After this week, I really really appreciated this. Click here to watch Sarah Silverman's gift of song to her boyfriend Jimmy Kimmel. If you watch his show you'll get it. If you don't, you will laugh anyway. Enjoy your Friday sing-a-long!
So there we were racing to get to AT&T Park. Late. San Francisco traffic was not cooperating. Barry was already onstage when we took our seats. Dammit! Once in the venue I looked around and realized the entire ball park was empty. Then I looked down onto the field and saw that it was because most of seats were huddled around the ice skating rink. Righteous.
We also realized that we were the youngest people there by like 30 years. And we're not that young. We took our seats next to a group of ladies that I can only describe as die-hard Dorothy Hamill fans/seasoned alcoholics who spent the entire evening talking about how they all used to have her haircut. Yes, Dorothy still has it, but damn. Girl looks fabulous. I mean, she looks pretty much how she looked in 1976 except her skirts are at a more "age-appropriate" length now.
Then the crowd starts chanting, "Barry, Barry, Barry!" a chant that we're used to hearing in that ball park except they weren't cheering for a steroid-injected homerun hitter, they were cheering for the man who writes the songs that make the whole world sing.
Continue reading "How was Barry Manilow + Brian Boitano? Magical. Of course." »
My mom (privacy protected) emails me today telling me she's going to lunch with the famous person above (among others). Then, three hours later, this photo hits my in box.
Who did my mom have lunch with?
First person to guess correctly wins one of the books I've recently been sent for review. (Too many to list here, we can discuss via email.)
On Tuesday I was at the mall in Palo Alto, CA, Bevin's city of residence, and who do I spy getting out of her car? Bevin!
I must say I was giddy. And damn proud of my mad celeb-spotting skillz, yo. Finally, all those years of reality T.V. watching are put to practical use! Plus the previous night's show was fresh in my mind. I spotted her in a hot-second.
I got Bunny and Wallie out the car and we made our way to Starbucks to meet Lia and Christina for brekkie, and there she was again! Getting a coffee!
Girls, lemme tell you. She looked bummed out. She had that shell-shocked look on her face of someone whose life has been irreparably ruined by a reality T.V. show. If I were a betting women, my money would be on Tessa to win. Someone that looked like she was crying on the inside prolly didn't get the final rose.
Too bad, though, because she is quite striking IRL. Much prettier than on TV and very petite.
Weird thing was she had a cast on her ankle and was wearing a teetery stilleto on the other foot. Let that marinate for a moment. As if being hobbled by a cast wasn't enough, let's pair that with a high heel. Serves her right for not staying off that ankle.
Guys, she may be looking for a date. If you hang out at the Stanford Shopping Center Starb's you just might get your chance.
On the way down the Southern California on Friday, I was all "Woohoo! No kids for the day!" Before the flight Beth, Charlene and I bought a stack of trashy mags and spent the entire flight doing our own Oscar red carpet commentary. Seriously. The E! Channel should hire us next year.
On the way home, I was willing the plane to fly faster. Plus the guy next to me had his arms crossed the entire flight which had me leaning into the aisle for 50 minutes because I don't like touching strangers. When I arrived home, I found J. and the girls snuggled up on the couch watching a movie and they barely looked up. They had so much fun with Pops they didn't have time to miss me.
How was the meeting? Short (and marked by the most egregious meeting hijack I have ever witnessed), but it was nice to briefly catch up with other bloggers and even nicer to finally meet others that I've admired from afar.
Next time I travel, family comes with. As much as I talk a good talk about wanting a vacation away from my kids, it's all bullshit. I'm not ready.
I was really hoping. Really really hoping that Wallie would stay in her crib until she was 27. Then we moved here and her crib (which was my crib, you can read about its bittersweet history here) wouldn't fit down the hallway.
So, until we get a dog crate bed and baby gate, she's sleeping on her mattress on the floor. For the record, I'd just like to say that naps? No problem. She walks herself into her room, snuggles up, goes to sleep. But putting her to bed? Is a fucking nightmare the likes of which we haven't seen since we had nursing newborns in the house.
Last night she was up running around until 10:45PM. Bedtime is 7:00PM. And she is TI-YERD at 7:00PM. Nothing scares the pants off you more than when you are armpit-deep in a box unpacking dishes in a completely silent house, and suddenly, a little body is hovering over your shoulder.
You know on SuperNanny when the parents have to silently return their kids to their beds 47 times until they are so exhausted they fall asleep? That was us last night. And the entire time, Wallie was laughing at us. Threatening to take away privileges had no effect. Threatening to turn the lights off and shut the door (she likes lights on, door open) had no effect. Telling her she wouldn't get to go to the park today? Nada. Telling her she could stay home later in the week when her sister goes to visit her friends' new kitty? Rolled off like water off a duck's back.
She finally fell asleep just shy of 11PM. Then at 1:00AM she crawled into our bed. At 2:30 she woke up screaming from a bad dream. That woke Bunny up who had to be put back to bed (for the second time, she woke up once before from all of Wallie's stomping around). At 4:30 Wallie needed water, and at 7:00 Bunny finally joined the party.
I haven't had a solid night's sleep since we moved two weeks ago. And as much as I love making, growing, birthing, and snuggling babies...fuck. that. We're done.
says People magazine just now getting to the stale goss that everyone already knew last week.
"Just in" time, too, because tonight, I'm going to see JT bring sexy back. If you read something on Perez tomorrow about how Justin TImberlake was seen backstage sweet talkin' a drunk woman old enough to be his mother and her two friends (one also drunk, one the pregnant DD) then you'll know who he's talkin' 'bout. Wink, wink.
You know it.
We interrupt all the political blogging for what may be the best news anyone is going to get this election day: Britney finally came to her senses and dumped that no-talent loser. Finally, he can fade away into obscurity where he belongs. I bet Shar Jackson is laughing her ass off right now.
By the way, if you want a good laugh, take a look at how people are tagging Federjerk's album on Amazon. (Click through all the pages. Thanks, Tracey!)
What a couple days it's been on the talk show circuit. First it's Kirstie in a bikini on Oprah, then it's Brit-Brit's surprise appearance on David Letterman, then another Oprah coup: LiLo saying she's not that into partying...uh huh. My DVR is blowing up trying to keep up with all this action.
Let me be the first to say, "Welcome back, Britney!" Everyone knows she's preparing for the comeback to top all comebacks, and I, for one, cannot wait.
So far so good.
She actually looks clean for the first time in years.
I bet no one is happier about all this hub-bub than Madonna.
P.S. No on 85!
