The Night We Stalked a Bachelorette Reject

23 May 2017 Leave a comment

by CoJo in dating, fun, life, Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , ,

I’m going to begin this post by asking to not be judged.  Then I’m going to follow up that request with the realization that I’m a 34-year-old woman who is still obsessed with the Bachelor Franchise, and I deserve to be judged.

A few weeks ago, a notable Bachelorette/Bachelor In Paradise contestant, Chad Johnson,  posted something on his Instagram which indicated he would be in San Diego making an appearance at a popular downtown establishment for Rachel’s Bachelorette season premiere.  My friend Tay caught this immediately, and notified my sister and me.  We made a commitment that we would be at  The Tipsy Crow that evening and we would meet Chad.

Now, to me, Chad was a very unlikable dude.  He seemed disrespectful to women both on his season of The Bachelorette, and on Bachelor In Paradise.  He wasn’t anyone I wanted to support in the least bit.  But… being the huge nerd fan I am of the franchise in general, I obviously needed to be there.  I made a calendar invite so Tay and Riss would have consistent notifications and not forget about our planned girls night, and on this past Monday morning we reconvened and were set to go.

Until…

So… then I called The Tipsy Crow…

So… remember when I asked you to not judge me?  Judge me.  I was that crazy person.  I called the bar to make sure Chad would be there. Tay and I get to the bar super early and in true form, act as if we didn’t even know there was an event going on that night.  The security guards informed us the upstairs was reserved for the “Bachelorette” event and “The Bachelor” would be in attendance.  I *cluelessly* questioned that …. “Wait THE BACHELOR will be here??” (not even knowing who he might be referring to), as another male security guard stepped in and clarified “a guy from the Bachelorette will be here… his name is Chad.”  Ohhhhh we had noooo idea!  The nice men lead us to the only table available in the place and told us we could order food and drinks and then if we wanted, we could go upstairs, where the Bachelorette event was being held, and where Chad would be taking photos with all the guests… once the rope was opened at 7:30.

We did just that.  We sat at a table in the back, ordered a delicious tuna melt to share, and a a couple of drinks (for me)… we waited…until 7:30, then tried to walk to the front… where at this time it was a BUM RUSH of *actual* crazy girls, who had shown up holding roses and wearing matching Bachelor shirts.  I was literally embarrassed to be grouped with such people. Tay and I had met up with my sister, Riss, as well as a few other girlfriends, and stood in a very crowded line to get upstairs.  We stood in that line for the entirely too long amount of time that everyone else peaced out.  One thing I have in common with Tay is that we are both stubborn to a fault.  Did either one of us REALLY care about meeting this douchebag Chad Johnson?? NO. But were we going to wait in a never-moving line, and finally be first in the line to just leave and give up on the night??  Also, no.

I had made my sister my bartender for the night.  I’d wait in this ridiculous line, and she would just continue to go to the bar and buy us drinks and deliver them to said line.  At the point that Tay and I were number one on the line, they had announced that Chad wasn’t even upstairs anymore taking pictures with “fans,” but he had gone downstairs to where we had just been sitting eating our food as the first patrons of the fucking night because the upstairs lounge was “at capacity.”  I looked at Tay… “We literally couldn’t have played this worse if we tried.”  She agreed.

We decided we would wait.  Chad would eventually be back upstairs to the lounge to greet his “fans” and watch the premiere.  I literally didn’t care about Chad, as a person, but I cared about the cause.  We were here to meet him. We finally got upstairs… so did Riss.  We plotted… we spotted the back entry stairway that was also roped off to only staff and decided he’d be coming back up that staircase.  So we stood and waited…and waited… finally, right when the show started, I decided I was making a move.  If I left down the original staircase we came up, I was told I wouldn’t be allowed back up.  I informed Tay and Riss,

“I was taught by an old friend… if you want to go somewhere you are not allowed, you just need to act like you own the place, don’t look at anyone, and do it.  I’m going down the staff (forbidden) staircase and I’m going to see if I can find Chad.”

They warned me I may be kicked out, but at this point I didn’t care.  I descended the forbidden stairway, passing staff members sitting on it around the corner sharing dinner, didn’t look at them, and kept going.  I scrounged the bar looking for Chad and couldn’t find him.  I was about to go back up the forbidden stairway to let the girls know Chad was longgggg gone… when I decided I’d like to have a puff of a Black & Mild (yes, classy… I know)… so I exited out of the forbidden exit near the forbidden staircase, full-on determined I’d make it back in that forbidden door when I was done, as well as up the forbidden staircase when I got in.

