Hottt Yoga

Every time I try a new type of exercise, I become convinced that I will awake the next morning suddenly transformed into a size 6, with long flowing locks and perfect skin. It becomes perfectly logical to me that through one hour of the latest exercise craze, I will become Jessica Alba's twin overnight. (Influenced by negative media stereotypes? Moi? NEVER.)

In keeping with that hope, I'm trying Bikram Yoga tonight for the first time ever. Bikram Yoga, for those who don't know, is yoga done in a room at 105 degrees Fahrenheit and 40% humidity. So basically I'm going to try to pretend that I'm doing yoga in Florida.

Considering I hate Florida, weather that gets over 80 degrees, and, well, exercising, we'll see how this goes. All I have to say is if some dude tries to do this to me, I'm outta there faster than he can snap on that headband in the morning.

Review to come tomorrow.

Crap-pops and STD's

AHH! My dog... not exactly a lady on her best of days... has become 100 times grosser since the cold snap. I can't believe that I am discussing this on here, but I need group therapy. Daisy has started eating other dogs' poop! I don't know if they are a nice refreshing snack, a 'poopsicle' if you will, or if she feels she's just not getting enough sustenance at home, but this, if for no other reason, is a valid enough cause to pick up your dog crap every single time.

10 to 1 some of Daisy's recent tasty treats are from that annoying bitch that walks her dog off-lead every day, and yet darts to her dog and pulls it into the nearest alley when she spies Daisy and I walking from a block away, then proceeds to give me the stink eye the entire time I'm passing by her. Then again I just don't like her, so I'll pin anything on that one.

Anyway, I need a diversion. Lucky for me, the world has provided Amy Winehouse. Hooray!! The Sun has been reporting on her quite a bit in the last couple of days. Apparently, on Thursday, Methtaculous, who's been hospitalized for the last 10 days, received a farewell visit from her husband, who's headed back to prison after failing out of rehab. Apparently the couple wanted to give the hospital's disease control department a run for it's money and had some mad hospital bed sex. I shudder to think of these two bonybirds going at it.

Now today it's reported that Amy broke out of the hospital last night to "record some new music". BWAAAAAAAAA HA HA HA!!! Anyone remember the last time Amy Winehouse entered a recording studio? I do. It was October... no music was recorded, but the devil did give Amy drugs.

Do I have a Post-It On My Forehead?

My weight is a battle I am ever waging. I have a vision that the day my thighs drop the saddlebags and the jiggling of my upper arms no longer causes the butterfly effect, I will magically meet any one of my imaginary boyfriends (Lee Pace, I'm looking at you tonight), and he will fall in love with me instantly, from across a crowded room. Naturally, as we're walking towards each other, eyes alight with finding our soul mate in each other, a giant, many-tentacled alien will destroy the planet. Such is my luck.

Wait, where was I? Oh right... I'm fat. Anyway, I've been hanging with the peeps at Jenny Craig lately, and have been losing some weight. Yay! The downside, people have eyeballs. When people notice things, they love to talk about the things they notice. Somehow, in the Great American Lexicon of Poor Manners, I missed the chapter that a change in your appearance becomes an open invitation to random passersby to dissect your personal style.

I am completely flabbergasted by the nerve of my co-workers- indeed, some people with whom I have NEVER spoken- to come up to me and discuss not only my weight, but my hair (color, cut, whether I wear it up or down), my makeup (my particular favorite was being called "dewy, but too heavy on the eyemakeup"), whether I look better with glasses or contacts, the clothes that I wear, the collection of shoes under my desk, what I eat ("is that Jenny approved?" Who knows? Keep working on those curly fries). It's like working on a noticeable flaw gives people carte-blanche to point out everything that is wrong with you. Settle down people, I'm rehabbing the kitchen, not rebuilding the house.

Throughout these overweening conversations, I inexplicably find myself dumbstruck, smiling and trying to explain my fashion choices to my meddling turkey of a conversant. Why of course I DO look better with my hair down. You're right, I should go and buy hairdye tonight! Better yet, I'll do it at lunch!

It's only after these overfamiliar exchanges have taken place and the intrusive peck has walked away from my desk that I feel the sting of the back-handed insult buried in there.

It brings me to ask, if this is you with a filter, what are you really thinking? However, I often wonder whether or not people really do have a filter when it comes to situations like this. People genuinely think they are being helpful, and tact doesn't come into play when giving unsolicited advice. People blurt out whatever alights on the gentle breezes of their minds.

For all my self-righteous indignation, I'm no exception. I am an overly-opinionated bossy boots with enough knowledge to talk about anything, and abounding gall to fake what I don't know. So where does this verbal diarrhea come from? Why do we feel compelled to say whatever is on our minds about how others live their peaceable existences, without any regard for what is likely a carefully thought out personal choice?

Simple- we always think we're right. It is human nature to judge others by our own pushy, self-assertive life code. It is inconceivable to think that others live by an equally effective, though disparate set of choices/values/plans. This is the delicate eggshell-thin construct of our own EGO. We are constantly checking the mental checklist of our life (choices, actions, experiences) against those of other people. Are we normal? Are we appropriate? Are we right?

