Rebecca A. Foster

Pretty sure this scene is hotter than an entire "romance" book. Call me unromantic, but a lot of what passes for romance in popular culture is bullsh*t. Just give me a sweet, clothed shower with Daniel Craig. It's enough.

My favorite kind of light bulb is the GE Soft Pink bulb; I had them in every lamp in my apartment in San Antonio, and it was lovely being bathed in a soft, flattering pale blush glow. I tried to make sure all my dates saw me near a lamp as often as possible. Side note: you know how in old movies when things get romantic, the light gets all soft and fuzzy? There should be a way for that to happen in real life too; it would be so helpful! I'd know exactly what was on his mind and I could gear up for it. (I hate surprises. Also, I am a dork and usually thinking about, oh, light bulbs and stuff. I miss the cues sometimes.)  Target in San Antonio carried pink bulbs and it was never a big deal to buy them, but they're non-existent everywhere I've checked here. Where did all the pink bulbs go? I found them online-- $60 for 12, plus shipping. Um, maybe not!  I kept checking and did find a cheaper price, phew! So, I have to have pink bulbs shipped in? Really, light bulbs? I have...

Okay, I haven't licked him, but I'm pretty sure I would love it. I think it's the eyes. And the hair. He reminds me of a quotation I once read: "It's unfortunate that women find rash men so appealing, but they do, because deep down every woman knows a man who won't kill for her is useless."  I have a habit of saying I want to lick people. And by "people" I mean "hot men." I don't mean it literally, it just means: "Mmmmm, tasty!" If I describe a guy as "I kinda wanted to lick him," i.e. my co-teacher and neighbor Andrew answering the door shirtless, I mean it as a compliment. (Picture: Actor Robert Pattinson) 

Jon Hamm from Mad Men  (a great show, watch it!). I want to pretend his middle name is "honeybaked" and eat him for dinner. And breakfast. Rawwr! A rugged man in a suit in NYC? Soooo my thing. 

I don't wear a watch. I just figure out in my head what time it is. I can even take a nap and tell myself to wake up at a certain time, and I do. But knowing what day I'm on? Sometimes takes a few tries. Days seem to sneak up on me and then fly right by. So an easily accessible calendar, especially at work, is a must-have*. As always, I had several options for the new year: Girls In Bikinis Should I get a calendar that forces me to stare at well-lit, well-toned and well-enhanced women all year as a way to motivate myself to eat fewer nachos and make my work-outs at the gym last just a bit longer? Maybe it could work. But really, using a bikini calendar as a realistic indicator of progress only works if I also have an air-brushing and lighting guy following me around all day. So, maybe not. (Side note: you know how in movies when the hero is about to seduce the heroine, the lighting turns all soft and flattering? Yeah, that should happen in real life too.) Kitten s an d Puppies ...