Interesting site of the week...

I'm slightly skeeved out by this web site but my fiancee heard about it on NPR this morning and I thought I'd share.

Property Room is a police auction site. Things that they've confiscated from "alleged"(see how legally savvy I am?) criminals are posted on this site and you can bid on them.

Why does it skeeve me out? Because I just know that I'd buy a ring hiding a stolen diamond or map to 300 kilos of coke or secret formula that the "criminals" would come after me for. I can't take that risk, people. I have so much to live for.

Oh sure, I know what you're thinking. "Girl, you read too many cheesy airport novels." Well you're right but things happen to me that just don't happen to other people. And I can't take that chance.

But you...you should TOTALLY buy something pretty and tell me all about it.

Long awaited post...

OMG ya'll. How is it almost January? Seriously. Because I'm fairly certain it was January like, I don't know, four days ago. My last New Years hangover feels like just yesterday and already it's time to prepare for the next one. (read: stockpile Gatorade, dump the Advil into a candy dish, and have McDonald's delivery service on speed dial)

I love the holidays. I love Christmas shopping and decorations, wrapping presents, singing carols, stuffing my face with turkey, and temporarily cold weather. There's just one thing the holidays bring that I don't love. And that's the weird vortex that sucks away all your free time. I know I'm popular but sweet lord I'm not THAT popular. And yet with all the holiday preparations, work commitments, family commitments, travel planning and whatnot I haven't even been able to pick up my wedding dress which has been ready since Wednesday. MY WEDDING DRESS, PEOPLE! This is serious.

I mean sure I also haven't picked up my dry cleaning or dropped off my new eye glass prescription. But having my hot pink sweater hanging in the closet and being able to see aren't NEARLY as important as the friggin' dress to end all dresses.

Alright, alright. I'm not THAT busy. I have spent the past 30 minutes YouTube-ing videos like this one:



But still.

So I apologize for not writing in awhile. I've been busy buying, serving and drinking enough wine to overflow the Hoover Dam and wrapping gifts 'til the paper cuts overtake my tiny fingers. And you know what? I can't wait to do it again! So until next time please accept the following fun new blogs as my holiday gift to you:

Cute Things Falling Asleep

and my sister's new Mommy Blog, The Shelfer Show. (it's new so give her some time to get with the photo/video upload program...and do pass along to your FWBs...friends with babies.)

Happy holidays dear readers! And a happy new year!

YES WE CAN!

Sweet fancy Jesus we did it! Okay HE did it but I definitely sent positive "get yourself elected" vibes, didn't you? (at a minimum there were multiple Facebook status messages extoling his virtues and several snarky digs at Sarah Palin who is no doubt at this very moment taking out her anger on the equally folksy, snow-mobiling Todd)

Words can't express how I feel today. But music can:



As a child I remember watching the Cosby Show and feeling like maybe, just maybe, looking different or talking different didn't matter so much. Like the Huxtables, my family had five children (including one GORGEOUS little minx named Denise, thank you very much). And like Cliff and the gang we were all up in each other's business all the time. You have to understand, before the Cosby Show there was nothing on TV that even remotely captured the diversity of my tiny world in a corner of Miami. The Love Boat, Fantasy Island, Dallas...all fantastic, just not so good on the diversity thing...though Isaac the bartender WAS pretty fantastic...remember the finger guns?



I'll get off my soapbox but let me just say that as a woman and as a Latina, last night was a moment in history I will never forget. (much like the time Britney shaved her head and attacked the paparazzi with an umbrella. I KID, I KID!)

There's a change a'coming, readers. And we can choose to get on the train or watch as it leaves us in the dust. All aboard!

Web site of the week!

Thanks to Robin for this one! Click on everything and make sure your sound is up! It's a good time, you betcha!

http://palinaspresident.com/

Tuesday Happy Boost...

Harvey Korman can't keep it together...can you?



I wish I had this much fun at the dentist.

D.E.S. strikes again...

I'm not a huge Jennifer Hudson fan. For some reason she strikes me as being kind of a pain in the ass. Is it just me?