Deep down, I know that most people don't have vicious intentions when scrutinizing every aspect of my being. For most, it is a message of solidarity, their way of showing that they are supportive of my lame attempts at self-improvement. I just wish that I could be going through rehab or something less noticeable... maybe then Joyce would keep her hands to herself and not pull the top of my shirt up: "You're a pretty girl. You don't need to rely on your tits. Cover those up."

Mmmmm... Pie...

I won't give a full review of last night's Pushing Daisies today, seeing as how BFF hasn't watched it yet, and I don't want to give anything away. Plus, she's probably the only one of my readers that actually watches the show. Philistines. (Just kidding!!! But it is a REALLY good show and you're totally missing out.) Suffice it to say, "Comfort Food" was probably one of my favorite episodes to date. Muffin Buffalo cameoed from Wonderfalls! Deep fried Colonel Likkin! Naughty jokes concerning finger likkin donut holes!

I am delighted about the "food = love" concept of Pushing Daisies. Food is often a substitute for sex between Chuck and Ned, but the theme of unrequited love and the need for, well, comfort food was back and stronger than ever in this episode as Olive and Ned compete for the Best In Belly prize at the Comfort Food Competition. This show has layers, people, like the delicate flaky crust of the PieMaker's speciality.

Anyway, enough gabbing about PD. On to mocking celebrities!!! It seems Pete from Fall Out Boy was destined to be a theme this week... first I give him a shout out regarding his name cameo on One Tree Hill (though JAX did point out that he did have a few appearances on the show), and now he's in the news dishing about the fact that his lady love Ashlee Simpson is a vapid whore that he'd have left in his tiny-man dust cloud if he hadn't knocked her up.


Details reports:

"And then there's the ultimate brand extension, the one guaranteed to propel Wentz into a whole new sphere of exposure: Bronx Mowgli Wentz, the son he and his wife, Ashlee Simpson, welcomed into the world on November 20. When Wentz found out Simpson was pregnant, he was in Chile with Fall Out Boy, preparing to play a show in nearby Antarctica. "I was like, 'Oh my God, this might be the worst possible time to have this conversation,'" he says. Perhaps to make sure the news had sunk in, Simpson promptly e-mailed a snapshot of the pregnancy test. (Us Weekly, eat your heart out). "I was definitely scared," Wentz says, "just thinking, This is something that's going to exist for the rest of your life and you can't f*%k it up."
Wentz allows that the pregnancy was unplanned. 'It was a happy accident,' he says. 'But I think that certain things happen for a reason in your life, and maybe it was time to put the wild child in a cage.'"

Then just yesterday, while riding downstairs in my elevator at work, I saw a quote from him regarding being on the red carpet with NoseJob McGee:

"It's like I'm like her purse."

Wow- that's love. Soul mates, indeed. Of course, he is a Wilmette-bred New Trier boy... this sort of resigned WASP acceptance of a loveless marriage "for the kids" fits his upbringing to a T.

I Feel Cheated!

Gossip Girl, I'm disappointed in your epic FAIL of a stunt cast!! Last night had Nastia Luikin's big guest spot premiere... and it was literally 12 seconds of air time!! She just walked by Chuck Bass... her only line was a smile and to say "uh huh" at the Snowflake Charity Ball. I expected more from you, GG. I expected her to die in some tragic accident involving Blair in a drunken rage, pushing her off a balcony, or at the VERY least be one of the many Mona Lisa smiling ladies exiting Chuck's room in the morning. But NOOOO... you just have her walk by the camera. LAME.

You should have taken a page from One Tree Hill's book. They stunt casted people's NAMES. Remember when they kept throwing Pete from Fall Out Boy's name into the script? I don't even think he was ever on the SHOW and they managed to do a better job than you. They didn't even use his full name- they just kept calling him Pete from Fall Out Boy!!

Incidentally... Snowflake Charity Ball as the Page Six event of the season for high school seniors?? Hardly! It looked like 40 bored extras badly dancing in a sound stage. Your barwork is usually so much better than this tripe. Where are the hangers on? The velvet ropes? The entrance scenes, showing the un-invited rabble?

I also am perplexed by the "cruel prank" that Jenny pulled on Vanessa (by the way, J's eyeliner is starting to lighten up... back from rebel territory, after all?). Surely your writers could have come up with something better than Vanessa being backlit in a dress with *GASP* no lining! Come on- Britney Spears shows more vag than that while waiting in line at the Starbucks for crying out loud!

I'm feeling underwhelmed, GG. I didn't fight for dual tuner Tivo only to have you get all sweet and moral on me here. Let's do better next week. It DOES look like there's a funeral, and the hint that Chuck may be involved in his father's death, so you're showing some promise... let's not disappoint, ok?

Schizo Showdown!

It looks like Amy Winehouse may soon have a fight on her hands to retain the title "High Priestess of Crazytown".

