Day 2: Return of the Mack

Why hello leggings, acid-wash denim, flannels, skinny belts, mini-skirts and Doc Martin boots. I don’t know what the fashion forecast looks like in other parts of the country but I’m pretty sure Los Shangeles has been bit by the 1990s bug. Who would have thought that high-waist mom jeans could come back in style and actually be sexy? That’s crazy you say? No, what’s crazy is actually lusting over a pair of ultra-long, light-colored Levi’s perfectly paired with a thin patent leather belt and matching pumps. It’s wild to think that the Kelly Kapowski look is back in. But hey I’ll take it if that means it’s now socially acceptable to use your boyfriend’s pliers when zipping up your jeans. Yet, I live in Los Shangeles…men have pliers? Tools…I thought that was a Mid-West thing? Don’t get me wrong we definitely have “tools” out here, which likewise are only good for screwing things in. Yet, we don’t get the luxury of keeping them tucked back in the dusty corner of our garages, only to be taken out to quickly fix something that you know is damn well beyond repair…the operative word being quickly ;) Maybe that’s my sign? If something breaks, it’s probably the universe’s way of telling me it’s time to go get something new. By “new” I mean shiny, untouched, looks fabulous on my body, always makes me feel great and has a 30-day return policy. For safety purposed of course, just in case I later find out that my 6’1-blonde-haired-blue-eyed purchase was a complete and utter rip-off! Never had that happen before…Shan Fran rule: if you’re going to take off the tags at least hold on to the receipt so you have something to bargain with.

Ha, but even I have to laugh at the absurdity of that. Not because it’s funny, but rather because I’ve learned that sometimes you just have to laugh to keep from crying. However, the real reason why I’ll never be able to find my perfect man at Nordstrom is actually due to my female super power. Most women have it too. It’s stronger than the lure of the Bobbi Brown make-up counter, the South Coast Savvy department and the Café’s mixed-berry salad matched with a cup of that to-die-for Roma Tomato and basil soup…COMBINED! I’m talking about the female super power that allows you to create the most outrageous justifications for men…and our feelings…okay, okay pretty much anything depending upon the moment. I love it when I catch myself telling these blatant lies too. I’m like I know I did not just say that “I found his receding hairline sexy?” Or that “I actually don’t mind Captain’s freight train of a snore. What’s more relaxing than eight hours of ear-bleeding noise?” Oh the brainwash caused by love. Too bad it’s never this funny at the time. Like I said though, this ability is impressive in its range of uses. “What do you mean ice cream doesn’t make you lose weight? Are you sure this is a size 8? I’m almost positive it’s a 3 and someone just used a Sharpie to fill in the other side of the number. It’s a pretty common offense you know…label graffiti??? I swear all of the teenagers are doing it these days. In any event, least these next 58 days will help curb my inner pathological liar; or as I like to call it, “reality reinvention.” I know I picked this up in Los Shangeles.

On a good note, I did make it to the gym this morning! Thank god too because I promised a friend that I’d help work tomorrow’s Grammy Awards red carpet. This involves basking in all of the glory that is Beyonce, Fergie, J.Lo and Carrie Underwood. Ooooh, I wonder if they’d be interested in my Gold Rush Girls try-out routine? “Hi judges my name is Shan Francisco and I hope you don’t mind but I brought a few of my closest friends to try out with me…don’t worry my girl B, Fergie Ferg, Jennie from the Block, and Carrie will just be dancing backup. I’m the one you want.” Then like clockwork, I’d make the team, Alison Krauss’ “When You Say Nothing At All,” would start to play (weird song choice I know but it has sentimental value). Captain would appear with a dozen roses, in a perfect world the keys to a brand new Range Rover and a guitar. I’m not sure why he’d have a guitar considering he can’t play but that’s really beside the point. But oh, how that song brings me back. We all have those certain tunes that never fail to make time stand still. When you remember exactly what you were doing, how you felt and why that person meant so much. It’s a definite out-of-body experience. Pretty similar to driving the streets of Los Shangeles when “California Love” comes on, actually. Instinctively you think it’s a good idea to bop your ultra-blonde covered head while flashing West side down Olympic in your four-door Honda sedan (It’s only happened once I swear).

Yet, if we’re really dishing some embarrassing dirt here nothing compares to the Miley Cyrus performance that I’m capable of. It’s perfectly normal for a 26-year-old to stay up to date with the very best of the Disney Channel thank you very much. It’s obvious that I’m not Miley though, because “I put my hands up, they’re playing my song,” and the butterflies rather than fly away hit me in the face like a ton of bricks. For no reason at all my mind B-lines it toward the thoughts of mine and Captain’s first kiss. Was it the Tupac/Miley combo? Couldn’t decide what to think so when all else fails drudge up depressing memories of Captain and I? Thanks imagination, you’ve always been so kind. Thoughts of our first kiss quickly lead to how I loved watching him on the football field, our senior prom and how amazing he was at taking care of me. Whatever I asked he did and I so miss that. It’s not likely but you may have picked up on the fact that I can on occasion of course, expect a lot. If the conversation were two-sided this is when I’d pause and let the other person so nicely disagree with me and say that I’m always a delight to be with. Oh stop, you’re too kind…keep going. But really, I’m going to hurl if I keep thinking about how sexy Captain looked in his truck--especially when he’d turn and flash me that oh-the-things-I-want-to-do-right-now smirk. I feel a Britney breakdown coming on. I’ll allow myself 10 more reminiscent seconds to think about how petite and protected I felt every time I’d rest my head against his chest and then I’m done! If I allow myself to think about his arms then we’ll be here all day.

In the mean time and from here on out I just gotta keep my goals high, my dreams big and my gym schedule as packed as Kim K.’s butt in a pair of skinny jeans! Oh and just so you know after yesterday’s dance practice, this morning’s work out and my four-hour mid-day spin/sauna session…I’ve dropped a pound! So on a final note, I must say…thanks for all of the support. I had no idea that public humiliation, belaboring my Captain woes and a teenage passion would be the cause of such motivation. But in any event, 49ers I’m coming for you!

Kisses!

Shan Francisco