So my last break up was pretty tough, except for the fact that I was fairly smart, and protected my heart and took it slow. Anyway, I was very mad at myself for being so foolish, because I got totally "worked" by this guy. Yes, I admit it *types harder while gritting teeth*. However, being the proactive, jilted and totally fed-up girl that I was, I contacted the most well known "bad boy" in America, the gorgeous and smart author of The Manual, Steve Santagati (yes, that's him on the cover).
The night I contacted Steve, I was licking my wounds and somehow ingested a bottle of wine all by myself... and I glanced over at his book on my cocktail table... and I realized that I needed to talk to Steve immediately. So, I emailed him and proceeded to tell him what a fool I felt like. Now realize, I'm completely drunk and emailing this totally hot, famous guy that I've never met before, who gets a thousand emails from chicks a week. I told him about how I let this guy totally play me and text me too much, and it all exploded in my face. I cried myself to sleep, then woke up the next morning to an email from Steve! And I thought, 'oh shiiiiit, what did I say?!! Oh my God, I have hate mail from Steve Santagati'. So I reluctantly opened this email and Steve had written back some wise and witty advice to me, and was funny and not mad at all. Whew.
His advice shall not be repeated here, as it is special to my heart, and it helps me keep this fantasy in my mind that Steve and I had a very personal encounter slash intimate moment. Hey, it's my email, get your own.
Anyway, I do so doubt myself sometimes when I shouldn't, and I temporarily had forgotten how brilliant I can be when I'm inebriated just enough. I read the email back that I had sent to him, and as sad as it was for me at the time, I had to admit, in the light of a new day, it was kind of funny. So, I had to keep it up, right? I couldn't email Steve back and say 'oh, I'm sorry, I was a little drunk last night when I wrote that'. That would be totally lame. So, we had a couple more emails back and forth, and *sigh*, I felt much better that I had America's smartest bad boy on my side. He had nothing to gain from emailing me back, so, it really did make me feel better.
If I ever meet Steve, I will kindly thank him. And Steve, if you ever read this (long shot, I know but I did tell him that I refer to his book material on this), I never got to thank you for your free advice, so thank you. You sewed a couple of stitches in this bad girl's torn heart, gave me some hope, and I'm back on top baby.
Side note here: Of course when I looked up the image for Steve Santagati's book for this post, guess who's picture popped right up there, in a picture, hanging out with Steve? Well Gerard Butler, of course! I told you! (See above post: Gerard Butler Is Stalking Me).