Week 18:  up 2.5 pounds (-17.5 pounds total)  BOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

Yup, that’s right ya’ll - this is the late night edition of HMD, hot off the presses.  Many things lined up to prevent me from posting this morning…only half of them had anything to do with alcohol (honest injun!).  But I’m here, I’m not queer (not that there’s anything wrong with that), and from the outcome of this morning’s weigh in, I sure wish I hadn’t had some of that beer.  Oy!

A minor bump…I shall recover.  Why?  Say it with me, everyone - I will because I will it.

Another reason why - because nothing tastes as good as a Hot Man feels! 

Speaking of the latter…I spent yesterday afternoon with some friends at the Abbot Kinney Festival in Venice Beach.  I am assuming that a memo was sent to every Hot Man in LA County instructing them to attend said fest, because MY GAWD they were everywhere!!!!  I was dumbstruck.  Blown away.  Thrown.  Simply thrown.  It has been a long time (night of 100 sailors notwithstanding) since I have been around so much Manificence all at once.  Seriously, you might think I’m exaggerating.  I’m not, I promise you!  Men of all ages, all races, both homegrown and international (honestly, I’ve met more Germans in the past month in Venice…what the eff is up with that?  Although I shouldn’t complain  - each one has been a dee-light!).  Hot Man overdrive!  My friends were shopping for art, but I couldn’t stop staring down the live sculptures, the Mansterpieces the Big Man Upstairs plunked down for my Manjoyment.   There I was, in the midst of it all, Icarus flying too close to the sun with wings of wax.  And they melted. And I fell.  Hard.  I couldn’t recover.  I spent the whole of the evening feeling off my game.  Not Hot enough.  Bad Leah, very bad!  This happens to me every once in a while and it makes me want to smack myself.  The Hotness of others ususally brings out the Hotness in me, the chatty, fun, flirty girl who is quick with a quip and a sly smile, who shakes what her Momma gave her and uses Talent and Ambition to the best of their abilities.  Not to brag, but I have snagged some serious Hotness in the past!  I have flown too close to the sun and escaped unscathed.  I am NOT afraid!

Usually.

What was so different about yesterday?  How did I manage to have the ear of one particularly fine gentleman specimen, only to engage him in some of THE MOST BORING CONVERSATION EVER?!?!  When I finally revealed that I used to do improv comedy for a living he honestly looked at me surprised and said, “You’re funny?”  AAAAGGGHHHH!!!  Leah, that is SUCH bad form!  I can usually rely on my mouth to save the day (insert your own dirty joke here, I’m not taking such easy bait), how did it fail me?  Very perplexing!  I hate to say it, it hurts me to admit - I guess I was intimidated.  And intimidated is SO NOT HOT!

To the particularly fine gentleman specimen that I bored to death yesterday evening - I apologize.  I was not myself.  Please remove all memory of the nervous, neurotic ninny that hijacked your evening and replace it instead with this…bright brown eyes, big curly hair, friendly smile, college educated with an uncanny ability to write entire blog entry around character from Greek mythology (with a Seinfeld nod to boot), engaging when sober AND drunk, one of the most loyal and trustworthy friends you will ever have…oh, and did I mention freakishly flexible?

(That last one usually gets ‘em.)

Hot Manspirations of the Week:  I am pissed at television right now.  We’re having a major fight.  Why?  Because every single show I like is on Thursday night at the exact same freaking time!!!!!!  I missed the premiere of Grey’s Anatomy because NOTHING trumps The Office.  Soon I will miss the last half hour of every Ugly Betty because NOTHING trumps The Office.  At least I got to watch last week’s episode long enough to make sure that Santos wasn’t dead.  Ya’ll - Santos is HOT!  He’s played by Kevin Alejandro and ya’ll - Kevin Alejandro is HOT!  I haven’t seen too much of him yet, from the looks of his IMDB page he’s done a bunch of episodic tv work, but I’m sure we’ll be seeing much more of him because ya’ll - he’s HOT!  (With my luck, he’ll guest-star on an episode of Grey’s that airs opposite The Office…damn!)