What did I see outside on the sidewalk?  Oh… it was CHAD in all his glory, full lights, camera, action, doing an interview.  I quickly took a pic and sent it to Tay and Riss, an indication they should come down the forbidden stairway immediately, if they wanted to catch a glimpse of this hunk of meat on stilts (yes, he has the skinniest chicken legs on a man hunk you have ever seen in your entire life).

Chad was done with his interview and I overheard him saying, “Are you going to give me a good edit?? Everyone makes me look like an asshole.  I don’t want an asshole edit. I want to look like a good guy”

The producer tried to make him feel ok, by telling him they’d give him a good edit, and everything is a little “give and take.”  I thought… LOL they’re not gonna give him a good edit and he doesn’t like that.  So I set myself into action.

As soon as he walked away from the camera, I approached him.  And again, I deserve to be judged… because now I’m a straight up liar.

“Chad… Hi.  My name is Courtney and I was hired to write a blog about how you’re not actually an asshole, but you’re a really good guy.”

“Oh, really?  Cool!”

“Yeah, my sister and my friend are also writing the blog with me and they should be down here in a second.”

*Cue Riss and Taylor coming out of the forbidden doorway at the bottom of the forbidden staircase.

I walk quickly to them clarifying that they are also part of this very special blog highlighting how great Chad is, and they give me eyes, with agreement.

I take a selfie with Chad, *for the blog* and then I have Carissa take photos of Tay and me with Chad *for the blog.*  Chad happily takes all of these photos, and then tells Carissa that she is one of the girls he’s “given a rose” to tonight.  She says, “No, you didn’t give me one, but YOU SHOULD HAVE.”  She then, continues to tell him he has “really skinny legs” which I’m sure he was thrilled about, shakes his hand, and we all continue on our way.

Chad continued on his way to that upstairs lounge we waited all night to see…and we continued upon our way home.  It was a Monday night.  What were were all doing out at a downtown bar, anyway?  F-List celeb sighting… check.  Ridiculous photos with F-list celeb, check.  Here’s to stubbornness… and my friends.

xoxo

Gossip Girl

Sorry, Charlie… [Video]

02 Jun 2015 Leave a comment

by CoJo in fun, life Tags: , , , , , , , ,

There’s apparently this new thing all the kids on fleek are doing (that means the cool kids, not the ones on drugs… although probably most of them are also on drugs).  It’s a game called “Charlie Charlie.”  I heard about it last week in an article that showed up on my Facebook feed.

If you’re not under 15 and on fleek (I’m sorry if I”m overusing this term, but I”m old, and it makes me feel nice about myself to use it correctly), you may not have heard about this yet, but it’s a game in which a demon named Charlie is summoned to answer questions; think of it as a simpler version of Ouiji in which no one is actually touching anything.  You draw two perpendicular lines on a piece of paper, intersecting them in the middle to make a cross, and then write the words “yes” and “no”  in each of the four spaces created.  You then put a pencil on each line of the cross, balancing one pencil on top of the other.

In this game, you’re supposed to ask: “Charlie, Charlie, can you play?” or “Charlie, Charlie, are you here?” and the top pencil will begin to spin and point to either yes or no.

This game has picked up so much social media attention in the past week, that a Vatican-approved exorcist has actually weighed in on the subject and warned youngsters of the dangers of summoning demons.

A story written in a British newspaper explained that the game is only a combination of gravity and the positioning of the pencils that make the pencils move.  I fully believe that, but needed to try it for myself to check it out.  I don’t actually think demons are coming to move the pencils, but I also didn’t want to play around with that weird stuff.   I just wanted to prove that the pencils will move with or without demon summoning.

The hardest part about this game was finding wooden pencils.  Who even owns pencils anymore?  Out of four people in my house, nobody had a pencil.  I texted V, who was coming over to watch The Bachelorette, and asked her to steal some from work, but she had already left, so she said to check the bins she left in my carport.  The girl is moving to Guatemala for two years, and getting rid of almost all of her stuff, yet she’s still good for a package of number-two pencils which she is storing until she returns.  What am I going to do without her?

I set out with a hypothesis.  I could balance the pencils, say whatever I wanted, or nothing at all, and the pencils would still move, just as they did in the countless vines and youtube videos out there.

I gathered my supplies and began my challenge.  On one attempt, the pencil actually did move a little bit, but I realized the ceiling fan directly above me was on high speed.  Not fair.  My roommate, Emily walked in from work during one of my attempts and was completely confused, “I don’t get it…” and Ginge was in the carport where I locked him, with instructions of not speaking while I was videoing.

