1. A quick movie review

2. A First Love story… yes I have to go there

3. Cliff notes of Sister and my conversation after the movie

Here we go…

1. I’m not spoiling anything by telling you that this movie is a true story. That only made it more powerful! It is a true love story. Sister just said that the movie depressed her because she wants a love that strong. And that’s pretty much all I can tell you because you’re just going to have to see it yourself. Ah.. one more thing… the movie affected me THAT much more because in the final scene and over the credits played a very nostalgic song, which leads me to…

2. I imagine every person reading this blog has been in a relationship that has been successful for at least a certain amount of time. Leo, the lead character narrates in parts of the film and talks about “moments of impact” in a relationship. The longer the success the less you remember in a sense, BUT there are those “moments of impact.” One of them for me was after a long break up with First Love, we were still a bit awkward around each other. I think it was my first time sleeping at his house and I was confronted with my first “test” (I can’t say that it was a conscious test on his part, but I can’t say it wasn’t). I hated The Cure. I constantly mocked Robert Smith’s cracky crying voice. Yet, there I lay in FL’s arms, the room only lit by the lights on his stereo, and “Pictures of You” on replay. Over and over I listened to that song. He told me he had listened to this song while we were broken up and wanted me to hear it. I can’t remember exactly how he put it, but the impact of the moment was that I felt the pain I’d put him through during our break up. I haven’t been able to listen to the song since because it just reminds me of how much I hurt him. And there I was, watching a movie about a man who loves a woman so much his heart is breaking and Pictures of You comes on… and no, it was not the Adele version which I could have handled. So I cried and cried and cried and cried until everyone had left the theater and I’d used up all the tissues I’d brought. Sister asked me if I was crying because of the movie or because of the song… how could I answer? They were intertwined…

3. Upon returning home, Sister and I were talking about how romantic Leo was. And then Sister said, “Why don’t guys realize that we drag them to these movies because we want them to see what we want?” She brought up a good point. I’ve had some very romantic moments in relationships. Most of them were when I was younger. Makes me wonder if the older guys get, and the more burned they’ve been by women, the less inclined they are to make heartfelt romantic gestures. All I know is I’m getting older, which means when I do wind up in a relationship he will be older too (hopefully), and I won’t settle.  Those truly thoughtful, heartfelt, romantic gestures are a must for me. Hey, I’m a romantic comedy girl, they are a necessity. Not to worry potential man of my dreams, your gestures will be fully appreciated and my thoughts will always be “how can I make you happy” “how can I make you feel special”…

But until I find him, I’ll just have to get my fix in the theater. So This Means War… here I come

©2012 

But that was more like the pre-date stuff. The real date started when I walked myself down the clean city streets to the water where the Olympic Torch stands and a sculpture of an Orca whale plays tricks with your eyes depending how close you get.

The view from the wharf (sea wall?) was so romantic that I decided to sit on a bench with myself. Yes, I held my hand. As the skyscrapers stood around me I looked across the water, over the sea planes (which I SO wanted to go on, but I really do want to save that for when I have an eligible bachelor by my side), over the yachts, over the rowers (which were many) and saw snowcapped mountains with playful clouds moving in and out of their peaks. I must have sat for 30 minutes admiring the beauty of it.

Then it was time to walk. And walk I did for about two hours around the water checking out the amazing waterfront restaurants. I continued on to the rowing club and stopped when I got to Stanley Park (I was saving that for later).

Next I went over the bridge to Granville Island which is a farmers market on steroids. I’ve never seen such beautiful produce and flowers! There were also amazing bakeries and breads (too bad I couldn’t try anything… stupid Gluten!

I ate some nuts for energy and headed off to Stanley Park. It was gorgeous! I know a block from my house is the “Rodeo Drive” of Vancouver, but I’d so much rather take in the scenery and Stanley Park delivered with it’s luscious trees, Lion’s Gate Bridge, and more breathtaking views of the Pacific and the mountains of West Vancouver.