****This Just In!!  Breaking Hot Manspiration News*****  

Ya’ll know I’m a baseball fiend.  Love it to death.  Seeing as how I’m a Yankee fan, I generally consider October to be the start of the actual season.  Well, this October has already started with a bang.  The Colorado Rockies forced the San Diego Padres into a tie-breaking game today and WON the National League Wild-Card Race!  I’m excited for two reasons:  1) it looked like a helluva game, a 13 inning debacle that came down to a possible botched call that sports peeps will be breathlessly debating for much time to come (although I didn’t get to SEE any of the game - why the hell wasn’t this game on my tv?!!  who does a girl have to sleep with around here to see important baseball games?!) and 2) because Matt Holliday is HOT!  He plays left field for the Rockies and he’s seriously in the mix for NL MVP and he’s HOT!  I was an idiot not to include him in my Hotness All-Star Team.  Check out this pic as well.  He’s the HOT one to the left.  (Carlos Beltran, far right, also quite Hot.  But let’s not discuss the Mets right now…I’m not in the mood for such misery…)

Hot Man Diet Foe of the Week:  Aw, who the hell are we kidding.  It’s ME!  I’m my own foe.  My bad choices.  My bad habits.  Badness, badness everywhere, now let’s all take a drink (or twenty)!  

Hola people!  Her Hotness has just pulled herself out of bed and must quickly away to work, so today’s Weekly Speak will come at ya later this evening.  It will be an epic work of effing brilliance…you’d be crazy not to check it out!

Two things to tide you over:

1)  In spite of some serious life-stress hitting Her Hotness last week, there is GOOD news to report!

and…

2) 

(There’s more to come of this ‘un!!!)

 Have a wonderful Monday everyone!  GO YANKEES!!!!!!

Week 19:  down .5 pounds (-18 pounds total!)

Hello to all ya’ll out there in HMD land.  I hope this Monday finds you happy, healthy and Hot!  I myself am unable to eat due to nerves, as my Yanks are battling for their life as I write this.  I have turned the t.v. off to concentrate on the Hotness, but I apologize if my mind wanders a bit…

GO YANKEES!!!!!  FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, GO!!!!!

This is when commitment sucks.  When the going gets rough, when times are hard, when good teams go bad!  Ah, the good old days, when I had no commitment to anything or anyone.  I grew up in the heart of Penn State football mania, but that took no effect.  By all geographical rights I should be a Steelers or Phillies fan, but they neither of them were of any interest to me.  I went to college in Atlanta during the height of the Braves heyday, even had a freshman roomie who listened to games on the radio whilst doing her homework, and I remained untouched and uninvolved.  It was easy.  Life was simple. 

(I just turned the t.v. back on…I can’t stand watching and I can’t stand NOT watching!)

But here’s the rub - for as much as this SUCKS right now, for as much as I want to vomit and ring their effing necks and scream and shout, I WILL watch them until the end, be it today or Wednesday or two weeks from now.  Why?  Because with the bad comes the good, and the good is SO very good.  Because to remain untouched is to go against the core of human nature.  Because commitment oftentimes brings out the best in us - grit, determination, resolve, fortitude.  And a life lived without these things is a life not lived.  

Hmm…are we just talking about baseball here?  Could I possibly be commenting on the rest of my life?  Maybe I am…but that’s a whole ‘nother Oprah. 

(Besides, the score is 6 -1 Cleveland and I haven’t a lick of alcohol in the house with which to drown my sorrows…why God, why?!?!?)

And so…I sit.  I watch.  I clap.  I cry.  My hope remains strong, my fanity undiminished, my love unwavering, my stomach in KNOTS.  This is life, is it not?  Guts and glory.  Wins and losses.  Here we go Yankees, here we go.

Hot Manspiration of the Week:  Man, I need some SERIOUS Hotness right now!  A spot of Manificence to bring me some happiness in this dire hour.  A hearty, hearty thanks to my friend Val for bringing up Christian Bale.  I say ”bring up” but let’s be honest - it wasn’t nearly that polite.  She DEMANDED I include him.  She has been screaming his name since I started HMD.  Quite frankly, it has been cruel of me to ignore her for so long.  I mean, how could I NOT include him?!?  Christian Bale is unbelievably talented and undeniably good-looking…and don’t even get me STARTED on that body!  Yes, that was him all lathered up in this morning’s quickie entry (see below), and I have still two more pics of him to include right now and there are plenty of other RIDICULOUSLY HOT pictures of him that I haven’t included.  My Christian Bale cup runneth over, as he becomes the very first Hot Manspiration of the Week to receive such photographic fawning.  He is his own Trifecta of Hotness, and he comes at just the right time.  Thank you, Christian Bale.  Thank you for being here right when I needed you, thank you for being Hot right when I needed it, THANK YOU!!!