Later on, a few more of the ladies came over for our Monday night viewing of the Bachelorette (yes, I’m 32, and yes, I still have Bachelorette viewing parties).  When I filled Lexi in on my evening activities, it was immediately, “Court, I really forgot how weird you are.”  Can I be weird?  Maybe a little… but five minutes later, who was the one begging me to try the Charlie game again?!  (Lexi)!

There we went again….  Here is a compilation of my attempts of debunking the Charlie demon:

What do I have to take from this?  I’m not sure.  All I know is that I couldn’t completely say this game is BS.  I really wish I could have.  Charlie, if you’re out there, I really hope you’re enjoying this media attention, and I also really hope you make peace with yourself and transition from “demon” to “loving, sweet boy of the afterlife.”  I mean if Bruce Jenner could transition from Olympic male gold medalist to beautiful older woman, “Caitlyn” in this crazy world, I have faith in you.   And THAT’s a story for another day.

Goodnight my muffins.

xoxo

Gossip Girl

A Bit of Reality… ‘Aint Never Hurt Nobody

25 Mar 2015 Leave a comment

by CoJo in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

Me:  “I think I’m going to sell my SUV and get a Prius…”

[as i look across the couch to see his facial expression]

———————-

[he doesn’t look up from his laptop; his facial expression doesn’t change]

Ginge:  “I think we should start seeing other people…”

I just smirk.  I would never sell my SUV to buy a Prius unless absolutely necessary.  Not that I have anything against Prius’ (or Priuses?) in general, but they’re really just not my cup of tea to drive.   I just knew the suggestion would ruffle Ginge’s feathers, as it did.   Yet, he knew I was joking with my random comment.

What this got me thinking about, however, was, what if Ginge were to say to me truthfully and genuinely, “I think we should start seeing other people?”

I mean this comment stemmed from the jokiest of jokes, but it brought to my attention that in the past 14 months, this thought has never crossed my mind.  Am I naive?  Am I egotistical?  What the HECK am I?  I thought back to the time when I just met Ginge.  We had only gone on two, maybe three dates, and T-Diddy [mom] was asking about him over the phone.  I remember telling her:

“It’s weird.  I don’t have to guess about him.  He always calls, he always texts, he always follows through with plans… I don’t even have to wonder with him…”

What the HECK game did he play?  Well apparently a freakin’ good one.  He played the game in which you are an actual genuine person who says and does what he says he’s going to do, and treats a woman like she’s actually a human being.  I mean, really?  It’s not that hard.  But sadly, it’s out of the ordinary, and this is something I commented to T-Diddy.   She, of course, gave me her wonderful motherly advice, that I SHOULDN’T have to wonder and I SHOULDN’T ever worry if he’s going to call me again.

Which brings me to my current point.  At over a year I have NEVER wondered or worried about if Ginge was going to call again, or if he didn’t like me anymore.  He’s always made me feel like I’ve had him and I’ll never lose him.  But this one comment really got me thinking more than I usually do [I guess I don’t think that much?]… Have I made him feel similarly?

I feel like I’ve been screwed over so many freakin’ times over the past several years, that it’s been all about me… “does he like me?”  “is he treating me correctly?”  “is he making ME his number ONE priority?”  “does he love my family?”  “can he live without me?”  …blah blah blah… me, me, ME….

What about HIM?  Let’s not get me wrong… I’ve come to really love this guy to death.  But that silly comment just put this thought in my head…. what if he were to want to leave ME? [I mean who really would want to leave me?? But still…]   HELLO!!!! Get off your high horse, you ASS!  This is a two-way street!!    How have I never even considered that this wonderful, kind, handsome, completely fantastic man could ever do better?  [Well, better…?  No, he couldn’t…]  But my point being… I knew those silly words that came out of his mouth, “I think we should start seeing other people,” were completely nonsense, and joking around, but they really hit home.

If I had heard those words out of his mouth in truth, I’m not sure what I would do.  I know I’d probably be in shock… because apparently over the past 14 months, I’ve felt the most secure I’ve ever felt in a relationship before.  I guess all I can say here is that maybe i learned a bit about myself.   I’ve learned that I hope I’m doing all I can to make my man feel just as secure as I do.  And if I’m not, I sure as hell need to do a better job.  Thanks, Ginge… for being you.

