Saturday, October 31, 2009

LADY GaGa finds that Jennifer Aniston looks boring

LADY GaGa is famous for her weird clothings and she admires Jennifer Aniston but finds her that she looks boring.

She told Canada’s Flare magazine, “Fashion saved my life. It was complete liberation… it made me feel powerful, ambitious and much more resilient.

“We all need an image that screams, ‘I’m an individual!’ I think Jennifer Aniston is beautiful – she’s gorgeous – but I prefer to look interesting rather than pretty.”

Source

Friday, October 30, 2009

Jennifer Aniston is listed of one Hollywood’s 20 Hottest Scream Queens Of All Time



Jennifer Aniston is among those who make it into Hollywood’s 20 Hottest Scream Queens Of All Time. What makes her in the list? She acted in 1993 horror film Leprechaun.

Who else is listed in this category? Megan Fox, Jessica Biel and Halle Berry. Well, I am not surprise. They are hot babes.

Source

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Guest Post---"One Truffle At The Ritz" by my dad

Hello dear readers!

My mom is in town visiting and we've been quite busy. With Halloween coming this weekend, I confess I haven't got much time to write anything thoughtful; however, I wanted to share this lovely tidbit with you in the interim. I didn't even ask permission, but this is a short essay my dad recently wrote and submitted to Saveur Magazine. I think it's a great piece, and perhaps it will be a welcome change from my boring stuff! Would love to know what you think.

_______________________________________________________________
ONE TRUFFLE AT THE RITZ


True food lovers are always ready for that singular new experience, whether it is the rare and exotic, the voluptuous and excessive, or simply the soul satisfying richness of the best of the tried and true; that moment,that first bite can be almost paralyzing in its intensity and, if the planets are properly aligned, can be relived and savored for a lifetime. I count myself among those fortunate (and perhaps relentlessly inquisitive enough) to have had several such food moments. One of my favorites was the experience of a unique dish at the Ritz in Paris in February, 1980.


I was a 31 year old lawyer in Paris for only the second time and on a side excursion after a London meeting of the American Bar Association. My wife, Julie, I and another couple, had decided to stay at the Ritz, certainly an extravagance, but one quickly and eagerly justified as a once in a lifetime experience. After all, what better time to go than with good friends; besides, Julie was seven months pregnant with our second child, so a little indulgence could be justified.


We arrived a little before check-in time and our rooms were not yet ready. Even without a room, we felt welcomed and cosseted by the hushed quietness of the public areas richly carpeted in plush oriental rugs on gleaming stone floors and furnished with rare and carefully polished antiques. It was winter and the hotel was sparsely populated, its silence punctuated only with the staff's murmurings and the quiet rustling of the maids' black taffeta skirts as they went almost invisibly about their duties. We had certainly "arrived," but were doing our best not to look as overwhelmed and intimidated as we felt. We tried to behave as if all this was second nature to us so as not to betray the "country come to town"reality of this group of four young people from Houma, Louisiana.


That night we decided to dine in the hotel as tired travelers (and pregnant women in particular) sometimes do. The large formal dining room was empty when we arrived. While we missed the energy and excitement of a crowd, there was still something almost reverential about the room. The linens, crystal, sliver, silk drapery, flowers and candlelight watched over by several tuxedoed staff members created something resembling an empty stageset. We had to choose whether to be lonely guests in an empty hotel restaurant, or instead the stars of our very own opulent production. We quickly chose stardom and a bottle of champagne as the useful accelerant.The occasion was extraordinary and demanded no less.


We studied our menus at length with the much needed assistance of Julie's still quite good high school French. This necessarily took quite some time and, after all, we were not in a hurry. It was then that I began eyeing a beautifully presented whole smoked salmon lying in state on a gilded baroque sideboard across the room. As soon as had I began to whisper of this delicacy to my companions, a waiter glided up with a substantial portion for us to sample. I had not yet read or heard about Cesar Ritz's famed table radar, but had just experienced it firsthand. The service continued with our needs being met almost before we recognized them ourselves, and all this was done from a respectful distance without intrusion.


Eventually we made our selections. With Julie's help and some charade-like communication with the waiter, I discovered a hot appetizer described as a whole truffle baked and sauced in a puff pastry. My experience of truffles at this point was confined to tiny specs in pates.The specter of a whole truffle was mesmerizing. I loved their smoky, earthy flavor. The idea of a whole one all to myself prepared and served in this temple of opulence and excess was too much to bear. Unfortunately, so was the a la carte price of $50.00, a staggering sum indeed to a young lawyer in 1980. I agonized only briefly before resorting again to my tried and true justification of excess. When, would I ever have such an opportunity again? Wouldn't I forever regret any penurious cowardice?

Of course I would! And so the battle was won (or lost depending on one's perspective) and I placed my order.


The dish arrived plated on heated Limoges. I knew because I had already peeked at the bottom of my bread plate proving once again my lack of manners and proper upbringing. The golden square of pastry rose several inches from the plate and was topped with a circular dome hinting at the prize within. When I broke the very crisp and layered croissant- like crust with my knife and fork, a small cloud of pungent steam rose as I waited for the dish to cool. Despite my best efforts to savor it slowly, the deliciously sauced and spongy golf ball sized black truffle, along with every crumb of the pastry seemed gone in no time at all.


