Thursday, August 16, 2012

The Color Me Badd Trump Card (A BlogHer Recap of Sorts)

I'm not exactly sure how the conversation started. I guess it came from the conversation my neighbor and I were having about my recent trip to NY and BlogHer.


I told her all about the Mouthy Housewives party,

With the @MouthyHousewife crew, @MarinkaNYC, @WendiAarons & @mamabirddiaries

about my overindulgence at Sparklecorn,

with the FAB @HipMamaB

and about my fabulous roommates.

@mandy_fish, @lemmonex & @michonmichon
I told her about how there were so many people, about how they were giving away cock rings, and about how my roommates were kind of horrified to learn that I crack my knuckles in my sleep.

I told my neighbor these anecdotes while we sat in the air conditioned dining room while the children ran around in the backyard turning apple red from the 100 degree Texas heat.

(Whatever. I put a bowl of water out for them.)

I think I then mentioned how President Obama addressed us via satellite in NYC and how the entire room went into SUPERSQUEE FANGIRL MODE.



And then I probably namedropped Martha Stewart and Katie Couric, who were speakers at the conference. I even convinced her that I did, in fact, spot Julianne Moore on the streets of Greenwich Village while my roommates and I rode around the city on a double-decker tour bus that came terrifyingly close to every streetlight the city had to offer.


And it was probably around this time that my lovely neighbor got sick of listening to me go ON AND ON about myself and bloggers and dildos and book deals that she kind of ran with the Famous People theme we had going on. We talked about other famous people we'd met. She drew a blank for a moment while I rambled on about Dave Annable during our college days at SUNY Plattsburgh.

Then she remembered something.

Her: No, wait! I met that guy from Color Me Badd, once. Does that count?

Me: [JAW TO FLOOR.] Which one?

Her: The black guy. I met him when I was just hanging at a friend's house one day, and he was there too...with his daughter I think.

Me: Dude. Color Me Badd?

You guys, Color Me Badd's album was, like, the first one I'd ever owned as a tween. (Obviously my mother didn't pay too much attention to the lyrics. Ahem.) Half of my wardrobe was color-blocked in homage to those four, horrifically styled entertainers. I was seething with jealously. SEETHING.

Me: But...like, was it here? Or back when you were younger?

Her: No, it was here in Fort Worth...maybe a couple of years ago.

Me: [Jaw returns to floor.]

We googled him and verified the story. KEVIN THORNTON.



That was him. Immediately my mind was racing with ideas for how I could recreate such a scenario, except insert my fangirl self into the storyline. He lives IN TOWN! It's entirely possible. We know his name! Maybe he's on FourSquare. He kind of looks the same! I could post flyers?

My neighbor went on about how she chatted with him briefly, but resisted taking a picture.

(!!!!) (???)

I, on the other hand, was deep in reverie.


And the next morning when I woke up, that night's dream came immediately to mind. It was me. And Kevin.  Ahem. (Well, I ASSUME it was Kevin. I can't remember seeing a face; I just remember a six pack. Hell. It could've been Paul Ryan Gosling.)

Anyway. Kevin KT Thornton, you guys. Just like that, my celeb sightings (and, let's be honest here, ALL OF BLOGHER) were rendered meaningless.