Okay, time for the FUN part of the date! I took myself to the aquarium… that’s why it felt like a “Bachelorette” date. Because, if I was the star of that show, there would definitely be an aquarium date. I find sea creatures, sea mammals, and rain forest creatures fascinating. You could even say hypnotic. I sat on a bench next to one giant tank filled with sting rays, sea turtles, and sharks, for almost an hour. That was between the dolphin show and the bulg.. whale show. I also watched sea lions and otters, jelly fish, and gators. I didn’t spend too much time in the rain forest because I’d just straightened my hair and I wanted it to stay that way!

Then I walked back from the aquarium, back through Stanley Park, back around the wharf, past the Olympic Torch, and up the city blocks back to my hotel.

I ordered two room service meals. One as a late lunch and one that I knew I’d be hungry for around 11pm (I planned on keeping myself up late because I didn’t want the date to end). Again, the meal presentation was right out of Top Chef. After my late lunch it was time for a bubble bath, because I can’t go to a hotel and not take advantage of a large tub!

Then I decided to write this blog. I was still in my robe with my hair pulled back and my face still rosy red from the bath. I put on my Gucci computer glasses, and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I had to do a double take because dang I looked sexy in them!

That’s when I realized that I could look at all that sexiness and feel like it was wasted on… well me.. OR I could just recognize as my second gourmet meal waited for me to indulge, that it’s just waiting for the right guy to join in, because NOW something is crystal clear to me that I never desired before. When I DO meet a great guy, he needs to have the freedom and desire to travel because I want many many more dates like today!

©2012 

Yes, Dirty Virgin has it’s own channel now, YouTube.com/romanticcomedygirl

I will be posting videos about the book and how-to videos for the Dirty Virgin Drinks. So go on over to the channel, subscribe, comment, like and please SHARE the videos with your friends!

Thank you for all of your support! RCG

But I am giving 5 diamond tiaras for the 5 main things I liked about the movie:

1. Jason O’Mara- He can do NO WRONG in my eyes AND supposedly he’s born in 1972, which means he’s not “younger man status”… not that he’s single or would ever be interested in me, it’s just the point that I find a guy who is 40 super sexy hot! That means there’s hope for me. Okay back to the movie review.

2. I love when romantic comedies throw a mashup in there. It works for songs on Glee and it works for mashing up genres… a chick bounty hunter meets romantic high jinks. Fun fun fun! So yes, the movie is cute.. maybe I’m rethinking my 3, maybe I’m being too harsh because the one thing that kept pulling me out was Katherine’s bad accent. (I love her in everything else, so it’s okay to have one negative criticism).

3. Katherine’s bringing curly back… Holla!!! I’m getting so sick and tired of blowing my hair straight and then using that dang straightening iron which I know is doing terrible damage to my hair but not half the damage that Brazilian straightening treatment did three years ago. PLEASE Katherine, do what Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman did for women with naturally curly hair!

4. The shower scene… that’s all I’m sayin’

5. There may or may not be a tie-in to a guy she’s had a thing for, for over a decade… not that I can relate… or maybe I can which is why it’s number 5. I wouldn’t mind what happened on her couch happening on my couch… that’s all I’m sayin’

Overall, as I said, very cute. The coming attractions were GREAT. Can not wait for This Means War!!!!

©2012

Warning: I will be starting with the non-racy to the somewhat racy to the spot on hard core racy! So, read as many as you dare. Here’s what happened in the Chick Posse this week:

1: iPhone Warning From Nash

Nash, like so many others has purchased the latest iPhone that comes with a very special feature…Siri. Personally I think Siri is cool because she’s a chick, and she’s helpful. Nash, has recently relocated and is still learning her way around town. Here’s what happened, “My Blackberry died so I decided to convert to an iPhone. Didn’t really pay much attention to all the stuff on it yet. Unbeknownst to me I got the one with “Siri” who apparently listens to you, but I had no clue about that. So, I am driving along alone in my car, and since we are still new to town I wasn’t sure where I was going. I say (to myself, alone in the car) something like “Oh hell I don’t know if I should turn left here.” And suddenly this disembodied voice comes out of my purse and says, “Where are you trying to go, Nash?” I just about wrecked the car! Now Siri knows me to be a bad cusser. I was like “WTF” and probably yelled it out loud as I tried to save myself from crashing the car in total surprise. I am now waiting for Siri to lecture me about cussing her. I am not so sure I want a phone that is listening in (and probably watching) all the time. I am NOT taking it into the bedroom or bathroom with me, just in case!”