I do not remember the other courses, or what everyone else had during our long and very French dinner. I do, however, remember one very special glittering evening of splendor and luxury with my lovely wife and two dear friends, all of whom kindly indulged me in my quest for memorable excess. We had an exceptional evening and I have Proustian memories of it even now, and without ever again biting into another whole truffle.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Butternut Squash Risotto Recipe


I made this last night and it was pure heaven, people. It was also my first attempt at risotto, and I confess I'm pretty damn impressed with myself. I loved it, Hubby loved it and Izzy had a few bites, too. But Abby is allergic to veggies, so her radar went off as soon as she saw the cubed squash. Oh well. This made a TON, so we have plenty of leftovers for tonight! If I can make this, anyone can!! It would be healthier without the butter, but I'm not sure it would taste as good.



Butternut Squash Risotto

Makes 6 1-1/2 cup servings

Adapted from Chez Panisse via The Wednesday Chef.


You will need:
1 medium butternut squash (about 1 pound whole or 12 ounces cut up)

24 sage leaves

Salt and pepper

7 to 8 cups fat-free chicken (or veggie) stock

1 medium onion, diced small

3 1/2 tablespoons unsalted butter

2 cups uncooked Arborio rice

1/2 cup dry white wine

1/2 cup parmesan, grated



1) Peel squash, then dice into very small (1/4- or 1/3-inch) cubes. Combine squash, a few sage leaves, 1 cup stock, and a little salt in a heavy-bottomed pot. Bring to a simmer and cook until tender (but not too soft) about 5 to 10 minutes. (You want the cubes to keep their form when they’re stirred into the risotto.) Drain and reserve liquid, just in case.


2) While squash is cooking, add the rest of the stock to another pot, bring to a simmer, and keep it there. Meanwhile, finely chop 6 large sage leaves.


3) In another, larger, heavy-bottomed saucepan, heat 2 tablespoons of butter over medium until melted. Add chopped sage and cook about 1 minute. Add onion and cook until translucent, about 5 minutes. Turn heat to low, add rice and a pinch of salt and cook for 3 minutes, stirring often, until rice has turned slightly translucent. Turn the heat back up to medium, and add the white wine. Once the wine has been absorbed, add enough hot stock to cover the rice. Stir well and reduce the heat back down to medium-low.


4) Gently simmer the rice, stirring occasionally, until stock is absorbed. Add another 1/2-to-3/4 cup warm stock, and stir occasionally until new stock is absorbed. Repeat the process until all the stock has been absorbed by the rice, and rice is tender. This could take anywhere from 15 to 30 minutes. (It took me closer to 30.)



5) While all this is going on, sauté 10 sage leaves in a 1/2 tablespoon of butter until crisp, about 30 to 60 seconds, turning once halfway through. Rest on paper towel.



6) When rice is mostly tender, add cooked squash, parmesan, and the remaining tablespoon of butter. Cook 3 to 5 minutes, until dairy is melted and squash is heated through. Salt and pepper to taste. Serve hot, using sage leaves as garnish.




Approximate Calories, Fat, Fiber, and Price Per Serving:


371 calories, 10 g fat, 1.4 g fiber, $1.77


Calculations:


1 medium butternut squash (12 ounces cut up): 153 calories, 0.3 g fat. 6.8 g fiber, $0.7224

sage leaves: negligible calories, fat, and fiber, $1.50

Salt and pepper: negligible calories, fat, and fiber, $0.03

7 to 8 cups fat-free chicken (or veggie) stock: 120 calories, 8 g fat, 0 g fiber, $3.001

medium onion, diced small: 46 calories, 0.1 g fat, 1.5 g fiber, $0.18

3 1/2 tablespoons unsalted butter: 356 calories, 40.3 g fat, 0 g fiber, $0.21

2 cups uncooked Arborio rice: 1280 calories, 0 g fat, 0 g fiber, $2.49

1/2 cup dry white wine: 96 calories, 0 g fat, 0 g fiber, $1.23

1/2 cup parmesan, grated: 172 calories, 11.4 g fat, 0 g fiber


TOTAL: 2223 calories, 60.1 g fat, 8.3 g fiber, $10.72

PER SERVING (TOTAL/6): 371 calories, 10 g fat, 1.4 g fiber, $1.77

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Post-It Note Tuesday

If you want to play, go here to check out Supah Mommy's blog!
















Have you read The Help by Kathryn Stockett?



Bloggy friends, if you haven't yet read this book, please please please hop on over to http://www.amazon.com/ right now and buy it! The Help, written by Kathryn Stockett, was so good I started reading it Saturday night (yes, I realize this means I have no life) and blew through it. I finished it yesterday morning. It was that good. Better than sex.