I will give her this, the girl can SING. She's got a set of lungs on her and there's no telling what I would do to have half of her talent. (rip tags off mattresses, drive over the speed limit, sneak a refill at Quiznos, etc.) And that's why I was a bit surprised to see this performance on Dancing With the Stars:



Her voice is amazing, loved the dress, the shoes were fierce...but the curtains didn't match the drapes. And by that I of course mean that her dead eyes don't match her voice. (perverts...what'd you think I meant?) Maybe she's just mesmerized by the sparkly bits hanging from Julianne's female parts. Or maybe she's doing mathematical calculations and trying to figure out the odds of Julianne falling off the judges' desk (OMG girl, no...get off that thing!). Or maybe her internal monologue was trying to decide whether it's at all creepy that a brother and sister are dancing like that. (I decided no...well maybe except for a few parts)

Whatever it is, it's creeping me out. And I want it to stop.

Sunday Night Football Promos...and the Dead Eye

A few weeks ago I commented on Kim Kardashian's dead eyes on Dancing With the Stars. I'm afraid that D.E.S., dead eye syndrom, is spreading like wild fire and it's infected the otherwise lovely Faith Hill.

Oh Faith, no. First let me say that I love Faith Hill - she's beautiful, she seems sweet, her husband ROCKS, she's truly talented. Love it all. Well, not ALL. See Faith recently filmed the intro to Sunday Night Football (yay! SNF!) but I ain't buying.



You can't talk about pad-crunching, helmet-bashing, tough gridiron football and look like you're reading off your grocery list! You need a little attitude! Or at the very least, a little interest! See, Pink did this spot last year and it was SO much better:



Pink GETS IT, MAN. She's a little angry, a little butch...lots of leg kicking and fist pumping. I'm almost waiting for her to try to bite the camera or punch the cameraman. And I like it. But Faith...Faith just looks all Stepford Wifey and the spot makes me feel like she maybe lost a bet about what was actually happening under Tim McGraw's cowboy hat and was forced into this gig.

Maybe next time I'll just watch it with my eyes closed.

It's Happy Song Time!

Here's a little something to get your Thursday off to a good start:



David Cassidy was really one groovy cat, no? Meow!

Blog-a-rific!

It seems that I have inadvertently offended someone with my post about Crochet Girl and her web weaving talents. (angry comment...SWEET!) I assure you that was not my intention. I am a HUGE fan of hobbies and of people who can create things with their own two hands. (it would probably take me 100 years and dozens of failed attempts to crochet one pot holder, much less some of the more intricate fashions that Crochet Girl is rocking).

So forgive me, sensitive reader. Keep on crocheting, Crochet Girl. Crochet like the wind. Move those needles (hooks? tongs? rubber mitts? I have no idea what one actually USES to crochet) like they've never moved before. I promise...no more gentle teasing.

As for the blogger at Try Again Please, I can offer no such promise.

Look, I was a surly teen once. (like eleventy billion years ago) But I wasn't a surly, GIANT DOOBIE SMOKING, white zin guzzling teen, thank you very much. Someone needs to regulate here. They all need a good hair brushing, a curfew, and a visit to the Maury show, including "My teen's out of control!" boot camp with stereotypical pitbull, ex-marine drill sergeant who has a tough exterior but a heart of gold...kind of like an M&M...mmmm, M&Ms....oops, sorry. Got distracted.

Where was I? Oh yes.

And why is it that surly teens are always attracted to dark staircases where they can perch, looking uninterested and angst-ridden and cool? Last question - why all the flicking off of the camera? Are you angry because you know that in just a few short years you'll be working the counter at France's version of Blockbuster and wondering how to get your "music" "career" back on track?

Buck up, little campers. Blockbuster employees are people, too. Oui, oui.

A little boost of HAPPY...

It's Wednesday and I could use a little pick me up. How 'bout you? Here's a little something that always makes my day:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kxz_JBuyF4I

New Blog!