Personally, I need Siri to be my wingwoman. I need to take her out at night, point my iPhone at a cute guy, and have Siri reprimand me, “Heck no! He’s way too young for you!” Or when I’m trying to decide between a work event and happy hour with the girls, Siri can remind me, “RCG, there’s happy hour every night, and bartenders hate you because you order Dirty Virgin drinks, so GO TO THE WORK EVENT!” … man, Siri is harsh!

2. Why You Shouldn’t Fantasize About Your Trainer

Gym Girl has had a habit for many years which finally caught up with her this past week. Here’s the habit: She spots a very HOT trainer at her club, and then immediately buys a training package with him. Recently, she was on the treadmill next to the stretching area, when she spotted a new trainer who wasn’t working out a client, he was stretching out himself… in Frog pose.. see picture, then imagine a hot guy in short shorts! Now imagine what else you can see when a guy in short shorts is doing frog pose. Yup! Gym Girl didn’t know where to look. She was blushing and fighting back the giggles, yet, like a car accident, she couldn’t stop looking. A half hour later she’d signed up for a package with him (no pun intended..I swear!).

That’s when the trouble began! Gym Girl couldn’t get the image of Hot Trainer in Frog Pose out of her mind and continued to picture him in that pose… and various others. So when she met him for her first day of training, she was stumbling over her words and quite self conscious feeling as if he’d actually seen her naked. By the second time they trained together, she was feeling a little better until…

He finished the session and advised her to go stretch out. To which she responded, “Aren’t YOU going to stretch me out? My other trainers always did.” He gave her his Brad Pitt grin and readily agreed. After a few minutes of being stretched on the table, he told her to sit up straight, he stood behind her and told her to reach back and grab…

Gym Girl reached back and grabbed his ass with both hands and held on tight! As the seconds ticked by it dawned on her that she was grabbing his ass, then it dawned on her that this was not in fact one of her fantasies, then it dawned on her that she had not let him finish his sentence, but there was no way that sentence was going to end in.. ass!

She shrieked as she abruptly pulled her hands back to her lap. “I just grabbed your ass,” she said to him.

“That you did,” he answered.

“What did you tell me to grab?” she asked.

“I asked you to grab your own wrists behind my waist,” he answered.

“Okay, let’s try that again,” she offered, feeling completely mortified.

She did the stretch correctly, and now she can only imagine what’s in store for the next session.

3. A New Contender For The Glossary

I was hanging out with a cool group of new chicks the other night. It’s fun when you’re getting to know new girls over sushi and after an hour or so (and a few sakis) inhibitions disappear, and you reeeally get some insight into who they are. Saucy was cracking me up the whole night, but when she told the story about meeting her boyfriend, I knew this was a girl I could hang with! The sentence “The first time I met him, he gave me fire crotch” concerned me at first, because I’m trying to figure out which venereal disease she was referring to and why she continued to date this guy after he shared this burning gift with her.  But then I realized I just didn’t know her lingo yet (that’s why I give you gals a glossary so you can check in when I use a word you’ve never heard of). Apparently “fire crotch” is the sensation you get when you see a hot man that stays with you “burning” for hours, sometimes days, and possibly weeks, depending on how long it takes for the guy to ask you out.

Now, of course, I’m obsessed with the term. I’ve been using it in sentences all week to install it as a permanent fixture in my RCG vocabulary… unfortunately it hasn’t been used in its intended form as I haven’t been around any men who have given me fire crotch this past week… hmmm now that I see it in writing, it still looks like a venereal disease. Should it be added to the glossary? I’m still on the fence. Thoughts ladies? Is this a term we want to take on? Yes? No? Leave a comment and majority wins…

©2012

Sister and I were out for a night on the town and we were having fun! Sister was having extra fun because I introduced her to a very hot guy whom I’d only met once. The bar was loud and the introduction was made early.. around 9pm. It was pretty typical: me yelling, “Denim, this is Sister, Sister this is Denim.”