The Help focuses on the lives of three narrators: Minny and Aibileen, black maids and best friends, and Eugenia, a.k.a. Skeeter, a young white woman who has recently graduated from Ole Miss. The book is set in 1962 in Jackson, Mississippi and it deftly exposes the tensions rising during the civil rights movement. Once I started this book, I quite literally couldn't put it down. Dan's stepmother gave it to me for my birthday, and it's been one of those books gathering dust on my nightstand (I know many of you have similar piles!). Well, a friend of mine mentioned having read it, so I figured it was high time I started. Then I couldn't stop. It was so, so good. I gobbled up every page, hungry for more. I didn't want it to end!
I immediately related to Skeeter and loved her character. After all, she's a GRITS member (Girls Raised In The South) like moi, she's a sorority girl, and she loves to write. She's tall, she feels awkward in her own skin, and the people she considers her best friends don't think twice about ditching her. Throughout the novel she comes to terms with her true self--the difference between who she is and who she wants/doesn't want to be---and learns to stand alone. I was so proud of her and what she did that I caught myself laughing and cheering out loud...and catching tiny glimpses of myself.
Here's an excerpt that I loved, a scene between Eugenia/Skeeter and her family's maid, Constantine:
--------------------------------------------------------
The first time I was ever called ugly, I was thirteen. It was a rich friend of my brother Carlton's, over to shoot guns in the field.
"Why you crying, girl?" Constantine asked me in the kitchen.
I told her what the boy had called me, tears streaming down my face.
"Well? Is you?"
I blinked, paused my crying. "Is I what?"
"Now you look a here, Eugenia" --because Constantine was the only one who'd occasionally follow Mama's rule. "Ugly live up on the inside. Ugly be a hurtful, mean person. Is you one a them peoples?"
"I don't know. I don't think so," I sobbed.
Constantine sat down next to me at the kitchen table. I heard the cracking of her swollen joints. She pressed her thumb hard in the palm of my hand, something we both knew meant Listen. Listen to me.
"Ever morning, until you dead in the ground, you gone have to make this decision." Constantine was so close, I could see the blackness of her gums. "You gone have to ask yourself, Am I gone believe what them fools say about me today?"
She kept her thumb pressed hard in my hand. I nodded that I understood. I was just smart enough to realize she meant white people. And even though I still felt miserable, and knew that I was, most likely, ugly, it was the first time she ever talked to me like I was something besides my mother's white child. All my life I'd been told what to believe about politics, coloreds, being a girl. But with Constantine's thumb pressed in my hand, I realized I actually had a choice in what I could believe.
--------------------------------------------------------
Read this book. I promise you won't be disappointed!

Jennifer Aniston won't go anymore for botox



Jennifer Aniston went botox before and she doesn't like the outcome. Because she does not have much expressions after the procedure.

She explained, "You see women and you know they're not young but you can't tell how old they are. It makes them look harder. The warmth in their face goes away. It is not a good look."

Then she continues, "If I eat burgers and fries everyday I won't get the parts I'm offered. I'd become a character actress, that might be fine one day but not right now."

Source

Rihanna getting advice from Jennifer Aniston



Rihanna is getting advice from Jennifer Aniston. She become close to her when she was assaulted by ex-boyfriend Chris Brown.

Jennifer Aniston's movie producer pal Ray Manzella said “Jen has her fair share of imperfect relationships but not one of those men was ever disrespectful to her physically."

“No one would dare lay a hand on her because they know they just couldn’t get away with it.

“Hopefully that will rub off on Rihanna. She needs someone who can set the example that no woman should be treated with anything less than respect. I think Jen’s the one to do that.”

Source

Monday, October 26, 2009

Manic Monday Awards Ceremony

Hello, everyone!

It's just another Manic Monday here, so I thought I'd liven up the morning by handing out a few awards!




The entertaining and always interesting Steph in the City gave me this Heartfelt Award and I couldn't be more excited! Thanks, Stephanie! I really enjoy reading her blog. She really makes me think, which is a rarity when I'm so often in mommy-coma-land. You should check her out here right now and become her newest follower! I would like to pass this award on to these lovely ladies:


Bacon is my Lover

Blog-Ignoramus

Life Laugh Latte

Martinis or Diaper Genies

Speaking of Witch

A Day in the Life: Chronicles of an Only Parent

Princess of Sarcasm



Next, Kys over at Stir-Fry Awesomeness gave me this Friends Award, which made me feel all warm & fuzzy inside. Thanks, girl! Kys is a kick in the pants and her sense of humor is outta dis world. FOLLOW HER NOW! I'm going to be a big dork and give it back to her, as well as to these wonderful peeps:

Batcrap Crazy


Adventures of the Reluctant Housewife


Leigh vs. Laundry


The Miss Elaine-ous Life


2 Kids.....3 Martinis


Headaches, Hormones & Hot Flashes


Daffy over at Batcrap Crazy gave me the Silver Shoe of Sincerity Award, which is a new one and I'm sooooo flattered! Thank you, Daffy, from the bottom of my heart. And in case you didn't know, Daffy and I are going to meet in person soon. I'm sure she'll stop following me once that happens, though. We live not terribly far from one another and she's going to risk everything by coming to meet me & my little hooligans!


I'm going to pass this gem along to:


MJ over at Dirty Little Confessions. Mary Jane isn't afraid to tell it like it is or to let her true, vulnerable self shine through. So she is very deserving of this and you should go check her out now!

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Jennifer Aniston to have small screen with Oprah Winfrey



According to Britain's Sunday Express, Jennifer Aniston will have a small screen alongside with Oprah Winfrey in Oprah Winfrey Network. The notion came alight because her friendship with comedienne Chelsea Handler.

A source tells the publication, "Jen became fascinated with the format after spending time with Chelsea. When she saw Oprah she mentioned that it would be fun to do a chat show and Oprah seized the moment and suggested they front one together for her new network."

Source

Sunday E-mail Shiggedy

Please tell me I'm not the only one who gets this crap all the time. Yes, it was in my spam folder, but still! It drives me bananas. So ridiculous. Do you think that many people actually fall for it and respond? Please note the "asses" he refers to near the end (I put it in bold italics). The only ass here is this jack-off! I especially love his use of grammar and his command of the English language. Obviously I didn't even try to click on his link, and neither should you. At least it was my laugh for the day:

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Good Day,Urgent Business Proposal.