Okay - it's no longer a Blog of the Week...I need a new catchy title but until I can think of one you'll just have to live with New Blog! What do you want from me, people?!? My creativity only extends so far. I'll tell you where it doesn't extend...crochet.

And that leads to today's fun blog! It's a bird, it's a plane, no...it's:

C*R*O*C*H*E*T G*I*R*L

And yes, it's in Spanish but forget the text my gringo friends. Check out the pictures - soak in the inspiration. Glow in the dark yarn? Just in time for a Halloween poncho! Metallic yarn shaped into an ill fitting vest? You betcha!

Kind of makes you want to run out to Michael's doesn't it?



No, not really.

The Sexiest Woman of the Year is NOT Me...

I think it's great that Halle Berry has been named Esquire's Sexiest Woman of the Year. I mean look, she's hot with make-up or without make-up:



She's 42 years old. She just had a baby for the love of Pete. I mean, GOOD FOR HER!

And although she was very gracious in her acceptance ("I don't know exactly what it means, but being 42 and having just had a baby, I think I'll take it.") I couldn't help but laugh and roll my eyes at her follow-up remark:

"I share this title with every woman, because every woman is a nominee for it at any moment."

Really? Really, Halle? Because I think not. I have a healthy self image but I will tell you this: I am most certainly NOT a nominee for sexiest woman of the year at "any moment." Ask the fiancee...I'm especially not nominee material at 7am, sporting morning breath and hair that won't stay down in the front giving me an accidental Ed Grimley kind of vibe.



And I'm most certainly not nominee material when I'm, say, suffering from raging PMS and have one foot in the ice cream aisle at Ralph's, the other on the one-way street to Bitch City. I am also not nominee material when I'm working out (red and sweating like a farm animal), sleeping (I'm a mouth breather...hot), eating (I can't eat without spilling on myself) or watching football (I yell at the TV and curse like a sailor).

So thanks but no thanks, Halle. I appreciate the kumbaya inclusiveness of your words, but let's get real. I'll just have to settle for Second Sexiest Woman of the Year. It's cool.

Blog of the week...

Each week I scour the interwebs to bring you the finest in bloggery. (if bloggery isn't already a word it darn well should be)

This week I'd like to introduce you to someone: Moochie. Moochie is a cat who travels the country in an RV with her owners, retirees Fran and Bob. Moochie documents all the exciting things and places she sees. It's quite terrific, really. Like a little trip into the Mylanta-coated world of AARP members.

Enjoy!

Travels With Moochie

Denise + Kenny Rogers = True Love

Oh no, ya'll. I experienced an ALMOST deal breaker this weekend. Seriously...it was almost time to call off the wedding. What could be so egredious that it would cause me to reconsider spending the rest of my life with the man I love?

Simple.

My fiancee thinks Kenny Rogers is cheesy and NOT one of the greatest singer/songwriter/story tellers in recent music history.

Um, WHAT?! I beg to differ...I beg to differ BIG TIME. How can you say that? How can you even THINK that? Have you even HEARD The Gambler?



You know who doesn't like Kenny Rogers? Terrorists. And communists. And people who don't love America...or puppies and rainbows.

Hmmm, I guess I'll just have to ask myself what I always do in these sticky situations: what would Kenny do?



Ah yes. So right, Kenny. As usual...so right.

My musical weekend...

I had quite the musical weekend. Friday night I went to see a great band play at Hotel Cafe, a super hipster live music venue in Hollywood. For the record, I am not a super hipster but thankfully they let me in the door even though I wasn't wearing black skinny jeans and/or a mullet.

If you haven't heard Stephen Kellogg and The Sixers, please download some of their tunes immediately. Seriously. They're THAT GOOD. Plus, I'm a sucker for a guy in glasses...so sue me. Click here to check out their web site to hear a little bit (the navigation is in the bottom left hand corner...Sweet Sophia is my favorite!).

You're welcome.

