To be honest, I didn’t give a flying flip about Phillip Phillips before I saw him live as John Mayer’s opening act for the Born and Raised tour (which I saw three times).
Before I saw him the first time in July, my mom was the one swooning,”Aw, I wish I was going to the concert!” she told me. “If you see Phillip Phillips, tell him I voted for him on American Idol!”
Well, I didn’t get the chance to tell him. Instead, I got drunk and had way too much fun dancing to his Dave-Matthews-esque voice sing, “Get Up, Get Down.”
For Christmas, my mom and I bought each other his album, The World From the Side of the Moon, and it’s pretty much on repeat in my Jeep. I’m obsessed.
As with most of my musician crushes, this is not one based on looks alone. Let’s face facts, Mr. Phillips looks kind of like a dork, and his name is pretty stupid.
When my friend Kelly and I saw Mayer and Phillips in New Orleans in January, we got to talking about his peculiar name.
“Do you think that’s really his name?” she asked me.
I said what I say in every time of uncertainty.
“Let’s Google it.”
We were instantly educated—yep, that’s his real name, and actually, he’s a “Jr.,” so there’s more than one dude with that name running around.
So, his name is uncool, and the fact that his last name is the same as mine might mean we are related on some level, which is scary, but let’s not go there.
Phillip is from Georgia, which means he’s got a sexy southern accent. What’s even hotter? He’s like 23 years old, and is already beating me in the success bracket—drool worthy in my book.
So, there you have it. Another celeb crush for the books. And just to bring it on home, I took a video of him singing Michael Jackson’s, “Thriller,” at The New Orleans Area. Enjoy!
“Tell me a story long and true, We aren’t what we say, We are what we do, Just pieces of a puzzle to find where we stand just confused, So you are the moon that pulls me through the night.”—Phillip Phillips, Tell Me A Story
If the title didn’t sell you on this recipe, I’m about to.
In college, I dated a guy who I fell in love with pretty quick. I remember the first time I saw him—as I was handing in an application at American Eagle—I felt that spark.
He was cuuuuuuute. And he looked even better in a baseball hat. I have always loved a man in a baseball hat.
After an interview and some group training sessions, I got the job. He was my boss. It was a long shot, and I wasn’t even sure dating him would be a good idea, but it made going to work a little more with my time.
But, just a few short weeks into my job, he texted me one Sunday evening, saying he had some Blackbox if I wanted to come over. I didn’t even know what that was, but I didn’t care, and I jumped into my car, taking a short cruise over to Olive Street.
That night, we sipped on wine (the oh-so-classy) Blackbox, and watched a movie, listened to music, and talked into the early hours of Monday. We kissed, and I was hooked.
After that night, we dated for only a few months, but in that short time, cooking became something we often did together. And one Sunday morning, he made me French toast, which I have always loved.
If you don’t have a man to make you French toast, have no fear (his “secret” ingredient was just vanilla, so it was really nothing special), because this one is for the single ladies. And frankly, there’s not much that makes me happier than cooking breakfast for myself, and climbing back in bed before eating it off a tray…no seriously, this really happens.
Now, I can’t have it now, because I’m still 100% Paleo, but I did make this amazing recipe from Self Magazine back in the spring, and it is delicious…and very easy.
- 1 cup cornflake crumbs
- 1 tablespoon toasted sliced almonds
- 1/2 cup egg whites, or egg substitute
- 1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
- 4 slices cinnamon raisin bread
- 1/4 cup mashed banana
- Strawberries & blueberries (optional)
Heat griddle over medium-high heat. Combine cornflake crumbs and almonds in a bowl. Combine egg whites, vanilla extract and cinnamon in another bowl. Dip 1 slice bread in egg batter, then coat on both sides with cornflake crust; repeat with remaining bread slices. Spread mashed banana on 1 side of 2 pieces of crusted bread; top with remaining 2 bread slices to make 2 sandwiches. Cook sandwiches on griddle until golden brown, 2 minutes per side. Cut in half and serve with fresh berries, if desired.
Facts: 321 calories per sandwich, 5 g fat (1 g saturated), 54 g carbs, 4 g fiber, 14 g protein
If I’m going to be honest with you (and there’s a lot of honesty on this blog), then I have to tell you that it’s been a long, long time since I’ve been on a first date.
So, maybe I shouldn’t be writing this. However, if there are two things I’m good at, it’s predicting my total at the grocery store and first impressions.
I’m really good at first dates and interviews.
The last real first date I had was two years ago; almost to the day. It was with a man I’d met just the night before. I was coming out of a nasty breakup and was incredibly nervous. But, I thought, what do I have to lose? So I went, and I had an amazing time—delicious food, tasty wine, dancing, conversation…
When it comes to first dates, there’s one of two philosophies you can take: 1., is the Scarlett O’Hara/Patti Stanger method of being the frail, 2-drink maximum, waif of a woman, or 2. is the Leandra Medine/Holly A. Phillips way of slapping that guy in the face with a big taste of YOU and seeing what comes of it.
…Well, sort of. Let me explain.
- Wear what you want. A first date is an event that often involves a long moment of standing in your closet thinking you have nothing to wear. The truth is, wear an outfit that makes you feel confident and sexy. You don’t want to be pulling at an itchy blouse all night, or complaining about your stripper heels.
- Keep it light. I’ve never been a fan of the whole, “Things you shouldn’t talk about on a first date,” because sometimes politics come up, or whatever. I say, keep it light, until you want to get deep. If it goes there, and you’re cool with it, then fuck Cosmo magazine and flex some intellectual muscle.
- Do you. A first date does warrant a good impression, but it doesn’t mean change yourself. Stay you. He asked YOU on the date, so that means, keep your standards, keep your comfort level, etc. If you want to meet him for the date, meet him. Want to have a cocktail? Do it.
- The Clutch Rule. It’s okay to bring a (sequined) clutch on a date; it’s not okay to bring a set of checked luggage, and by that I mean—no baggage. I don’t want to go back on my “Keep it Light” rule, but if it’s possible, don’t talk about an ex on a first date. There’s no getting around it, you sound desperate.
- The deats. Pay attention to the small details—say thank you, reach over and unlock his car door (provided he opens yours), don’t spend all night on your phone, smile. The little moves go a long way.
- Have fun. I hate admitting this, but as women, we often get to just sit back and have fun on dates. The man has to plan it, pick us up, and pay for it…we just look pretty (I hear the feminists). In all seriousness, I was chatting with my best girlfriend the other day, reminiscing on dates we went on in high school. And while I don’t want to say those were the good ole days, I really did have some fun. It was carefree, and overall pretty innocent—this is what we need to get back to.
So, got a date? Good luck…and let me know how it goes.