I am the Director of Bill and Exchange at the foreign remittance Department of Africa Development bank (ADB). I am writing to seek your cooperation over this business deal. In my Department, I discovered an abandoned sum of (US $10 Million United state Dollars). In an account that belongs to one of our foreign customers who died along with his entire family in a plane crash that took place in Kenya, The account belongs to the Late DR. GEORGE BRUMLEY, acitizen of Atlanta, United States of America but naturalised in Burkina-Faso and contractor with Anglo Gold. Since we got information about his death, we have been expecting his next of kin or business associate to come and claim his money because it cannot be released unless somebody applies for it as next of kin or business associate to the deceased as indicated in our banking guidelines but unfortunately, all his supposed next of kin or relation died along with him at the plane crash leaving nobody behind for the claim. You can read more about the crash on visiting this site;http://www.cnn.com/2003/WORLD/africa/07/20/kenya.crash/index.html it is therefore upon this discovery that I now decided to make this business proposal to you and release the money to your account as the next of kin or business associate. The Banking law and guideline here stipulates that if such money remains dormant after four years; the money will be transferred into the Banktreasury as unclaimed fund. The request for your assistance and maximum co-operation as a foreign citizen is highly needed to release this fund. I will like us to share this money mutually on two equal halves between me and you .Please note that I don’t have any asses to withdraw any cent from this money due to the money was insured by the owner DR. GEORGE BRUMLEY. I will indulge you at this point to understand that this is privileged information and must be strictly confidential.

Best Regards Yours faithfully,

DR. PAUL RICHARDBILL AND EXCHANGE MANAGER,
Federal Republic of BURKINA-FASO PRIE CONFIDENTIAL NOVAT

Will Jennifer Aniston teams up with Oprah Winfrey ?

Rumors have been circulating, saying that Jennifer Aniston will team up with
Oprah Winfrey to host a talk show but according to RadarOnline.com, this is not true.

A rep for her said that those reports are hoax.

Source

Friday, October 23, 2009

Jennifer Aniston's ex beau act as gay

Jennifer Aniston’s former boyfriend british model Paul Sculfor act as a gay and was spotted kissing a male actor during the shooting of the movie.

I don't know how people can kiss eventhough they are not gay, just for the sake of acting. Some people may even treat it gross if they are not homosexual.

Source

BLerapy -- Hosting an Anonymous Post Today








Welcome visitors!



I am hosting an anyonymous post for
bLerApy © day
Hosted by


Princess of Sarcasm and SupahMommy


*Please remember that the post for today is written by an anonymous blogger and not by myself. The views, ideas and opinions expressed are exclusively the anony-blogger's.




* however i might just have a post floating around in the mix
winkwink




After you read today's bLerApy© post: please feel free to snoop around my blog. Here's a post you might like!



I hope to see you again.

___________________________________________________________________________
















My friend and I were taking our nightly walk the other day around the neighborhood. We got a late start and because sassy pants Mother Nature has decided to skip fall for us this year and head straight into the depths of winter, it was probably going to be our last walk for awhile.





We talked about the kids, school, cleaning, what we didn’t get done that day, and she mentioned her stomach was kind of upset from dinner. I asked her if she wanted to turn around, we were only a few blocks from our street. She said no.





So we kept walking past the houses and around the corner. I commented on how weird it was that almost every house in the neighborhood and put up lights for Halloween this year and she interrupted me mid sentence to let me know she was going to run into her bathroom and shit her brains out as soon we got home.





Uh, great? Like I don’t get enough poop and potty talk at home.





We walked a few more blocks and discussed how many houses were for sale and foreclosed on in the area, well I discussed, she started to sweat and breathe heavily.





“Are you ok?” I asked watching her slow down a little and wipe the beads of sweat from her forehead.


“I don’t think so. I need to go. I need to go right now.”


“What do you mean go? Like poop? You need to poop right now?”


“Yea. Come on.”





She had picked up the pace and was doing this kind of gallop side run down the sidewalk that eventually turned the corner back towards our street, another four or five blocks away.





“Why are you running like that? You look like a horse with a stick up its ass,” I laughed.


“Cuz I’m about to shit my pants you asshole!” Satan reared her head around and steam and pea soup emerged from her mouth.


“Ok, sorry. Just a few more blocks,” I cowered in fear as her butt clenching gallop slowed.





“I’m not going to make it. I need to go now,” She said running into the middle of the street.


“Well, let’s knock on someone’s door and see if you can use the bathroom.”


“HOLY FUCK COME UP WITH AN IDEA THAT WON'T EMBARRASS ME.” She screamed.


“Uh, ok sorry. I don’t know. I mean there’s not a bathroom out here on the street,” I said not sure if I wanted to cry, laugh, or kick her ass.


“Cover me,” She galloped to the other side of the street to a large empty retention pond. I heard her slide down the hill. Oh yea, this was going to be much less embarrassing than using a toilet.





“Oh gawd,” She mumbled before it came. Ya know that scene in Dumb and Dumber where the not Jim Carrey guy shits his intestines out for about five minutes? This was her. But in the cold frozen grass, in a deep retention pond that was surrounded by at least thirty houses on each side. She may not have been able to see them over the hill, but anyone looking out their back door could see her in the rows of safety lights that came on when she moved.