Hot Man Diet Foe of the Week:  The Cleveland Indians (yes, even you Grady Sizemore!).  Damn you and your strong starting pitching and your bugs and your good bullpen and your youth.  DAMN YOU!

*** A special note from Her Hotness ***

The game is over.  The Yankee season is over.  The Joe Torre era is over.  I am over…for now.  On my way to the 7-Eleven for a beer and something sweet.  Yeah, you heard me right - A BEER AND SOMETHING SWEET!  Yes, I know that they are just a team of highly paid men who have no idea who in the hell I am, and I’ve certainly lived through this in the past, and tomorrow is another day and yadda, yadda, yadda…but so help my God, right now I just need a beer and something sweet.  And then…I’ll move on…

Bye Joe!  I’ll miss you!

P.S.  THIS SUCKS!!!

Week 20: down .5 pounds (-18.5 pounds total!)

Hello HMD’ers!  Happy Monday to you all.  

I have had a most interesting week.  As ya’ll know, social activism (not active in the “let’s make the world a better place” sense, but in the verb-ular “let’s have one more round and chat with Hot Strangers” sense) has been Her Hotness’ forte of late.  It used to be that I was gripped by these claws of social butterflyerdom only once in a blue moon.  Apparently the moon is now permanently blue, for I am so oft out and about that my apartment misses me.  This has been an ongoing issue for some months now (see The Examination of a Foe), and my desire for the company of others continues unabated.

Most of the time, these social interactions are breezy and fun, delightfully random conversations with delightfully random people.  Occasionally, they can border on the ridiculous (I met a gent last weekend who was drunkenly and admiringly shoving his hands through my curls while simultaneously attempting to pick up my friend).  And every once in a while, very, very rarely, they can turn downright ugly.  This is where today’s story begins.

Him: tall, good looking, well-dressed, weary and stressed after a long day of work and some personal drama (mostly to do with money, of which he had plenty, a fact he drove home most passionately).  Me:  partaking of a post-headshot session cocktail with my photographer friend in our regular spot in Venice, bright and happy, feeling thatmuchcloser to getting these effing pics done (it has been a looong time coming…I’m a procrastinator by nature…add fear to that and you have a recipe for disaster!).  As I’m grabbing some drinks at the bar he approaches and strikes up a conversation.  I’m intrigued.  I extend an invitation to join us, and he accepts.  The three of us spend the better part of an hour chatting, and I find myself becoming even more intrigued, which is good for two reasons: 1) he’s black, the kind of man my mother would KILL for me to bring home because she is convinced that I don’t like black men WHICH IS SO NOT TRUE but it is what she believes, and yes, if you look at my Hot Manspirations past you may notice my weakness for white boys but whatever I am COMPLETELY an equal opportunity dater! and 2) I must admit, and yes this is such a BAD LEAH! thing I’m about to say but I am being completely honest with ya’ll - the thought of dating a man with a little bit of bank seemed REALLY nice…now before you judge let me just say that I am NOT a golddigger!  I usually end up dating men whose financial situation is as perilous and sad as mine own, so the prospect of someone taking me out to a nice dinner…well…don’t I deserve a nice dinner every once in a while?!!?

Anyhoo…

Things were going swimmingly well when…well, in the midst of our conversation (by this time my friend was involved in her own conversation with a Hot Man) the tall, good looking gentleman who happens to be black and the kind of man my mother would KILL for me to bring home, well, he drops the n-bomb.  You know…that word.  The word I will not put on HMD, because I don’t care for it.  The N-word.  Yes, he’s black and I’m black and so this was by no means a Michael Richards moment.  But I called him on it, jokingly (or so I thought!).  And he WENT OFF on me!!  Face changed, tone changed, voice changed, all turned from good to bad, from Hot to ugly!  In an instant he went from interesting and affable to condescending and belligerent.  The details of his argument are a whole ‘nother Oprah (email me at herhotness@hotmandiet.com if’n you really want the deets), but the problem is that he a) yelled at me!  Nobody puts Baby in a corner and NOBODY yells at Her Hotness! and b) flew off the handle before processing the fact that I was joking AND in spite of the fact that we were two of maybe five specks of color in that whole freaking place, so I probably would have agreed with some of his points had they been waged a tad more diplomatically! 