Musical weekend moment numero dos. American Idol Karaoke Revolution for Wii. No, I'm not kidding. No, I'm not a 13 year old Hannah Montana fan. (though I do love Miley Cyrus and I will not be judged by you) AI: Karaoke Revolution comes with a microphone (a microphone! yay!) and you have to sing to the beat, keeping the pitch right the whole time. Sure sure, it sounds easy but let me tell you this - I have an all new respect for Gladys Knight. Midnight Train to Georgia is a HARD FREAKIN' SONG to sing.

The fiancee and I played for about four hours on Saturday night. I truly feel that listening to my man sing Copacabana and Tiny Dancer has made us THAT MUCH CLOSER. It's only a matter of time before we get evicted...or at the very least investigated for suspicion of abusing cats in apartment 17.

Palin is a JOKE...

Does anyone else think that Sarah Palin was two "finger guns" and a laughtrack away from being a Happy Days character?

Exhibit A:



Exhibit B:



I rest my case.

Bill O'Reilly is an angry man...

In case you didn't know...



Aw...does someone need a hug?

John McCain is one of us...

His kitchen is bigger than my entire apartment.

Phelps is a funny, funny guy...

In what I think is one of the funniest viral campaigns I've seen in a long time, the Citation Shares private jet company is using Michael Phelps in a series of viral ads that made me giggle:

Here's one in which he beans a guy in the face with either a swim cap or a Speedo (having issues embedding so here's the link):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=magN2AY3ev4

Hilarious!

Blog of the week...

Yes, I realize I posted one yesterday therefore defeating the "by the week" concept, but it's MY blog and I can post as many as I want to!

Here's a fun one: http://www.bedjump.com/

Blog of the week...

Blogs are the funnest, are they not?

Here's my friend Kelly's blog which she claims will actually "make you dumb." But quite frankly, if my love of Walker: Texas Ranger hasn't done that already, I'm willing to take the risk.

http://noticethings.wordpress.com/

Enjoy!

I hate Tuesdays...

Mondays are always rough. I mean, no one wants to go back to work after a weekend of weekendy goodness. But Tuesdays...well Tuesdays are the REAL bummers. Think about it - has there ever been a Tuesday when you haven't said, "Jeez...it's ONLY Tuesday. Ugh." or "Is it really only Tuesday?" or "Sweet! The Dancing With the Stars Results Show is on tonight! Kim Kardashian is going DOWN!"

Well you know what I mean.

I have the Tuesday Blues. And there's only one thing that will give me the pick-me-up I need to make it through the day:



You're welcome.

Life in my personal sitcom...

Sometimes my life takes odd turns and I find myself somehow embroiled in events and activities that result in all sorts of hilarity ensuing. Unfortunately that hilarity often ensues as a direct result of physical injury to my person, or a solid blow to my ego. And this weekend was no different.

My fiancee and I were helping my sister and brother-in-law with a little spring/fall cleaning. My fiancee and brother-in-law were in the garage, playing with power tools and burping or chest thumping or whatever it is that men do when they're not in the presence of ladies. My sister and I were cleaning out the tiny walk-in closet in my nephew's room.

So there I am, barefoot, sweaty, and knee deep in piles of burp cloths and rubber nipples, when my sister Michelle comes in to show me something.

And that's when it happened. My nephew (who is not even two years old) slammed the closet door shut, locking Michelle and me in a 3X5 foot closet. After about 10 minutes of cooing "Max, sweetie...open the door...turn the knob. Max? Come on lovie...open the door." and getting only "Mama, close! Close door!" in response, we decided that drastic measures were needed.

I'm not going to go into ALL the details but I'll end with this: to escape we had to LITERALLY kick our way - Jackie Chan style - out of the closet all while singing children's songs and saying things like, "Auntie Denise is so silly, isn't she? Making all this loud noise!" to soothe my screaming nephew.

I have a cracked rib and a seriously bruised and scratched leg to show for it.

But the best part of the story is this. We go out to the garage - my nephew won't stop shaking, my sister is red and puffy from crying, I have blood trickling down my leg. And what do the men in our lives do? They laugh.

That's right. LAUGH! Oh sure...it's funny now! But being locked in a room the size of a mini-fridge with another adult and ZERO circulation is NOT FUNNY at the time! And forgive me if I can't see the humor in a CRACKED FREAKIN' RIB!

