Table for Two, Please

You know those lists we all make. . . questions we need answers to before we decide if someone we are interested in will make the "cut." Okay, maybe you all don't have these lists, but I do. Questions like "what's your favorite ice cream flavor?" "if you could have any super power, what would it be and why?" "do you fold the toilet paper with the extra hanging over the roll or below it or, do you play it cool and have a nice basket of T.P. next to your toilet?" You know, the really important things one must know about a significant other. I always have many more questions of this caliber of importance, but there is a particular one I am very interested in knowing. . . because I am a naturally curious person: "if you could have dinner with anyone, alive or passed, who would it be and why?"
I think it is a fun, interesting question and will often lead to other conversation topics and has the potential for revealing more about their personalities than what they are actually saying to you. In thinking about this particular question I have decided I will answer it for you. . . but I will answer it by process of trial and error. Let's go.

An initial response would clearly be the always nerd-chic John Krasinski. I have admired him from a far for many a moon. . . but what sealed the deal on his sex symbol status was when he appeared as love sick best friend Ethan in "Something Borrowed." There really is nothing quite like a man who can sport low slung, tight in the ass, blue jeans and a lovable smile to get a bookworm's heart a pumpin'. That being said, John would not be my final choice for dinner date because of the following reasons: a). I am not in any way, shape, or form as scandalously smokin' hot as his wife, Emily Blunt. b). I would surely be carted off by some form of body guard/police officer/great protector of John seriously sexy Krasinski because I would just have to know whether he was of the boxer or brief wearing family. c). I am stupendously positive that in my great, amorous, not unhealthy at all, devotion to him I would surely bring the art of blubbering to an unparalleled height.

Another quick to name choice would be Natalie Portman. She is stylish, beautiful, and brilliant on screen, but she's also extremely intelligent and trained as a ballerina for Black Swan, I don't think I need to give you many more reasons as to why she would be an obvious choice. I could imagine us meeting at a very hip, but not mainstream, coffee shop that boasts their delicious soy and chai drinks. We would meet at a quiet table near the back of an outdoor patio. . . there would be umbrellas over the tables with different floral designs and with each purchase of a beverage one receives a small square chocolate. I am sure that conversation would be both eventful and stimulating and give me an insider's look on this well known woman's life and as much as I thoroughly enjoy this scene in my head, she will not end up as my final choice. . . here are a couple reasons: a). the bitch is skinny, beautiful, but skinny and I am. . . well, not. So there are strong chances I would order extra beverages just to receive the free chocolates and then feel like a complete lard as she would daintily nibble on a small corner of her square of chocolate, only to announce moments later she was "totally stuffed." b). She trained as a ballerina for Black Swan. I am not too proud to admit that, at 24, I still maintain glorious, fairy-tale like dreams in which I will dance in a beautifully created, lace tu-tu, center stage with toe shoes on, tiara and all. I fear that a meeting with the ever graceful Natalie Portman would bring a crashing reality check down on my childhood aspirations.

Anyone who knows me well knows that I have a strong infatuation with Marilyn Monroe. She was a bad ass lady, a total fox, and she got to swap spit with some good looking guys (what up, Frank Sinatra?) I think we would probably skip the meal, go straight to the bottles of wine, and talk about all the important things in life: lipstick, perfume, and what braziers make your girls say 'bonjour' the right boys. Although this would most clearly be the best girls night in existence, I fear Marilyn would not be my final choice, either. . . because: a). She was a blonde. . . I take that back. . . she was the blonde. No one rocked blonde like she did before her time and no one has yet to rock it like her since. I have an inferiority complex around blondes. They, apparently, have more fun, they tend to catch a fella's attention above any other hair color, and. . . well, I am just insecure. b). She's friggin Marilyn MONROE. c). My mother was named after Marilyn. As you all know, my mother is the cat's meow, the dog's tuxedo, the SHIZ. If I were to meet Ms. Monroe and realize she and my mother have nothing in common save their name, I don't believe I could handle it. Because, as far as I'm concerned, my mom is the best Marilyn around. . . so I'll just keep each of these lovelies on their separate, albeit high, pedestals.

As another male option, I would likely pick John Mayer as a gut reaction. Now, bear with me here. . . he is beautiful, his voice makes my knees shake, and any man who can play a guitar like that will jump right to the front of the line of what might make Stephi lose her shit and flash said sexy crooner. But, alas, Mr. Mayer. . . you will not have the pleasure of making my acquaintance. Here's why: a). That picture of you in People magazine in the neon green unitard that cupped your junk? So. Not. Sexy. b). I thoroughly maintain you are a giant dickwad, douchehound, son-of-a-bitch. Why did you say those things about Jessica and Jennifer in Playboy, huh? Who talks smack about Jennifer Aniston?! And Taylor Swift. Really, dude? She's an infant. . . why'd you have to go and mess her up (but kudos to T.Swift for rocking that song, "Dear John.") c). Because you are potentially the douchiest of douches, I would very much take pleasure in making you sing for me (acoustic, of course) my favorite song of yours, then proceed to throw a bow at your face and knee you in your genals. . . and really? I enjoy your voice far too much to risk you losing a testicle and somehow altering that. (I realize medically this may have no effect on his voice. . . but I think you see where I'm going with it, anyway.)

Now, as I am sure I have you all on the very edge of your seats, I will finally reveal to you who I would choose for my dinner partner for one night. Ready? Okay. . . my grandma Arlene.
For those of you who do not know, that is my mommy's mommy. Aside from never having met this glorious woman, there are various other reasons I would pick her above anyone else: a). I desperately wish I had anecdotes of when my mom was little. I know that Nana (that's what I would've called her) would have a ton of stories for me. b). My Nana used to make my mom's clothing. . . so I would've have handmade outfits, possibly formal dresses, and maybe someday a wedding dress that was crafted, in same way, by my grandmother's hands. c). She was elegant, sophisticated, and totally loving. I strongly believe she was exactly who my mom is. . . and who wouldn't want two of those people in their life? d) She would've looked at me and believed in everything I believe in, she would've been at all of the football and basketball games I cheered at, she would've ordered extra buttons, wallets, and 8x10 photographs to decorate her home with, she would've taught me a few things mom may have forgotten and we would've talked on the phone everyday. e). She's my history. And everyday since I've learned her name, I've missed her. A dinner with her would be like coming home. A dinner with her would never be enough time, but at least I would be able to memorize the lines in her face, the smell of her skin, the feeling her smile would cause to my heart.

So here's the deal. . . my favorite ice cream flavor? Mint chocolate chip. My choice super power? To fly. . . because it would bring me closer to God. My toilet paper situation? In a basket, because I'm far too lazy to replace the rolls on the wall. My dinner partner? My Nana. What does this say about me? Even through all the sarcasm, the fun, the knowledge about who was in what film, who wrote what book, and who dated whom in Hollywood- none of this really matters or says anything about the kind of girl I am, if you don't know my family. . . 'cause they're my roots, my beginning and ending, my motivation, my questions, but most importantly, my family. . . well they're my answers, above all- they are the answers to all the most important inquiries.


Who would you take to dinner, if you had your pick?

-Stephi D.