At the end of his mini-tirade we bitterly parted ways.  I saw him last night at the same bar and found him so unattractive it threw me a little…so to all of you who would criticize me for putting so much emphasis on the outsides of men - know that inside Hotness (or lack thereof) does indeed inform outside Hotness (or lack thereof). 

Note to all Hot Black Men:  Seriously guys, I DO like you!  I adore you!  My mother’s complaints aside, I would love nothing more than to meet you all and maybe hitch my wagon to one of your stars and have ten million of your babies!  This whole obsession I have with the Hot Brits is probably just a phase, one girl’s love for Jane Austen turned all askew and wreaking havoc…but then there is this man who is black AND British (and incredibly sexy and talented and who WILL be featured even more prominently on HMD the second I can find a quality pic that I can put on my site directly without being sued)…perhaps this is the man for me…the best of both worlds…sigh… 

Oh, and let me repeat again for the record - NOBODY yells at Her Hotness!

Hot Manspirations of the Week:  Bad boys, bad boys, what can a girl do to keep from falling for you?  In yet another attempt to beat a theme to within an inch of its life, I bring you two Hot Men who somehow manage to maintain their Hotness in spite of their less than stellar behavior.  Russell Crowe, Russell, Russell, Russell…you had me at LA Confidential.  I had no idea who in the hell you were, but I ended up having to see that movie twice because my first viewing was spent watching only you, mouth agape, heart pounding, eyes staring in disbelief at the newly found Hotness.  Sigh.  And then Gladiator - damn!  “Are you not entertained?!”  I was, I was, so VERY entertained!!  How could I not be?!?!  And then you started, I don’t know, beating peeps over the head with telephones and yelling at peeps for interrupting your long-ass acceptance speeches (of which you’ve made many - you’re undoubtedly talented!).  What the eff?  Keep your hands to yourself, Mr. Crowe, so that we may enjoy you to our heart’s desire.  And believe you me - our hearts desire!

Colin Farrell - you…man I don’t even know where to start.  You just might be a bit of a nutjob, eh?  Between the RAMPANT womanizing (a bit of womanizing I can condone, you are young and talented and Hot, but let’s take a clue from Mr. Clooney, please, and maybe try to tone things down a smidge), the drunken carousing, the unintelligible interviews, the SMOKING (again, Hot Man Diet is staunchly anti-smoking!), the baby mammas and the sex tapes - jeesh, you are pushing it, dude!  Do you want to stay Hot?  Do you?!?  ‘Cause I want you to stay Hot ’cause I think you’re just super smoking Hot!  (And Irish - my god you know how I feel about those accents from across the pond!  Pantydroppers!)  Here’s to hoping that you figure your shit out and soon - interviews like this certainly help.  You are, I suspect, much better than the sum of your bad boy lifestyle…prove me right, dammit!  

or A Tale of Two Octoberfests

Week 21:  down 5 pounds (-23.5 pounds total!)  Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap!!

Good morning, Hot Man Dieteers!  I’m so proud of myself for actually having this week’s post done at its proper time.  I am also well-rested and not hungover in the least, surprise, surprise!  My Sunday afternoon drinking buddy was mercifully out of town yesterday, so the liver and I took a much deserved respite.  Especially since Saturday night was so crazy…