I could hear it all. I didn’t know what to do. So I started to laugh, hysterically.





“It’s not funny!” She yelled in between juicy farts.


“I’m sorry. Do you need help?” I asked calming myself. What the hell lady? You’re pooping in the grass of these people’s backyard. It’s fucking hilarious.


“God damn it, my foot just slipped in it,” she mumbled. “No. Just make sure no one walks by.”


“You want me to gather leaves or something?” I asked looking to make sure the coast was clear.


“SHUT THE FUCK UP AND WAIT!” she yelled.





So I did. Amongst the symphony of loud wet diarrhea that played for at least another two minutes.





“I think I’m done,” She sighed. And then I heard real music playing. And a deep voice say hello.


“Did you hear that?” I whispered inching off the sidewalk to the edge of the hill.


“Shhhh! Yes, I heard that.” She whispered back.


We heard it again. I looked down the backyards of the houses, the security lights back on at a few from my friend walking back up to the sidewalk.





“Dude, that guy’s on his deck right there,” I pointed to a house on the far side a few houses down.


“Fuck. Come on let's go,” She said jogging to the other side of the street and towards our block.


“Oh my God, I bet he was scared something was dying. You’re probably going to be on YouTube.” I tried not to laugh.


“I hate you,” She mumbled pushing me back into the street so we could cross over to our block. “I’ll go back later tonight and clean it up. Shit! It‘s all over my jacket.”


“Clean it up? How are you going to clean up diarrhea out of grass? It‘s not like dog poop,” I said. Only a few more houses until mine.


“ I don’t know. I swear to God if you tell a single soul about this I will eat your children.”


“That’s probably what got you in this mess in the first place,” I laughed quickly dodging her fake karate kick. “Hope you feel better. I’ll see you tomorrow.”


“Goodnight. I hate you!”


“Hate you too, bestie!” I waved watching her jog up her driveway giving me the finger.





The next day we took the kids to lunch and every time I asked if she wanted to go rent Dumb & Dumber or pick up some Depends, she’d grab my little guy and pretend to chew on his arm. We’re awesome like that.













__________________________________________________________________________

















Below you will find a linky list of anony-musings of famed bloggers world wide. Please visit each host listed below - to view a showcased bLerApy© blog.














Blog Therapy= bLerApy©




coined by Princess













Did you miss out on bLerApy©?




Awww...don't cry.







Join us for the next round!


November 6th 2009.


Blog submissions are due


November 4th 12 midnight.


Find out more by clicking the link below and submit your own!














Thursday, October 22, 2009

BLerapy is almost here!

Big excitement in blog land, folks!





Tomorrow is BLerapy, hosted by Adventures of a Wanna-Be Supah Mommy. Click on that to read more. For you lazy people, here's the rub: I will be hosting a post tomorrow (Friday) written by an anonymous blogger--NOT ME---an exercise to allow him/her to vent or tell a funny story that he/she cannot post on his/her own blog for any variety of reasons. I am really excited, and I know Supah Mommy has been working hard to make this happen. So come back tomorrow & visit me again. And be sure to check out the links to the other participants' BLerapy posts, too. Surely there will be lots of laughs!





In the meantime, I leave you with one of my favorite images---apropos for this time of year:


My kids and I just can't get enough. We're basically watching it once a day.

"Never jump into a pile of leaves with a wet sucker." --Linus

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

We interrupt regularly-scheduled programming to...

bring you a blurb my lil' brother wrote. It was published in today's Times-Picayune, the newspaper of my beloved hometown, New Orleans. Please read it here. Way to go, Mark!

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Jennifer Aniston disappointed of her performance in Love Happens

Jennifer Aniston picture
Jennifer Aniston

Jennifer feels disappointed in her performance in Love Happens.

One source said this about Jennifer “Jen is disappointed at the reaction to Love Happens and accepts she may be the problem. She wants to carry on producing romantic comedies but as an actress she is seeking out roles where she can really change people’s perceptions of her. She may even cut her hair!”

Source

Free Write

The girls are having quiet time and so I'm going to have writing time.

I'm in the kitchen with the windows are open. It's a lovely day, the kind where the trees are dancing, whispering, tossing their leaves with arrogance as if they know of their beauty. The wind rustles and bumps, lifts some papers off my kitchen table that I was trying to organize. Oops. I seem to constantly start one project, but before I can finish it, there's another one that needs my immediate attention. My to-do list is endless, and while I'm great about starting things, I'm not so great about finishing them.

I bought the girls some kiddie rakes and we're going out later to clean up in the yard together. I need to spend more quality time with them. They are almost 4 and I don't know where the time has gone. Yelled at Izzy about something earlier and stopped dead in my tracks. It wasn't all that long ago that I had defective, unresponsive ovaries and I was on all these drugs, a total mess, thinking I'd never even be pregnant. And now there are these two little girls walking around in Fancy Nancy tennis shoes, talking about Halloween, eating peanut butter sandwiches at my kitchen table, brushing the hair back from their faces like they're 13. Abby's getting my toes, Izzy's getting my eyebrows. Little pieces of me. Abby is a little version of Daddy walking around and Izzy is a little me. It's surreal to think that they grew inside of me so long ago. And that I have pictures of them as little embryos. And I have the catheter that they traveled in to get back inside of me, my uterus. Isn't life strange? Isn't it amazing? My kids are living, breathing medical miracles. It's not right to yell at them.

