1. This is a dangerous time of year for me. First, I like to shop. Second, I like to shop online. And third, this is a time I can spend without feeling QUITE so guilty because I am buying for other people. It’s like a perfect storm of retail. Add in the fact that my email inbox is packed with special offers (oh, they know I am weak) and really, I do best when I am nowhere near a computer. But I write on a computer for a LIVING, so this is kind of hard. The nice thing about online shopping, though, is you can play the Crate and Barrel game and take it a step further. What’s the Crate and Barrel game, you ask? Well. It’s something I came up with back in my waitressing days, when I would get the latest C&B catalog and just DROOL over it. I was living in a run down country house with a kitchen that had a stove with two burners busted at any given moment. But I liked to pretend I lived in a big house that needed furnishing. So after a long night on my feet, I’d sit down with my adult beverage (as Sam Champion would say) pull out my catalog, and go through it from front to back, marking everything I was going to buy for my imaginary house. I know, I know. Sort of lame. But it was better than watching Baywatch (which is other thing I did after work back in those days). When I was done, and had all my stuff marked, it was like I’d really done the shopping. Sort of. So now, online, I do the same thing, but with my virtual carts. I have carts all over the internet, people. I’m not ashamed. I put things in them, take them out, debate what sizes/colors/quantities people would like. Then I abandon them with the click of a mouse. Which, I figure, is MUCH better than leaving an actual cart somewhere for somebody to have to deal with. Right?
2. I know you are all still laughing at me about my Baywatch admission. Sadly, it is true. What can I say? I’d get home from work around 11, smelling of Mexican food, and take a shower. My husband (then my boyfriend) who was on a framing crew, had to be up by 5:30 or 6, so he was already asleep. So it was just me and the dogs and I was always too keyed up to go to bed just yet. Enter Baywatch. Oh, the shame. I watched it a LOT. Even worse? One night, after a couple of adult beverages, I saw the one where Stephanie drowned. Totally did not see it coming and….started crying. BAWLING. Oh, God, I can’t believe I am admitting this. It is worse than the Crate and Barrel game! I could maybe forget about this except for the fact that I also called my friend Bianca, still crying, to tell her about it, and she will NEVER let me live it down. Why am I telling you this now? I have no idea. Moving on!
3. Something I am not ashamed to admit in the least: my love for Jake Gyllenhaal. Oh, dear goodness, he is so lovely. And that was even BEFORE I read the EW with him and Anne Hathaway on the cover. People: he cooks. Sa-woon! It’s not enough to be gorgeous and funny and self-deprecating, but he also makes his own breadcrumbs. I mean, that’s just not fair. I so hope Taylor Swift appreciates him. I really want to see Love and Other Drugs, if only because I stare at him unabashedly for two hours and call it necessary. Okay, I’ll shut up now.
4. You might wonder, reading the above item, why I am reading an EW that is, like, a couple of weeks old. Well. Here’s another embarrassing admission: I’m kind of weird about my magazines. I like to read them from cover to cover, even if it means—and lately it always means—I get really, really behind. You know you are in trouble when you are reading a weekly entertainment magazine and the TV listings are for, like, last month. Whoops! If it wasn’t for Megan McCafferty and her Twitter, I wouldn’t have even known Celebrity Rehab started last night. And that’s just sad. (That I wouldn’t have known, not that I watch Celebrity Rehab. All right, all right. That’s sad, too.) I know I should read magazines like a normal person, i.e. flipping past the articles that don’t fully interest me, but it’s really hard. I don’t want to miss anything! Honestly. Leave it to me to make even reading for pleasure into something guilt-based. Hello, therapy!
5. Finally, big happenings: my daughter has been asked to be a flower girl. Sob! My husband’s cousin is getting married this summer, and he and his bride to be said they’d love for her to be part of the Big Day. My first thought was, “So cute!” and my second one was, “But…she won’t even let me brush her hair. Or look at the camera when you’re taking a picture. And what if she won’t go down the aisle?” They sent me a link to some dresses to choose from and they are all so incredibly cute. Satin sashes, tulle skirts, little girls with perfect hair, holding baskets of rose petals. I just keep thinking of my kid, who thinks picking her nose is hysterical and the other day asked me to “hook her up” with another pancake. (Oh, Daddy. What am I doing to do with you?) Somehow, these two worlds will collide and hopefully mesh. My cousin Emily suggested I get her the book “Lilly’s Big Day,” which is all about being a flower girl, so I’m doing that. Now I just have to figure out how to make her cooperate when the day actually comes. Bribery? Prayer? We will be in a church, after all. Luckily I have awhile to work it out. The truth is, I was a flower girl when I was six and I loved it, remember it SO well. So it will be special, in one way or another. I just hope it’s NOT because she’s the one picking her nose in the pictures. Give me strength.
Have a great weekend, everyone!