As the night progressed and Sister saw more to him than his good looks, she had to admit something BIG… she didn’t clearly get his name. So she asked, admitting that the bar was loud and she just wanted to clarify his name (because at this point she’d heard three variations of it and now even I was second guessing if I knew his name). He spelled it out for her.. literally. Now she could enjoy the next few hours of flirtation with the confidence that she knew exactly to whom she was speaking.

That said, let’s cut to 2am, as we are all leaving the bar. I patiently wait in the car as Denim asks Sister for her number. Of course with technology as it is, he is about to put it into his phone under her name… her name that she can’t help but notice has been programmed in as “extraordinary girl”

Hmmmmm. While very flattering, there was something fishy about the entry and Sister wasn’t about to let it go.

“You don’t know my name, do you?” Sister asked/confronted him.

“Of course I do!” He insisted.

The next three minutes were straight out of a Seinfeld episode and concluded with Denim opening my car door so I could quickly whisper her name to him which didn’t fool her for a second.

Now, this has not gotten in the way  of her interest in him, however the questions that she asked me on the way home still baffles us as logical females:

1. When she asked him to clarify his name for her, it opened the door for him to in turn ask her name. So why didn’t he?

2. As the night grew later and he knew that his interest had grown greater, why didn’t he ask someone in our circle what her name was?

I suppose any girl who would be so sensitive as to hold a grudge toward a guy for not getting her name right is not the kind of girl Denim would want anyway, but still…

Or maybe he just wanted to give me some good material since I haven’t blogged in a while.

Ironically a few nights later I found myself in the same position; talking to a good looking guy whom I’d been introduced to with no recollection of his name. Okay, the fact that he was good looking has absolutely nothing to do with my point, that point being…

Why is it so hard to remember names? Is it because they are one word? I say that because when someone tells me a story, I usually remember it. I assume it’s because of the detail that goes into the story which requires a level of concentration on the part of the listener.

Why is it that concentrating on someone’s name is so taken fore granted? I certainly don’t get terribly offended when people don’t remember my name, but that could be because I’m so bad with names. I’ve met many people who DO get very offended when their name is not remembered. I have an ex boyfriend who was blacklisted by a guy whom he’d met once years earlier and on their second run in, he politely asked the guy to remind him of his name.

Obviously that guy has serious issues, and my ex has done just fine for himself despite the attempted black list, but still!

I think my ex boss had the right idea.. just call EVERYBODY, Sexy! How can you get offended when someone says to you, “Hey, Sexy how are you?”

I’ll have to do a poll of names guys would like to be called:

1. Champ 2. Handsome 3. Tom Brady…

Or perhaps I could try to simply concentrate much harder…

©2012

The moral of the article is that you don’t have to wait around for a man to do things to feel sexy. I liked that theory, so here are some of the things I’ve been doing since sometime between Junior High and my 20′s…

1. Wear sexy lingerie even if no one’s going to see it.

CHECK, have always been a big believer in that one. I like going out knowing that the guys who are undressing me with their eyes are probably right on the money with what they’re imagining they would find.

On the flip side, we all have those worn out panties (you know the ones I’m talking about gals, the ones you claim you save for your “time of the month” but they’re just so comfortable you wear them anytime). Did you ever notice that when you do find yourself in that rare occasion of making out with a cute guy at a party that could lead to something more, you always seem to be wearing the worn out panties? It’s like you unconsciously put them on to protect you from going too far.. if you know what I mean. Kind of like intentionally not getting waxed so you know no guy is going “down there” if you accidentally get a little too tipsy, because you will not be known as the Bushwoman to all his friends. No matter how tipsy you get, you never forget when you’ve got a forest that needs deforestation. Am I right? Which leads me to…

2. Smooth is for you.  This was all about shaving your legs. Another reason why I think this article was really old because it didn’t address the Brazilian wax which would fall under the same category.