Octoberfest #1 - Huntington Beach

You know how sometimes you meet someone and you’re not really attracted to them initially, but as the night goes on the flirtation heats up and the next thing you know you’re making out with said dude in the corner of the bar?  And in spite of the nooky, you’re still not really attracted to the guy, but he’s cool and interesting, mostly due to the fact that he is from East Germany and has crazy tattoos and a bit of a dark past that he tiptoes around in conversation, and when you mention that you’re planning on going to Munich for Oktoberfest 2008 he tells you to check out Huntington Beach for a sneak preview of good times to come, he says he goes every year, that it is much better than the other local celebration in Torrance because Huntington Beach actually has German beer on tap, and when it seems like the two of you have agreed to meet up at Octoberfest, when it seems like your random night might yield a second performance, when you get all jazzed at the thought of some Spaten and some smooching, when you make sure that you’re…umm…fully prepared for…umm..anything physical that might happen, when you’ve crossed all your t’s and lined your eyes, when you go out and find the perfect shirt to perfectly highlight Talent and Ambition, when you find yourself looking forward to spending a Saturday night in the OC, when your expectations have gone full tilt, it only stings that much more when this man, the unworthy man behind all this fuss, DOES NOT SHOW UP!  And in spite of it all, in spite of the lack of any real attraction, you feel horribly, terribly foolish!  All expectations come crumbling to the ground and you find yourself willingly behind the Orange Curtain on a Saturday night surrounded by a teeming mess of drunk idiots and four lovely friends who are trying to help you make the best of a bad situation but who have their work cut out for them because you are PISSED!  And so when you find out that there might be a different way to end the evening, a way to leave the OC behind without admitting defeat, with a new set of great expectations swirling around your head, you grab your car keys and GO! 

Octoberfest #2 - Torrance

You know how sometimes you meet someone that you’re really attracted to but you have no idea why and your friends don’t understand the attraction either and loudly make their feelings known but it doesn’t dissuade you, you’re still totally into this dude in spite of the very obvious lifestyle differences (and you know it doesn’t hurt that he looks like equal parts Scott Wolf and Tino Martinez, both of whom have totally done it for ya in days past) and the next thing you know you’re making out with said dude in the corner of the bar?  And your head keeps telling you that there is NO WAY this is gonna work, no way this is gonna go anywhere, and maybe that is okay with you and maybe it isn’t but you still want him bad, in spite of the ex-wife and kids (yes, oh dear god I can’t believe I am TELLING ya’ll this!), in spite of the big ass gas guzzler of a truck and the awful, awful Raiders football jersey, in spite of the disapproving friends…in spite of it all you still jump in your car and leave one Octoberfest only to drive thirty minutes to another one, to pay another admission fee and stand in line for another expensive beer, because you very much want to see him, this man that you are wildly attracted to in spite of it all, because his attentions can heal your wounded pride, because he seems nice and sweet and kind and there’s a chance he actually IS all three of those things, because if the choice is between going home alone or standing in a beer tent in the T-Ranch feeling up the muscled arms that lie beneath the awful, awful football jersey, well then clearly the arms have it, and because deep down inside the rabid Yankee fan in you completely applauds his penchant for awful, awful football jerseys. 

And then you realize a few things: 1) you’re a vicious snob when it comes to football jerseys, 2) this practice of playing one man off another, of allowing one man to hurt you and allowing another to heal you, is so antithetical to everything you stand for it MUST STOP ASAP, and 3) beer is excessively caloric.

And then you pray your mother doesn’t read this entry. 

Hot Manspiration of the Week:  Yet again, this week’s Hot Manspiration comes from one of my fave HMD’ers, T. in Seattle.  I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again - I will ALWAYS be indebted to T. for introducing me to the wonder that is Gerard Butler.  And now it seems that I shall be in even more debt, as this week’s Hot Manspiration is another T. discovery.  Hot Man Dieteers, meet Boris Kodjoe.  He’s a model-turned-actor with a budding resume and growing family (boo!).  He’s also UNREAL, he’s so stinking, smoking, effing HOT!!  Words fail me.  I cannot even…words fail me!!  What perfect timing, the appearance of this man this week, especially considering that Mr. Kodjoe is half German.  Sometimes I have a lot to say about my Hot Manspirations, but not today.  No…today I can only look.  And blush.  And smile.  And imagine.  And desire.  And desire.  And desire.  And desire…

HMD Foe of the Week:  Damn you, George Steinbrenner!  How could you?!  We don’t need to go into deets, you know what you did and I hope you regret it every minute of every day of the rest of your life!  Damn you and your miserly ways!  You’ve broken up the third most important family I’ve ever known (mine own being the first, with the Huxtables running a close second, natch).  You’re just not happy unless the Bronx is burning, are ya George?  I hate you!  I am verklempt, I am undone, I am so, so, so, so sad.  My heart is cleft in twain….summer will never be the same …

***** Coming This Week - Hot Man Diet Requests and Dedications - October *****