I'm 33. I'm a mother and a wife and a sister and a friend. I'm a daughter, a daughter-in-law, a cousin, a niece, an auntie....but I want to be more. These things are important--they are my life, for sure. But there's something lurking, nesting, brewing underneath my skin. I'm antsy and anxious and I want to be more active. I want to stop living every day just to get through that day. That's the motherhood pose, the mantra in my head that goes, "Just get through today." I don't want to just get through anymore. It's a selfish thing. I do, do, do, all day long for my kids, my husband, other people. But I want and need to do more for myself. I need more time. There's never enough time. Time to sit and do some nothing, time to read, time to write, time to reflect, dream, regroup. Time to get back to being me. Who is that, anyway? She's been paused, on hold, stuffed away, shuffled in and out, wrinkled up and used. Surely I can dust her off, polish her up, and have her be as good as new? But she's different now. Moth-eaten, maybe. Faded. Crusty. A little musty, too.

I did a few slightly rebellious things when I was younger, just for the hell of it, to get out of my boring, goody-two-shoes rut. I have a friend, Laura. I used to baby sit for her three daughters. We became really good friends. She once told me I should get my belly button pierced because she really wanted to, but her husband would never let her. She wanted to live vicariously through me. I was scared, but I thought it would be awfully cool and unusually hip of me. I told her she had to come with me & hold my hand. She did. Can't believe I did it. It hurt a lot. Dan really liked it, too. But I had to take it out when I was pregnant and my belly was getting so huge. And it just never went back in.

When I was in college, my friend Heather and I decided to get matching tattoos. We found a place in the yellow pages and just went, without any preconceived notion of what we wanted. We were so dumb. You'd think we'd have at least gotten Phi Mu letters or something. But no. We picked a matching pink generic-looking, very small flower, and put it on our right hip. My dad was livid. Nevermind that it's the size of a nickel and no one ever sees it!

Another year in college, I got my left earlobe pierced all the way up and also pierced my cartilage. I thought I was such a rebel. After a few years I stopped wearing posts in them and they mostly closed up.

I'm starting to get that rebellious feeling again....and I don't think pink hair will cut it (we have a sitter the girls love and she often has a few strands of pink in her otherwise pale blond hair--it's really fun & cute). But it's different now. I don't know how to explain it. I think writing will solve it, but there's not enough time. Never enough time. Maybe I should start to budget some time. And I suppose blogging counts to a certain extent...at least when I post something thoughtful.

I'm Nobody! Who are you?
Are you Nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us---don't tell!
They'd banish us, you know!

Jennifer Aniston preparing herself for the lost of her dog

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Jennifer Aniston loves her dogs.One of her dog, Norman is suffering some health problems and she has to prepares herself to the loss of her dog soon.

A source says, "Norman is old and hasn't been doing well. She's terrified her best friend could soon be gone."

Source

Post-It Note Tuesday

I loved this so much last week that I'm doing it again. And trying to get better at it. Wanna play along? Check out Supah Mommy's blog here.




















Monday, October 19, 2009

Crummy Day

I've had a really crummy day.

I did (or rather didn't do) something shitty this morning and I can't stop thinking about it.

It reminds me of one of Melanie's recent posts over at Adventures of the Reluctant Housewife, which you can read here. And by the way, follow her!

I was on my way to drop the girls off at school. We were approximately 3-4 blocks away when I spied a young woman sitting alone on the sidewalk across from the hospital (the girls' school is affiliated with the hospital where Hubby works, and is basically around the corner from it). I thought it was interesting that she was sitting, but as I got closer I realized she was crying. Meanwhile, a construction worker was walking towards her (there is construction going on at the hospital). I could see he was facing the same dilemma as I: to stop and try to help her, or not? My windows were open and I could hear her pleading, "Please help me,"and something about her boyfriend leaving her there without her inhaler. She was crying and gasping/gagging and she wailed, "Please help me, I can't breathe!" The man in the car directly in front of me pulled over, too.

I was conflicted because my kids were in the car with me. My gut was telling me this was a normal woman in an unfortunate predicament and she just needed some help. On the other hand, I didn't know her, she could have been mentally unstable or something, and my kids were in the car and I was reluctant to potentially traumatize them.

Melanie's story differs from this in that she was confronted with a child in trouble, and I wouldn't have worried about stepping in there. But this was a grown woman.

In the end, I kept driving. I dropped the girls off at school. On my way back, there was an ambulance parked in the spot where the woman had been.

My heart sank. I felt horribly. I should have stopped. I should have shown some compassion and human decency; after all, the hospital was right there and obviously they came to her aid quickly. Thank goodness those nice men stopped and called 911.

I kept thinking: if it had been me on the side of the road in some kind of trouble, wouldn't I want someone to help me? Clearly the answer is yes.

To the young woman in trouble on 43rd Street this morning: I am truly very sorry. I should have stopped to help you, but I was scared. I hope you're alright and that they were able to help you at the hospital.

What would you have done?

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Jennifer Aniston narrates a children’s audio book

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Jennifer Aniston makes another charity work again. She promised that every purchase of the audio book, $2 will donate to the St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital.

A spokesperson for Aniston said “It is a wonderful story, plain and simple. She did it because she wanted to do it with her dad, as well as she loved the story."

Source

Sunday Stealing--the ABC's of Meme

If you'd like to play along, go here. I love me some Sunday Stealing! Especially when I should be plunging the toilet my daughter just clogged up.