...okay, well now I can see the humor but I can't laugh because it hurts. So I'll just blog.

SNL makes me giggle...

Both hilarious and scary all at once! Can't wait for Thursday's VP debate!



God help us all if they win!

Fergie Ferg goes Latin...

Long before she did a duet with Daddy Yankee little Fergie Ferg was hopping on the Latin Party Train while performing on Disney's fantastic late 80's hit, Kids' Incorporated. For those of you who didn't watch Kids' Incorporated...well, I'm just sorry that you lived such horribly sheltered lives. This was truly inspirational television and I believe it made me what I am today. Namely, an obsessive compulsive celeb-stalker with delusions of being discovered the next time I sing karaoke.

And here's a little snippet to give you the feel:



You're welcome.

Hey, ya'll it's me! Sarah Palin!

I have a very important lesson for you! Our next door neighbors are foreign countries. BIG ONES! No, for real! I even know which ones they are which, BTW, totally makes me THAT MUCH smarter than a certain president whose name rhymes with Tush.

OMG! I totally just said tush! HA HA HA HA! See? I'm just like YOU! I say TUSH and I laugh and I have pretty long hair and wear lipstick and drive my 3 kids...um, I mean, my FOUR kids to hockey practice and the ob/gyn! I'm just like YOU only I have WAY more foreign policy experience because Russia and Canada are my next door neighbors.


Watch CBS Videos Online

So what'd ya think, eh?

DWTS is back! Hooray!

I love Dancing With the Stars. I love it, I love it and I don't care who knows it. I've watched every season and each year I convince myself to take ballroom dance classes. The problem is that shortly thereafter I convince myself to drink wine and eat french fries and sit on my couch watching TiVo'd episodes of America's Next Top Model...and I'm afraid there just isn't enough Denise to go around.

I must say that I'm a bit disappointed by the cast this season. First of all, Kim Kardashian is so boring and not at all the salty little minx I had imagined. Homegirl has dead eyes and, if I'm being honest, seems dumber than a bag of hair. But that's neither here nor there.

Susan Lucci is annoying and way too breathy - sort of reminicent of the character of Mrs. White in the movie Clue. If you've been living under a rock for the past 20 years here's what I'm referring to:



Moving on. The 12 year old from Hannah Montana is...well, young, and I can't even bring myself to learn his name because - let's get real - he'll be delivering pizzas in a year.

Blah, blah, Misty May, blah, blah, Maurice Greene (who I must say, has some moves), blah, blah, Ted McGuinley, blah, blah, Rocco DiSpirito (who I'm slowly developing a crush on), blah, blah, Lance Bass...okay wait. I kind of love Lance Bass and his funky little dance partner.

But the real star...the real GEM in this competition is 82-year old Cloris Leachman. I can't tell whether she's just one hell of a comedian or whether she's one cha-cha away from hopping on the Dementia Express. But either way it makes for good television. In the past two days she's called Carianne Inaba a bitch twice, she's made Len Goodman ask her to remove her cleavage from his face...I mean, it's just priceless.

I can't find any online video of Cloris in action on DWTS but if this interview with Bonnie Hunt gives you any indication, she is a GOOD TIME.



If you're not watching, you really should be. And please do vote for Cloris - 'cause God knows the DWTS needs all the excitement it can get!

McCain is a big, fat liar.

Are you kidding me? Liar, liar pants on fire? Does he not read the news?

Lady, please. Solange Knowles needs to stop it.

Please, lady. You are a nobody and you should just be grateful that anyone wants to talk to you.

And though I'm usually not a fan of FOX anchors (damn right wing freakshows), I am LOVING the male anchor in this segment. (though if you read the comments below the video you'll note that not everyone agrees with me...crazy, I know)



Shut your pie hole, Solange.