Britney Spears' new documentary aired last night, and despite the sycophantic laughter of the vultures that surround her, it's clear that her behavior is becoming erratic once more. Wow, that sounded so professional of me. Here's what I meant to say: you can tell she's bought a ticket on the Looney Express and will soon be lip-synching Womanizer nekkid at Whiskey A Go Go, slathered in Big Mac sauce.

The Daily Mail reports:

In a scene filmed as she was making her video for comeback single 'Womanizer', Britney told friends: 'I'm going to write the man of my dreams on my arm.
'I'm going to get married next year and have babies. Watch!'
She later told how when she falls in love she 'can't get enough' and 'gives my all' to her man.

The pop princess said: 'That would be heaven for me, to have my kids on an island and a man and no-one could get to us.
'That's my thing. When I really love somebody I really love somebody. I give my all.
'I can't get enough. I need to be around them all the time.

'It's just the best feeling in the world when they give me that feeling.'
Britney teased she will eventually write a tell-all autobiography, saying: 'I will have a good book one day, a good mysterious book.'
She insisted she has no regrets - and told how she is avoiding the 'threatening situations' that have caused her such turmoil, declaring: 'I go through life like a Karate Kid.'
But the 'Toxic' singer broke down in tears as she lamented her 'lonely' life, despite apparently putting her public meltdown behind her.
She told how she feels too controlled and said: 'You can't really go there in a complete state of happiness because you're scared it's going to be taken away.'So it's better just not to feel anything at all and to have hope to feel the other way....
'When I tell people the way I feel they hear me, but they're really not listening.
'They hear what they want to hear. They don't really listen to what I'm telling them.
She started to sob as she added: 'It's bad. I'm sad.'

I, for one, am rooting for Amy Winehouse when the Barmy Battle of 2009 (I love alliteration!!) breaks out...mostly because Britney's got too many people that actually DO want to make sure she stays on her meds.

My November to Remember

phew!! I am exhausted. This November has been the social season I never thought I'd have in my life. Two weddings, three plays and operas, getting stood up by Pseudograndma, Twilight/BFF extravaganza, Thanksgiving and two birthdays, all crammed into four little weeks. To top it all off, I am, yet again, sick as a dog and can't hear a bloody thing... stupid head cold. My neighbors probably hate me, because I am listening to my TV at top volume.

SPEAKING of which, yes, I did get cable this weekend. Is it hypocritical of me, after railing against it for so long, to be mildly disappointed that I didn't really get more channels? I was starting to become excited by the idea that I would have BBC America and Cartoon Network. However the only channels I seemed to have picked up with my new "cheap as it can get" cable package are MSNBC and TBS. I was more than a little disappointed to realize that I have a TV lineup that now includes cyclical showings of Tim Allen in The Santa Clause and Jungle 2 Jungle.

Oh well. I spent all of yesterday catching up on my Tivoed network shows from the last week, and it took most of the day, so I suppose that I have enough to go on. Plus, joy of joys... my new Tivo records two shows at the same time! Gossip Girl and Chuck, there is equality among you!

Only four more episodes of Pushing Daisies to be had, before I have a glaring hole in my heart where a Bryan Fuller show should be. After watching last week's episode, I've become really down-hearted and frustrated with ABC for pulling the show without giving it any promotional effort whatsoever. There hasn't been an ad for a Pushing Daisies show on ABC since the season premiered in October. I'm gobsmacked that ABC is so ready to give up on a show that garnered 12 Emmy nominations in it's abbreviated first season (especially to revive a dead, seven year old show from another network!), so forgive me while I jump on my soapbox.

It's a rare show that doesn't become formulaic and lazy, and Pushing Daisies continues to surprise me with each episode. While we usually know the "killah-killah" from the beginning of the episode, the writers of the show continue to delight me with how they manage to bump people off, and the slowly unfolding mystery of Ned and Chuck's fathers and their relationship with Dwight Dixon has me wondering. The show's simple, goofy, deliciously naughty moments delight me ("stakeouts are only fun if there are enough binoculars for everyone", the comment about Emerson Cod's tight balls... of yarn, Ned's complete oblivion to key parties), and the subtle jokes abound, and there are always a few that I find myself laughing about 10 minutes after they've aired-such as the brief(and entirely non-verbal) moment where the Pie Maker realizes just what the dead millionaire meant by "trophy room".

There's a part of me that doesn't want to finish watching the show, knowing that I will only be incredibly disappointed by an unsatisfactory ending to the several character arcs that have begun to bloom on the show. Naturally there's a much larger part of me that wants to smack that unloyal, nasty part of myself about the face, and I know that not only will I loyally finish out the season, I'll most likely be buying the DVD when it comes out.

Oh well. Screw originality on TV. When looking for something new to take Pushing Daisies place in my own personal TV lineup, I can only hope that we'll get a new procedural crime drama soon. I sure could use another one... I'm by no means satisfied with just CSI, CSI: Miami, CSI: New York, Law and Order, Law and Order: Special Victims Unit, Law and Order: Criminal Intent, Criminal Minds, NCIS, Without a Trace, Cold Case, The Mentalist, The Unit, Eleventh Hour, Life On Mars, Numbers, Bones, Fringe, My Own Worst Enemy.