A- Advocate for: Jews, homosexuals, Alzheimer's patients, moms of multiples

B- Best Feature: my boobs. Only because they're not real, you know.

C- Could do without: bad hair days and clogged toilets.

D- Dreams and desires: I want to write a book. It's going to be years, people. I have no idea what it will be like or about. I've recently been thinking something along the lines of "Me Talk Pretty One Day," by David Sedaris. Which, if you haven't already read, you must go get. Now.

E- Essential items: tweezers. laptop. Burt's Bees lotions & products.

F- Favorite past time: reading, writing, blogging. It's a three-way tie.

G- Good at: um, nagging? yelling? making my kids cry?

H- Have never tried: skydiving. Botox. pole dancing. gambling. cocaine.

I- If I had a million dollars: I'd donate a bunch to charity, but would buy a new wardrobe for myself because apparently mine isn't good enough and I "dress like crap."

J- Junkie for: blogging.

K- Kindred spirit: all of my new bloggy buds--you know who you are. Snarkler 2010!

L- Little known fact: I read so well & so voraciously from a young age that when I started 2nd grade, the teachers put me in reading class with the 5th graders. Which worked out well because I remember feeling very bored and frustrated with my peers. They were having trouble reading Dr. Seuss and I had already read Ramona Quimby and Superfudge.

M- Memorable moment: When Hubby's groomsmen dropped me during the Hora at our wedding (the traditional dance when the bride and groom are carried around while seated on chairs). And on the way down from my chair I flashed my lacy white skivvies to all our guests. Super!

N- Never again will I: Dance drunkenly on a table at Cabo Wabo.

O- Occasional indulgence: pie. almost any kind will do, but preferably apple or pumpkin.

P- Profession: mother of twins, aspiring famous writer.

Q- Quote: "Whatever you want to do, or dream you can do, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it." Goethe

R- Reason to smile: It's fall. The leaves are changing. My kids are cute (mostly) and my husband loves me (most of the time).

S- Sorry about: yelling at Izzy for clogging up the terlet.

T- Things you are worrying about right now: whether or not I'll have to call Roto Rooter about this here clogged terlet.

U- Uninterested in: golf, unfortunately for my husband

V- Very scared of: flying roaches and/or the regular variety. Fortunately there aren't many of them in Kansas!

W- Worst habits: self-deprecation

X- X marks my ideal vacation spot: Italy. Have never been there...

Y - Yummiest dessert: pie, but also Bananas Foster, which I haven't made in a very long time.

Z- Zodiac sign: Virgo, baby.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

To Jazzercise or not to Jazzercise? That is the question.

So I've fallen off the Jazzercise wagon lately, what with my handicapped husband, family in town last week, and the Alzheimer's Memory Walk (which I brilliantly decided to run and then suffered several days of soreness afterwards). I reluctantly got back to it this week, but since so many of you are unfamiliar with the ritual, I thought I should take a few minutes to describe it to you.

DISCLAIMER: This is NOT how Jazzercise patrons dress. I must emphasize that the stereotypical image of Olivia Newton John in her "Let's Get Physical" video is not how we roll (I usually sport a tank top and capri pants). So please permanently remove this mental picture from your brains:

It all begins with the yawns. I'm too tired to go. I don't really want to go. Can I think of a good reason (or two) to skip out? Will one of the Anorexic Girls be there today (while I know they are struggling with their demons and they are not healthy, I always feel like they must look at me and think, "Now there's a FATTY!")? And then I have to consider who's teaching...because if it's Miss Red Head With Perfect Piggy Tails I'm A Size Zero, then I can't go. If it's Miss I'm Gonna Give You All A Pep Talk For The Next Hour with, "C'mon, you can do it!" or "Don't you want to work off all the nachos & fries you inhaled over the weekend?" who smiles the entire time, rockets all over the stage like my girls' bouncy balls, all the while maintaining her precious, perfect little hairdo---then I don't wanna go.




There are at least four main types of women at Jazzercise: the obsessive Anorexic Girls who probably go to class 2x/day, 7 days/week; the super-fit & muscled-not-an-ounce-of-fat-on-me girls; the real/average American girls, and the heavier girls. While I definitely appreciate the variety of body shapes & sizes, I don't appreciate the supersized posters of Judy Jazzercise all over the walls. Her eyes follow me while I work out, kinda like the Mona Lisa. Which is not a good thing when I'm huffing and puffing and sweating buckets. I have to wonder: does Judy Jazzercise even eat? Look at her. She's also much too happy. Is anyone truly happy while working out? I'm only happy when I'm done.






I usually opt for a potty break when I hear that seven-minute-long Jazon Mraz song come on. Because that's a good way to shave a few minutes off the really rough ab workout. As I lay the toilet paper out prettily over the toilet seat, I admire myself in the mirror--I love the way my workout pants accent my muffin top. And my calves are so white everyone has to wear shades. While I'm in the bathroom I notice that someone has left quite a mess at the sink. So I take an extra minute to wipe that up, and then I put a new roll of paper towels on the rack. Voila! I've wasted enough time that once I come back out, it's silly to start when the crunches are nearly over!

As a general rule, I always stand in the back row. Then there are significantly fewer opportunities for people to be faced by my fanny. I can also do my daily comparisons and belittle myself, admire others' super cute workout gear, and ogle the perfect girls. It's also a safe way to ensure that I do each routine correctly; it's far easier to watch the people directly in front of me & imitate them rather than to squint at the instructor way up in front. This isn't foolproof, however. I routinely go left when I should be going right, bang into my neighbor and shout "Sorry!" over the pulsing music. Or I'm doing a plié when everyone else is doing a jete. But I'm in the back row, so it's not glaringly obvious. Except to the instructor in the front of the room.

