Good mom?

Now that I'll be working from home, I have been very seriously (and very stupidly, I guess) considering the prospect of adopting a pooch.  Even though pets are contraband in my building, I know for a fact that at least ONE long-haired chihuahua is living there without a green card.  My mom is readying her [rental]nest for a little cockabichon named Olive; my dad owns a little fat dachshund named Boone; all this goggie business just makes me ache for one.  I have been trying to think of small breeds that are dynamic and easy to maintain, but still look idiotic.  I'm leaning toward a Scottish terrier - the one good thing that lived in the White House between 2001 and 2008.

I mean, really.  I dare you to watch ten seconds of these chubby little fluffy sacks of coal and not want to sell your soul.  Eye-melting preciousness particularly sets in around 1:40.  You've been warned.

Ask Paris her thoughts on...

There's more to Paris Hilton than you'd think.

I do not want to put my name on this blinky recap.

To be honest I wasn't sure whether I was watching an installment of Real Housewives last night or an episode of Gossip Girl. Which naturally meant: It's Fashion Weeeeeek! Everyone acted irrationally catty and stupid self-deluded, not unlike the behavior espoused at the Chilton Academy. The girls are all fully settled back in Manhattan, but Ramona promised to renew a little piece of the Hamptons when she swore to Jill that she'd cut a rug at the upcoming charity gala. You've just made me the happiest little girl in the whole wide world, Ramona.

Here are some notable gems from last night:

1. Quoth Simon: "Well, if you're going to get pregnant, it's not going to be from me! You know, since I was surgically altered for that NOT to happen." ... at Silex's exclusive designer fitting for Fashion Week. Which was at a tiny store probably on Driggs Avenue that sells moderately expensive lines like Free People and Betsy Johnson but doesn't really carry "one-of-a-kinds" by any original designer. In any case, Simon still found it necessary to announce to perfect strangers that when he does have TOTALLY heterosexual sex with his wife and he's TOTALLY not thinking about Hugh Jackman, they won't have to worry about popping out any more Little Lord Fauntlery's. Since he HAD A VASECTOMY, YOU GUYS! Silex then talked about how chic Williamsburg was, as an admirable hotbed of "under 30's" art and fashion. Then the two of them went to pound back $1 PBRs at a nearby dive bar and joined a rousing game of kickball in McCarren Park.
2. Quoth Jill: "Put a brawrawn." ... regarding how she thinks grown women should dress, especially at things like her Zang Toi luncheon presentation to which she was very careful to only invite "women that can spend that kind of money." Jill has license to act totally snooty about shit like this, because this was a personal event thrown in her honor at a legitimate designer showroom, and not a camera crew indulging Alex and Simon while they try crap on at Chico's or wherever. Also, Jill lost all stuffy edge of pretense when she acted like a totally embarrassing Jewish mother at the luncheon, whipping out her digital camera and yelling at all the designs, shouting conversations across the table, and flapping her arms in pride of what Toi had "designed for her" (which was really just a great necklacke with an LBD, that, yeah, wasn't really designed for her, but God love her anyway). Earlier, she was waddling around the studio and singing like a bird when she squeezed herself into a "size 0." Sigh. And this is why Jill is the undisputed Champion of Awesome.
3. Quoth Bethenny: "OK, so... that happened, so let's go over here!" ... after Kelly completely and suddenly walked away from Bethenny mid-sentence at the Jill Stuart show, when someone famous passed by her line of sight. Bethenny reacted to such utter booshit by making a "this bitch is wackadoo" face and floating magnificently down the hall of the Public Library, Blackberry and friend in tow. Later she revealed that Kelly sucks not only because she's the poster child for horrid chemical peels, but also because Kelly acted like a total Lohan around Bethenny's boyfriend a few years back. You know, once Kelly woke up from a three-day bender and scoped the room for a committed man to steal. And then tried to tempt him with talk of how she knew Diddy's publicist and could probably hook him up with a table at Bungalow 8 and a few bottles of Ciroc if he's interested.
4. Quoth Kelly: "Oh? You have arthritis? Oh, that's cute!" ... to Jill's daughter at the planning meeting for Jill's arthritis benefit. Kelly sort of took the whole opportunity to help not unlike a queen bee in high school would take the requirement that she work on a science project with five nerds during the weekend. She waltzed in half an hour late, mostly because of all those other charities and obligations she tries so hard NOT to "lend her name to," and then immediately yelled out that she didn't want to be cochair, because, ohmigawd that's like... social suicide! (Oh wait, maybe I'm thinking of "Mean Girls.") But, seriously, no offense you guys, she REALLY wants to help out because this little girl is adorable (cut to 16-year-old Ally glaring through her eyeliner), but she just like, you know, it's like, whatever! Kelly ultimately extrapolates that she would rather invest her integrity to interviewing socialites, writing for magazines, and being photographed at parties to bolster someone's PR, than do charity work. Oh another place she invests her integrity is all over her ex-fiance's face. Just sayin.