The point is, smooth shaven legs are nice to touch and just because you don’t have a man doesn’t mean you need to have legs that look like a man’s. So I followed Cosmo’s advice and I shave my legs… most of the time. Sometimes I kind of like the stubble when it gets to that point that it almost feels like velvet.

3. Take yourself on a date. Self explanitory.

I’ve been following this one for a long time as well. I usually take myself to the movies. I’ve become a cheaper date since I cut out sugar and caffeine. No more goobers and root beer.

The next piece of Cosmo advice was what got me into trouble this morning…

4. Vacuum in something sexy. I can’t remember, but I’m assuming there was a picture of a model in a French Maid’s uniform because that’s what always comes to mind for me. I seem to recall there being some explanation about men finding women very sexy when they do housework.

Anyway, I’ve never owned a French Maid’s uniform, but I’ve always gotten a kick out of following this tiny piece of advice. There were very few times in my life when I lived alone, but when I did, instead of wearing something sexy when I vacuumed, I just vacuumed naked. I know… something embarrassing was destined to happen, right?

Yet, it never did. And then I grew up and got a housekeeper, so I didn’t vacuum anymore. Until today. You know when you’re a guest in someone’s house and you want to leave it in better condition than you found it? At least that’s what my mother taught me.

Today, I had the opportunity to vacuum! And I did… naked. And I felt sexy.

What I didn’t know, was that the gated community that I was vacuuming in, has a company that’s been hired to manicure the lawns. They work on Monday mornings apparently. And thanks to Cosmo rule #2, three gleeful gardeners discovered, that “my lawn” was perfectly manicured… and if I must spell that out for you it means 3 guys were staring in the sliding glass door at the back of the house where I was vacuuming buck naked with a newly Brazilian waxed vajooge! Thank goodness it was vagazzled or they’d actually be able to identify me.

I don’t even know what it was that made me look out the back door!  Just a weird feeling. And when I saw them, and they saw that I saw them, they scrambled and I dropped to the floor (thank goodness I was on a rug)! I must have stayed completely still on that floor for an hour just to be sure they moved on. Then I wiggled on my belly to another room where I knew I’d be out of sight and ran to my guest room to get dressed!

No more Cosmo for me! It is a very very dangerous magazine for an impressionable romantic comedy girl like me!

©2011

Let me take you back…

If you’ve been following this blog, you know that I’ve recently been swept into the world of country music. Being the obsessive type of person that I am, I get immersed in that world, which means… line dancing.

Let me preface this by saying, “I can dance!” Now that I said that, there’s a difference between dancing to a song, and doing a choreographed dance to a song.

I went to a country bar the other night that had a corral dance floor as big as a roller rink. A song would come on and 100 people would sprint to the dance floor and do a line dance. It was like a flash mob. And every song had a different dance. How do these people remember so many? And how do they know which dance goes with which song?

I kept having different guys pull me to the dance floor claiming “this one’s easy.” Easy?!?! These are clearly the same guys who think riding a horse is easy. Tried that.. disaster! Story for another day.

Line dancing is not easy… for me. BUT watching these people who were SO good and having SO much fun, I was dying to jump in, but not wanting to embarrass myself.

So I left with a mission. I came home, googled the most popular line dances, looked them up on YouTube, and like Baby, danced in my room alone for hours. I even had my hand up in the air like she did and that’s not part of the dance. I was counting, I was saying words like rock step and grapevine out loud, and peeps… it wasn’t helping.

I need the inspiration of a hot Patrick Swayze-ish cowboy line-dancing teacher. Having a hot teacher makes learning necessary. I must learn if my teacher is hot!

I always pictured line dancing to be like the square dancing we did in 6th grade. I was soooo wrong! Forget about the girls, they are not important. The GUYS can freakin’ dance! They put their own spin on the Watermelon Crawl and the Earthquake. The young guys looked like a boyband… if InSync had line danced, this is what they would have looked like!

Okay, Baby AKA me is going back to YouTube to work on my moves. I figure if I get one or two dances down the rest will be easier to pick up.

Famous last words! Tune in to my next blog which will most likely be called MY TWO LEFT FEET

©2011

By the way, the book is for sale on this site if you didn’t notice. Yeehaw!