My favorite instructor is Sally. Sally happens to be a real/average American girl like myself. She isn't a pep talk person and she knows how to make the workout more fun. She'll talk about all the crap she ate over the weekend, all the beer she drank, and rant about her husband's latest antics (including a recent debacle with a homemade aquarium that leaked everywhere). She is real. She is not tiny. She sweats buckets like me. She gets tired during the workout like me. I appreciate that sort of thing because it makes me feel more normal. And because she helps me feel that way, I'm more inclined to go, and to seek out the classes she's teaching.
What do you like to do for exercise & how often do you do it? How do you stay motivated & realistic with your goals?

Jennifer Aniston and John Mayer back together again?

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Jennifer Aniston and John Mayer were spotted together again. Are they back again? Sources are saying that they just enjoy each other's company.

They spotted spending a nite together last month at New York City's Bowery Hotel.

Source

Friday, October 16, 2009

awards

Leigh vs. Laundry has bestowed this award upon me and I'm just glowing! Thank you so very much, Leigh. Leigh is a kick and you must check her out immediately by clicking here. Her newest post, Lil Friday, was so cute and it made me want to call all my friends and leave them messages today. Maybe I still will!



The rules of this award require me to list 10 things you may not know about me. So here goes nuthin':


1. When I was in 2nd grade in Houma, LA, I won a spelling bee at Southland Mall. I won a set of giant dictionaries. I still have them.

2. I detest bell peppers. I can't even eat anything else that shared a plate with/touched them.

3. My maiden name is Best. When I was in grade school, some of the kids called me Erin Worst. How original.

4. I am afraid of flying. I am often the lone 30-something woman who cries when there's turbulence.

5. I have unfortunately inherited my dad's ugly toes.
6. I used to get a $2.50 weekly allowance when I was young. I spent most of it on books.

7. I sleep on my stomach. And often drool while doing so.

8. One day I would like to work at Whole Foods.

9. I hate pantyhose. And tights are not the same as pantyhose.

10. I think someone needs to make Spanx for men. Why don't men want to look svelte/desirable?

I want to pass this award along to:


Lee over at Headaches, Hormones, & Hot Flashes

Adventures of a Wanna-Be Supah Mommy

Matty Thoughts

Jennifer at Hope Studios
Holly at 504 Main

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Outraged over this Filippa Hamilton shiggedy--size 4 is fat?

I read this article on model Filippa Hamilton today and immediately flew into a frenzy. Hamilton is 5' 10" and weighs in at a mere 120 pounds (she's a size 4), certainly waif-like by modern standards. She's been fired for being too fat and Ralph Lauren went so far as to alter her appearance in ads---making her head out to be the largest part of her:

It sickens me that women are held up to such impossibly high standards. Why is an anorexic body considered ideal and desirable? More importantly, when was the last time you heard of a male model being airbrushed? And what was Ralph Lauren thinking by tinkering with the photo to this extreme? I think she looks sick and emaciated. It saddens me because these are the ads our young girls see as they flip through the pages of their magazines. They learn that this is the way they are supposed to look.
It's no wonder girls are growing up with Anorexia and Bulimia. It's no wonder that fourth graders are counting calories. It's no surprise that they look in the mirror and feel ashamed of their bodies, which are supposed to have curves. REAL WOMEN HAVE CURVES!
I should follow my own advice because I never like what I see in the mirror. But I'm trying. I confess I'm probably just as susceptible to what I see in magazines...even though I know it's not reality and it's not healthy.
I am trying to focus on my overall strength, health, and what I put into my body, rather than numbers on the scale. I try to go to Jazzercise four times per week, but that doesn't always happen (like this week). I am reading more labels while I'm doing my grocery shopping, and I'm also making an effort to shop the perimeter of the store, rather than the processed junk in the middle. I'm shunning most things with high fructose corn syrup--I used to think I was a rock star for eating Yoplait yogurt. But guess what? It's loaded with artificial junk (including high fructose corn syrup). Not good for you. Did you also know your whole wheat bread probably has high fructose corn syrup in it? For a few days, I challenge you to read the labels on things you like to eat, things your kids like to eat. It's scary when we realize we can't pronounce half the things going into our mouths. I challenge you to make some changes, however small, so that you're taking better care of yourself and your family. Be realistic. Be kind to yourself.
So, shame on you, Ralph Lauren. You are an asshat. You don't get it, and you're as pompous and pig-headed as they come.
As a nation we need to focus more on our health. Surely it's more important that models be healthy and strong instead of scrawny and starving.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Rhys Ifans asked John Mayer for Jennifer Aniston's phone number



British actor Rhys Ifans bump into John Mayer in LA and asked for Jennifer Aniston's number, where John dated her previously.

A source said: "Rhys saw John playing piano and went over. He was very polite about asking for Jen's number and joked that she should have a true poet in her life.

"John found him amusing – but would not divulge the digits."

Source

Post It Note Tuesday---I did it!!








Okay, so it's a lame first attempt. But I'll do better next time, mmmm'kay? The point is that I actually did it my own self. Woohoo! Don't forget to drop by Supah Mommy's blog
to learn more & play along.
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