First: THIS.

Second: Been drugged all day. I guess that’s what happens when you have 2 wisdom teeth removed – teeth that, for your whole life, you were told did not exist. Teeth that nobody believed you had, even when you were 22 and one started poking through the gums. Teeth that are not a bone spur or calcification, thank you Dr. MomGoogle.

Also 9 cavities filled and 21 more to go. I s#it you not.

Dinner party

My sister recently issued a hypothetical question (she loves to do that) involving which 5 celebrities or historical figures, living or dead, you would invite to a dinner party. Not only must they be interesting to you, but they must have common topics on which to speak and must be able to get along with each other… for example, inviting Oscar Wilde and Winston Churchill could either be fantastic (because of their quips and witticisms) or terrifying (if it turned out they wore similar cravats or failed to greet each other with the proper panache).

It’s taken me awhile to come up with my celebrity dinner party, but here goes:

1. Jon Stewart. Because if conversation gets out of hand he can mediate and direct to a better, more common ground. I’d also ask a lot of questions about the guests he’s hosted over the years. Also he is teh sexc.

2. Damian Kulash. Not just because of my overwhelming crush on him coupled with crippling hero worship, but because he is a genuine brilliant soul. Also artistic. Also gorgeous. But he has to have shaggy hair if he’s allowed at my party.

3. Ellen DeGeneres. Why I tend to be aiming toward talk show hosts here is unknown, but as with Stewart, DeGeneres has wit, charm, a sense of humour, and the ability to steer conversation. She also has a broad range of knowledge which would lead to interesting conversations.

4. Oscar Wilde (sans Winnie). His prose is among the most haunting, his wit also razor-sharp, his imagination boundless. I can only imagine the clever put-downs he’d give me over my cooking. Scratch that, this is a catered affair.

5. David Sedaris. I will make him recite his “Six to Eight Black Men” in honour of the season, and we will bond over being short and having lots of siblings.

This would be the best party ever.

Edited to add: If there were any more space at the table, or one of the guests couldn’t make it, Betty White would be next on the list. Because she’s a strong woman, embraces her age instead of fighting it, has a career that keeps picking up speed, and she’s a total baller.

I’ve got a crush on Andy Ross

Yeah, I did this. No, I’m not ashamed. Well, a little. But pretty proud of how I cranked this baby out in like half an hour.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tZ5DuUV-Jjg

And now, the backstory:

Last June, I won tickets to see my favourite band, OK Go, perform at the Kennedy Centre Center in Washington, D.C., initially thinking the Kennedy Centre Center was in New York. (For the geographically challenged, NY is a LOT closer to TO than DC.) Thankfully, my grandmother used to be a flight attendant and so she got me free plane tickets to get there (with the stipulation that the other free ticket be granted to her. So yeah, I’ve been to a rock concert with my granny, what of it? She used to be a Playboy bunny. True story). Anyway.

I’ve loved OK Go’s music for about 5 years after having seen them by chance on a repeat of MadTV where they performed their famous dance to the single “A Million Ways.” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O7BYBhlvmb4 So obvs the chance to see them live was too incredible to pass up… and it far exceeded my expectations. Yowza. Laser guitars, multi-instrumentalists, handbells… http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7KBM7T_gPDU My grandmother later told the band that she was “hesitant at first but that bell thingy made me a fan!” to which they awkwardly went “heyy… that’s great…” and I died of embarassment. I was also only able to utter that I had flown in from Toronto that afternoon just to see them, to which they responded in much the same manner, and I died again. “They think I’m a moron,” I said to myself. “My favourite band, filled to the brim with musical and artistic genius, probably thought I was some teeny-bopper fangirl who couldn’t get a hold of her tiny brain cells to say something interesting or intelligent. Now what do I do?”

The answer came to me while babysitting my parents’ dogs: Write a love song.

For most of my love affair with OK Go, I, like thousands of others, have been infatuated with the lead singer, Damian. (He is fairly swoon-worthy, to be fair. There’s a reason girls go for guys in bands.) During the concert, however, before my brain decided to deflate, I noticed the second guitarist-slash-keyboardist-slash-chime-player-slash-hi-hat-operator-slash-whatever-the-hell-instruments-they-decided-to-pick-up-that-day. He was, to say the least, quite impressive. A maestro of multiple instruments. Capable of playing anything they threw at him with astonishing ease. My two decades of music training kicked in and I was ga-ga. He signed my ticket. I probably drooled on him. He played it off like it was all cool though. Probably happens all the time.

So when it came time to write my love song, Andy had managed to usurp Damian’s place in the crush-on-a-cute-guy center centre in my brain. Plus his name just fit itself so nicely to music.

Days went by and the video racked up a couple of views. Then it got tumbl’d by Andy’s official Tumblr fan site (www.fuckyeahandyross.tumblr.com) and the views went up. Then for some reason it got incredibly famous in Estonia (just check the web stats… Estonia is that tiny eastern European country that is the same colour as Canada on the map). Then Andy found it! He commented (not on the video link) that he was “Very flattered” and that the song had a “good hook, too!”

I died again.

Almost.

The palpitations made it seem that way, anyway.

That was back in June. Damian’s managed to creep his way back into my brain’s cute-guy-crush centre but he’s about on par with Andy now. Maybe it’s time to write a ballad…