Bling!

Bromance

In an effort to prevent two blinky recap posts in a row, and after a very dull weekend, and not wanting to write an epic missive about this movie, I'm just going to say two things about "I Love You Man," which I saw on Friday and was pleased at how non-Judd-Apatow-y it turned out to be.

1. Paul Rudd is absolutely. adorable. Watching him play doting fiancé trying to be cool with slangy nonchalant COOL GUY sayings made me want to sew him a teddy bear stuffed with my tears and smiles.

2. I want to marry Jason Segal, spend 15 hours a day with him in bed watching Colbert and drinking Bud Light, and mother two of his awesomely funny, really tall kids. I remember this guy from the best show ever created and killed too soon, and I'm so pleased to see that he and his cast mates from said show are receiving awesome cinematic retribution. Segal was great in this movie - he was fun and uncensored and goofy and big as a boulder and had a puggle and wore Uggs and a scarf on Venice Beach with this outfit. Yum.

Le recap blinqué, 18 de mars!

Oh brother.  If there wasn't a bible to write about this episode then I ain't a legal midget in two states.  Let's even forget LuAnn's contra-feminist Edith Wharton rules of dating and feminism, shall we?  OK.  Because new as this laptop is I'm sure screaming and crying into the keyboard isn't going to translate into word composition, my love my sweet.

Next, the Russel Simmons & Sting party?  Clearly it was an event to which Bravo begged Russel to invite the girls, since five out of six of them showed up alleging, "oh!  [spouse] and I came home to a PILE of invitations after the Hamptons, and since it was a WEDNESDAY and there was nothing BETTER to do..."  The Countess and Kelly yawned, while Ramona was uncouth and tactless (and kinda bitchy!), while Silex kind of let their guard down when Alex absent-mindedly whimpered "do we HAVE to wait till Sting [the only person US Weekly would recognize] shows up?"  Simon looked at her with a "we're on camera and how dare you live through the night" glare and saved the trip by making out with Alex and then claiming the only reason their faces were melting was because ALEX WAS SO HOT!  LOL OMG WTF wearefamewhores!

Speaking of Silex's tempestuous romance, we got a little glimpse into the nascent stages:  Alex wasn't looking for anyone.  Simon wasn't looking for anyone.  But they backed into each other online looking to hook up.  Nice use of Craigslist, you New York socialites.  Hahaha, people who started a long-term relationship after a one-night stand are such...  Oh. Um.

LuAnn's idiot countess routine is now a weekly installment, as her patrician ignorance of the neighborhoods south of the Park displayed an aristocratic stupidity that doesn't even exist anymore.  "Where are we?  Is this SoHo?"  I mean, Kelly claimed she lived in SoHo/Little Italy/Chinatown, verbatim, and having lived on Lafayette and White (two blocks South of Canal!) for two years, I get that geographical ambiguity.  Call it SoHo, or call it Tribeca, but don't be an idiot like LuAnn and ask on camera.  The only time that sort of attitude was acceptable was when Big sexily crooned to Carrie on Sex and the City they were below 14th Street, and anything was acceptable.  Sorry Countess, I am only going to respect your money when it comes with an Armani suit and a driver.  Oh, and a penis.