Jonas Brothers are magic

I've said it before and I'll say it again. If I were a 15 year old girl I would be IN LOVE with The Jonas Brothers. All three of them. I'm a sucker for curls. And here's the thing: I never thought they were particularly talented but then last night happened and my thoughts were confirmed. Not only are they NOT particularly talented, but they are pretty awful, actually. (please don't miss, at around 2:08, the chubby teens practically trampling each other to get closer to the stage...yes, that would have been me 15 years ago)



The entire performance (especially the part where they "rock out, Disney style") I was having flashbacks of the episode of the Brady Bunch where Peter's voice starts cracking right before they're about to record that brilliant musical number, Time To Change.

You know what? It's been too damn long since I last heard that little diddy, so here it is, in all its glory. Try to tell me you're not itching to run out for a tambourine and a fringed leather daishiki?

I want to understand...

...but I SO don't. Last night I was watching the MTV Video Music Awards and I had one thought.

"Hot damn, I'm old."

I mean, I think I'm pretty hip, open minded and "with it" but I've gotta tell you, this new crop of artists is leaving me feeling a bit...em, confused.

Take Slip Knot for example:



Uh, WHAT? I can't even look at this picture without being a little afraid. Okay, a lot afraid. I understand the concept of musicians wearing costumes and ridiculous clothing - after all, I was (and still am) a big fan of hair rock bands and lord knows Twisted Sister ALONE could clean out the entire Bonnie Belle aisle at CVS. But there's a difference between wearing a little blush and Lip Smacker, and dressing like the Spawn of Satan. These guys look like they want to eat my kidneys (and your kidneys) and like they wouldn't think twice of killing bunnies and voting Republican. EVIL, I SAY.

Okay, I can't even look at this anymore because it's freaking me out. Let's move on to something else I can't understand:



Oh Lil' Wayne. What's with the teeth? And the forehead tattoo? And the fact that it seems you don't like wearing shirts or pants that fit when you perform? I don't understand anything about Lil Wayne but I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to. I'm not what we marketers call his "target demographic." Obviously his target demo is white men, ages 16-40, who grew up in the suburbs and have never actually BEEN to the inner city but have seen Boyz In Da Hood like TEN TIMES, DUDE. Men like Michael Phelps who says he listens to Lil' Wayne before a race. Oh really, Phelpsy? Do you feel you can relate to stuff like this:

Because the cops is watchin' the streets is talkin'
Ya hoes is unfaithful, ya family ungreatful
Ya ni**az aint loyal, you ni**az aint lawyers
And everybody saw you and ain't that a bitch!


I think not.

How about these guys? Tokio Hotel?




First of all, I hate HATE when people misspell things on purpose. Would it have hurt them to go with TokYo Hotel? Why Tokio? Is that supposed to be cute? (maybe I'm not as hip as I thought considering I've just turned into the Grammar Police) Second, I wonder how much Aqua Net was required to get that dude's hair to stick up like that? And also, I thought the goth look was out? Is this still considered the goth look? What IS this look? (other than horrible and slightly douchey looking, which is obvious.)

Sigh...

I'm so, SO confused.

Best. Ad. Ever.

Remember earlier in this blog when I said I'm not in the advertising business but if I was I wouldn't use eye patches in my commercials unless I was selling medical supplies and/or Halloween costumes?

Well here's the kind of ad I would make:



Hurry before "he change his miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiind!"

Are you ready for some football?

I am not an advertising expert. I don't get paid to come up with clever and compelling copy that makes consumers run to their computers and retail outlets, credit cards in hand. But I think if I did get paid to come up with great ads, they probably wouldn't include pervasive eye handicaps.

Apparently the folks at the Oakland Raiders NFL franchise don't agree with my strategy:



I know that the Raider mascot is a tough dude sporting an eye patch...but how is a little old lady wearing an eye patch and telling me to "let it out" supposed to make me want to rush out to buy football tickets? The only thing it makes me want to buy is eye drops for Nana.

Maybe I'm just tired and cranky but I think tonight I'll be haunted by nightmares of my grandma Mima dressed up like a pirate, chasing me around an endless football field telling me - in a deep manly voiceover-voice - to let it out. Oh the horror.

