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If you were at one of our houses, we'd be handing you a stack of glossy gossip mags, a bowl of potato chips, and pouring you one of Chief's famous "Margari-politans," but since you're not, we have badges. We'll be your BFFs if you put some of our bling on your blog. Not that you need it, your blog looks great. Really great.
The badges are green which is why they show up funky on our green background. We're working on that.
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See? This is why I follow Perez on Twitter. Because he posts things like this photo of Dreamy Vampire Robert Pattinson doing weird self-stim sex stuff.
Will RP lose any of his cougar fans with his creepy Buffalo Bill impression? Or will this just make it hotter than a heat flash for the ladies? Somehow, I suspect the latter.
(For those of you with bad memories or just fans of 80s techno, here's the Goodbye Horses scene -- things get crazy around the 2 minute link:"I'd f--- me!")
I'd apologize for posting such porny pix and links, but hey, we're all grownups here.
- Cat/Bad Kitty
Here's the thing. I'm on Facebook because I kinda have to be for my work. But while people gush over it being a timesuck and loving the connections they are making with old school chums, I have to stop and think, "Really?" How is it a timesuck? How does anyone spend more than 5 minutes on Facebook without losing their everloving mind?" Just what exactly is the appeal? Is it the endless quizzes and apps and rating of the ads? Is it the snooping around? The chatting? Because I kinda hate Facebook.
Okay, I admit it. The snooping around can be sorta fun.
I hate that it is a place where my real-life friends, my blog friends, my work associates, my exs, my grade school classmates, people who never talked to me in high school but still want to be my friend, foreign guys who are looking for wives, and my babysitters all collide in one place. That creeps me out so much that I even suspended my Facebook account for awhile. It's not easy to delete it, I tried.
But then I realized that (gah!) as a blogging and social media consultant, I needed to have a Facebook account. There are plenty of big and small companies and individuals implementing lots of cool social media programs on Facebook and I want to know about them. I just don't want to have to make decisions about whether to friend people who I don't know or in some cases, don't like. (I'm 40, I don't feel guilty about not friending you.) I really don't like that people are able to post pictures of me and tag them, especially pictures of me in high school. (I do appreciate the untag feature, though.) I don't like that it is morphing into something that is starting to closely resemble my beloved Twitter.
I'm almost 40. I left high school behind when I was 17. If I knew you in high school and we still talk, then I appreciate the fact that our friendship has lasted throughout the years. If I didn't and you're trying to be my friend on Facebook, well, that creeps me out a little. I know that it may seem like I live a pretty open life because I blog about certain aspects of it, but really, I like my boundaries. Maybe that's what 40 is, the year of better, bigger, boundaries. And a little less Facebook.
—Stefania/CityMama
"If this is what 40 looks like, bring it on baby." —Melanie Notkin (at her 40th birthday party)
To the savviest Savvy Auntie: For following your dreams and launching a successful media empire during some very tough times, for involving your community every step of the way, for providing a place where PANKs can come together to share ideas and gush, for being a positive presence both online and off, for showing everyone what a force a 40-year-old woman can be, we raise our glasses of champagne to you. In the immortal words of LL Cool J, Melanie Notkin is doin' it very well. Clink!
—Stefania/CityMama
Photo courtesy Melanie Notkin. Used with permission.
Born: 25 September 1969
Catherine Zeta Jones' wikipedia entry says she was born in 1969. That would mean she turns forty this September.
Cough-cough-bullshit!
Sure, she's beautiful for any age. How many mothers of an eight and five year old look this good?
And you kind of have to love a woman who gets photographed sunbathing topless -- and smoking -- while pregnant. You just know the hand we can't see is holding a wine glass!
But for some reason the rumors swirl around her -- she lies about her age (by as much as 10 years), she's had a boob job (um, maybe a lift?), and of course Botox (obviously!)
Either way, she's "celebrating" the same year as us. I guess she's making 40 look good. Or maybe she's making 50 look amazing!
- Cat/Bad Kitty
Meet Chris Mann, a guy who is trying REAL HARD to be the next big thing.
With moms.
This crooner (who has the "close your eyes and sing" thing down pat) has been making the rounds of the mommy blogger conference circuit lately, something I find, well, absolutely creepy. Mann is obviously being handled by peeps who are not only tapped into social media (he Twitters!) but who are tapped into the mom scene as well. You can almost hear the "Moms control 80% of household spending" mantra being whispered in his ear every time his fingers fondle his iPhone. "Keep Twittering, Chris. This is your audience. Forget about the hot teenage daughters, their moms are the ones who will be swiping their debit cards to buy your CDs at Walmart! Tweet them, Chris! Tweet them!"
I was subjected to all kinds of gushy Tweets about him from the women his MannFans at the BlissDom conference (And gosh! Not one of them mentioned anything about his penis!) and then, much to my dismay, he was the featured entertainment at one of the Mom 2.0 Summit parties.
We were all having a great time drinking hurricanes, socializing, and bouncing to 80's DJ music. (Our music.) Nothing kills a party vibe (and the will to converse) faster than acoustic artists no one has ever heard of singing sad, lonely songs no one has ever heard of. "Help," I texted to my BFF Bad Kitty who was home in San Francisco. "I'm in emo hell." She copped a look at Mann's photo and texted back, "You mean the guy with his razor set to pussy?" Exactly. Don't get me wrong, I had a great time at Mom 2.0, but I was looking for the bus back to the hotel at the first pluck of Mann's guitar string. Note to party planners: Next year, no entertainment needed.
Anyway, Chris Mann appears to be the latest cougar bait for women of a certain age. We'll take a pass. We're happy with the old cougar bait. Like the one below.
—Stefania/CityMama
Hey Girl!
born January 31, 1981
That's a Cougar Den skit I'd like to see : Justin Timberlake besieged by the SNL gals of a certain age. Maybe he could dance a little, too. And take his shirt off. The ladies would swoon, recover, and drag him behind the couches for some dry humping.
Hey, it would be funny because it's true. Especially the dry part.
- Cat/Bad Kitty
That's me in junior high, and approximately how old I feel most days. Before you ask, yes, I have big plans to sell that vintage high collar shirt on eBay. The 80s are back!
For the past couple of years, as my friends turn 40, the big thing has been, "Oh, yeah, I got my mammogram. It hurt/was a non-event/I have to go get a biopsy."
So far my immediate circle of friends have all been okay in the long run, but a few of them have gone through the giant needle biopsy, and even chemo/mastectomy/radiation.
It sucks, but breast cancer isn't the automatic death sentence it used to be. Still, it's not something you want to deal with on top of doing your taxes and shit.
I'm probably fine -- I do self-exams, and my family doesn't have a history of it. So that's not why I can't get around to setting up my mammogram appointment. At least, I don't think so.
It's probably something about not believing that I'm finally old enough to need one.
Maybe on my birthday, or maybe when I finally get my mammogram, This Forty Thing will finally sink in. Until then, I feel somewhere between 13 to 17ish, depending on the day and how good my bangs are feathering.