Cherry on the topping: Jill (who has been too absent!) Jewishly screeching at the "squalor" of Silex's house: "How do they have SEX on the top of that bed?  Especially with their kids on the other side of the wawl!!!"  Oh Jill.  You clearly have your priorities straight, and yes, you are still my FAVORITE.  HOUSEWIFE.

PS.  Sweet sassy mo-lassy!  They're making a Real Housewives of New Jersey.  Damn Bravo, you are really taking your satire to a literal sense here (but there goes your six-figure demographic).  But of course I'll watch, so...  

Bling!

Myspace Glitter Graphics

Erin go bragh

Today I left work early, stole some codeine from the boy, and parked it in bed all day because a wretched virus or something is waging a relentless war on my abdomen. All the painkillers and "Wife Swap" episodes on my DVR queue still hasn't cured me of my nausea, and I'm hoping that I'll be alien baby-free by tomorrow for St. Patty's Day. If there's anything I'm proud of what I was inherently born with, it's my Irish roots. Which give me a biological constitution to act like a drunken idiot and get irrationally indignant.

I was going to make a playlist, but I gotta admit that this one's a little thin. There's a wealth of Irish songs that are fun to sing when you're fumbling through a Jameson's-induced stupor, but these are the ones that I'm not ashamed to say I have on my iPod (the rest I will share when you and I are both at a point where it will not be remembered the next morning).

1. The Boxer One of my favorite songs in high school. Also every time I hear the line "Caught the downfall of Jack and Jill, Ryan too," I think they're singing "Pete and Meg, Brian too," and then I think the song is about Family Guy.
   
2. Love You Till the End Unfortunately the lead singer of the Pogues has a mug that's clearly taken a harder hit from drinking than his liver. Regardless, the Pogues are an incredible band (who I missed! this weekend!) that play simply the best modern Irish stuff I've ever heard. They also did "Fairytale of New York," which I listed in my Totally Rad Christmas Mix.


3. Sunday Bloody Sunday This is a song about 27 civil rights protestors being killed for their political beliefs in Northern Ireland. Also, a car bomb is a drink wherein you drop a shot of Jameson's (or Bailey's) into a glass of Guinness and chug it. Making light of revolutionary integrity and political violence is what St. Patrick's Day, and Irish American conscience, is all about. Sláinte!
   
4. Dreams Like "Sunday Bloody Sunday," this song isn't really musically "Irish." It's modern and reminds me of being in the fourth grade and being forced to listen to my mom's Cranberries tape whenever we were in the car. But when it comes from a nation whose only global contribution is slapstick theater, Guinness, and the cautionary tale of how to NOT ignore birth control, I'll proudly call the Cranberries the music of my people.


5. Galway Girl This song makes me want to dance around with a hot Irish man and drink my face off and then make a stupid decision.
   
6. Shipping Up to Boston I never saw The Departed the whole way through because I'm not good with gratuitous violence. Oops.
   
7. C'est la Vie Unquestionably the most integral composition in the history of Gaelic music. It's important to note that Irish people can only be successful internationally if they incorporate more sophisticated stuff, like French words, into their music.

Remember this?

I'm going to make this a series, wherein I bring up memories from my childhood (so basically eye porn from 1993-2003) and then give "second thoughts," things that I would never think to myself at the tender age of... 17 (I went to Catholic school!).  OK?  Hyah we go.  Remember this?

ON SECOND THOUGHT.

I love this song.  When I listen to it, I want to learn how to play an acoustic guitar and then wail on one.  But the video?  WTF?  Is being a stalker sexy all of the sudden?  When were stalkers financially eligible for Nolita lofts with arched windows?  I guess when the same graphic tee and jeans is all that's in your wardrobe, you can swing it.