‘Til we meet again… hopefully less than 3 months from now….

xoxo

Gossip Girl

Kamping (Video)

03 Aug 2013 Leave a comment

by CoJo in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

My sister and I just took a one-way road trip from New York to California.   If you knew either of us, you’d probably assume we embarked on this road trip completely un-prepared.  Un-prepared, that is, except for the awesome 2-man tent we picked up at Walmart a few weeks ago.  Details, details… who needs sleeping bags, pillows, bug repellent or anything else camping-related?  Also, who needs planning?

Here we are, 8:50pm on a Wednesday night in Oklahoma driving down Rt 40 W looking for a campsite.  By “looking for a campsite” I mean getting off every exit with a camping symbol on it, and finding out that just meant that you could park your RV in a parking lot.  On cement.  No thank you.

“Carissa, we need wine first, then we’ll find a campsite…. let me run in that gas station and ask.”

We’re in the MIDDLE.OF.NO.WHERE.OKLAHOMA.  I walk in to the gas station mart.  It was kinda nice.  They had beer.  We didn’t want beer.  There was a drunk guy standing at the counter trying to buy something as I waited impatiently to ask about wine.  The drunk guy turns around, looks at me, and asks:  “Are you a Cherokee?”

WTF.

“No.  Do you know where I can find wine?”

“Yes, down the road a half a mile, make a left past the Big Cowboy.  The liquor store is open for another 10 minutes.”

I RUN out of there, signaling Carissa in the driver’s seat to start driving before I fully get into the car.

“GO.GO.GO!  We have 10 minutes and it’s past the Big Cowboy!!!”

We peel outta there, and drive down the dark road back and forth for exactly 8 minutes before I make her pull over at the nearest humans to ASK where this “Big Cowboy” is.  The old people with no teeth directed us a few feet down the pitch black road, where we again, run out of the car and catch the liquor store by about 30 seconds before closing.  By “liquor store” I mean a place about the size of my bedroom with a few dusty bottles, and tequila inside of a shotgun shaped glass.  After a few minutes, we decide on a fine BOX of wine, since that’s more portable than a bottle.   And wine is necessary to watch The Bachelorette, which was already loaded online on my laptop.

I hand the elderly woman my ID.  She looks at it, looks at me, shakes her head and says “1982?”

“Yes, I’m 30.”

She says, “You don’t look 30.”

I say “thank you,” but for the first time.  I’m not flattered.  I’m thinking she’s actually not going to let me buy this wine.  She really doesn’t believe me.  At least my 21-year-old sister has an ID on her.  That’s my only comfort as I give her a pleading look to just let me buy the wine.

She lets me buy the wine.

We get out of there and start driving.  My friend Doon texts me and asks if I need help searching for a campsite.  She asks where I am.  I send her a screenshot of my map.  She still doesn’t understand where I am.  Neither do I.  We drive a bit more, while internet searching.  We find a place called KOA.  For some reason we assumed this stood for Kamping of America.  I still kinda think it does, but I’m not positive.

There was no one there at the front desk, but there was a wooden counter with a sign above it.  Carissa pulled up and let me run out to check it out.  It said “Late Arrivals Welcome.”  Yes…….  I read the instructions and grabbed an envelope.  The envelope had a tent spot assignment written on it, and instructions for how to register and pay.  I wrote down my information on the envelope, shoved the required amount of cash inside and put it in the lock box.  Errrrrrr…..

It was hot.  It was humid.  There were a LOT of bugs.  It was dark.  Very dark.  We put the car lights facing our little patch of assigned grass and pulled the little tent out from the trunk.  We didn’t know how to pitch a tent, but it looked easy enough.  I’m sure it was easy.  It just took longer than it probably should have.  I blame the dark.  We couldn’t see a thing unless we were positioned correctly in front of the car lights.  I somehow found a flashlight halfway through the tent pitching attempt which aided us with the small pieces we were dropping into the grass.

Finally, the tent was up and the box of wine was open.  We put the laptop on top of the box of wine, calling it the “wine table,” thinking it was the most clever play on “coffee table.”  It was pretty clever.  We watched The Bachelorette as we swatted bugs off the screen and strained our necks to hear every word as the 18-wheelers whizzed down the highway behind us.

We watched TV until the computer died, and then sang to songs off of our iPhones.  When it was bedtime, we fell right asleep and accidentally slept in until 10:30am.  Who over-sleeps in a tent?  These two.  Whoops.

Here’s a little video log of our tent pitching.  Don’t worry, I sped it up… (a little)

More road trip stories to follow…

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