Is Your Dog Bulemic?

I was in a cab, going from SFO Airport to my hotel (the lovely Hilton San Francisco) for yet another whirlwind 12-hour tour of a major U.S. city when I drove past the following sign:



I didn't even realize this was a possibility but SF, always ahead of the game when it comes to tree hugging and other social issues, seems to have pinpointed this potentially serious health concern that may or may not be plaguing the Bay Area. Perhaps Sarah Palin should bring this issue to the forefront by adding it to her Miss America...er, I mean Vice Presidential nominee platform?

Hen House Television

I know The View has a huge viewership and women love it and feel they can "relate" to the hosts. I get it. It's a money maker for ABC. Every time Whoopi says something controversial or Elizabeth cries it's all over the news and the interwebs. So clearly SOMEONE is watching.

I GET IT.

But I hate it. I can't stand the sound of a group of women talking over each other, jockeying for position, trying to out gab each other. To me - and I realize this statement will not be popular with the ladies - it sounds like hens in a hen house. (is someone going to revoke my feminist card now?)

The latest offender is the third (4th? 16th?) hour of the Today Show with Hoda Kotbe (who I really like) and Kathie Lee Gifford (who I despise with the heat of 10,000 suns).



Yes, yes...I get it. Women love Kathie Lee. She's probably boosting NBC's ratings by a million points...or 10 points? Or however those rating systems work. But come on, people. Kathie Lee just told Dr. Phil to speak into her "heaving bosom."

I can't. I just can't.

Blogging withdrawal

I used to have a blog. In it I made snarky and witty comments about celebrities and their failings, both as it relates to fashion and life. I gently suggested to Lindsay Lohan that tights do not count as pants unless you are an acrobat and/or Superman.



I maternally pointed out to Chloe Sevigny that dressing like my aunt Estella circa 1983 is neither clever, ironic or cool unless you're auditioning for an off-Broadway tribute to the Golden Girls. (which would be AWESOME, by the way. Get on it, Lloyd Webber.)



Yet for some reason when I moved from NYC to LA - a city that is home to enough celebricrap for all the bloggers in the world to stay very, very busy - I lost the urge to blog. It was just too easy. Like shooting very thin, very tan, very Botoxed fish in a barrel. Since I've lived here Nicole Richie has driven the wrong way on the 134 freeway, went to jail for 48 hours or so, had a baby and turned into quite a lovely young lady by all accounts. Stud-muffin Matthew McConaughey is now a daddy and hasn't lately been photographed wearing only a smile and a strategically placed bongo drum. Even Paris Hilton seems to be M.I.A., hawking shoes on billboards littering Sunset Boulevard and making somewhat clever political videos.

Perhaps we're all growing up. I mean I, for one, have bigger fish to fry these days. (I'm in Wedding Planning Purgatory and my fiancee and I have reached the poignant "my stuff is nicer than your stuff so get to Craigslist-ing" phase in our relationship. Thankfully he agrees and has been a good sport...except when it comes to the drawer of "commermorative t-shirts" but why split hairs?) The point is, I've got too much going on in my life these days to care about Lindsay Lohan's improper use of undergarments, or Chloe's misguided love of polyesther blends. And really, who am I to judge? These days my definition of "couture" is Banana Republic, and The Container Store has replaced Bloomingdales as my favorite store.

But fret not, dear readers. For there are plenty of interesting topics to blog about. I'm sitting in my hotel room in Chicago and watching Dr. Phil discuss Republican VP candidate Sarah Palin's 17-year old pregnant daughter who may or may not also be the real mother of Palin's youngest baby. (I'm fairly certain that was a plot on a recent episode of As The World Turns.) And New Kids On The Block will be performing on the Today Show tomorrow. (NKOTB! OMG!) And 90210 is back on the air only Jenny Garth is now the school counselor and the main stars are young enough to be my children. AND I just booked a hair stylist for my wedding! Em, okay so maybe that last point isn't as exciting as the first three.

The point is I'm back and better than ever, with 50% less sodium and 50% more sass!

K.I.T.!