Or perhaps I’m intimidating and guys my age and older think that’s a bad thing and guys who are younger think it’s a good thing. Let me explain.

At the end of the night when he hadn’t yet asked for my number, but wanted to feel me out, he got really close and said, “I find you intimidating… in a good way. Do you know what I mean?”

I did know what he meant, but I didn’t say it to his face. What he meant was, I hadn’t given him reason to believe I was going to fall at his feet the way other girls must. By “intimidating” he really meant confident and elusive. And by “in a good way” he meant that he didn’t think I was in the bag and he likes a challenge.

This guy is more than a decade younger than me.  I’m not interested.  So there’s no challenge.. it’s just a NO. I am committed to looking for a relationship and that large of an age gap is not the start of one.  Besides, he doesn’t come with kids and I want a guy who comes with kids.

Even though I’ve had some pretty large age gaps, I had a big reality check last week.  I was at my book club meeting where I go monthly to meet chicks, and I met a really cool one. She just happened to be 14 years older than me. Beautiful, well dressed, likes to go out, which is fine because she’s a chick and therefore I have no interest in dating. The reality check was how despite her being beautiful and hip, she still seemed much older than me, and it made me wonder, how do I seem to these guys who are in there twenties?

Don’t answer that! I really don’t want to know. Granted many of the younger guys I’ve been with have told me how old they thought I was and they were always off by at least 8 years, but still. I mean Pierce Brosnan is 58 and he is frickin handsome… but I look at him and think he is too old to date (ignoring the fact that he’s married to make a point). Even when I was in my 20s and he was in his 40s and I met him through one of my jobs. He was so handsome, but still, in my opinion too old!

Back to The Princess Bride… I call him that because he told a really funny story about when he was a kid he would watch Princess Bride while “taking care of himself” playing and rewinding over and over again Buttercup’s line “Oh my sweet Westley.” That’s his name. I know, I don’t usually use names, but the story was hilarious, so I must give credit where credit is due.

Unfortunately my sweet Wesley, this Buttercup does not desire to be captured or saved by an adorable youngster. So alas, I bid you farewell.

©2011

Okay, let me refresh your memory. Remember back on May 23rd when I had Skinny Girl Margarita Tour Bus Envy? Well two things have come to fruition since then:

1. Wild for Wildtree launched their Gluten free line… yay!

2. And that “book” that I whimsically joked about having in my boutique has just become a REALITY! As in, will be ready for purchase before the end of this month!!!

I am beyond excited and can’t wait to share it with you. It’s my first fiction book, and was literally written because of the seed that was planted in my mind the night I wrote that blog entry.

Originally it was going to be a non-fiction self-help type book like Bethany’s and then I realized I needed far too much help to write a self-help book, so better to stick to what I know— imaginary romance. It’s a chick-lit book. If you’ve never heard of that genre, here’s the Wiki definition:

“Chick lit is genre fiction which addresses issues of modern womanhood, often humorously and lightheartedly. The genre sold well during the 1990s and 2000s, with chick lit titles topping bestseller lists and the creation of imprints devoted entirely to chick lit. Although it sometimes includes romantic elements, chick lit is generally not considered a direct subcategory of the romance novel genre, because the heroine’s relationship with her family or friends is often just as important as her romantic relationships.”

Just up my alley, right?

I have to thank my dear friend Kathy Hoffman who designed my book cover (which unbeknownst to me included the back and the spine– in other words she worked her ass off for me!) and digitized all of the artwork for the interior (I have no idea what that means, but she made my artwork look great and I know it was time consuming). Kathy, I can’t thank you enough! You are truly AMAZING!!!

It’s been SO hard to not share the whole writing process with you, but at least you understand why I haven’t been writing as frequently as I had in the past. I am dying to share the cover with you… but being the tease that I am, I’m going to make you wait just a little bit longer. Tomorrow the publisher will let me know the release date and you will be the first to know about it!

Okay… I’ll give you a taste.  The picture from this post is from the introduction. Don’t be afraid to take a sip it, there’s no alcohol in it. It’s a Dirty Virgin Martini…