Jen Aniston all tied up for GQ.

Now we all know I love AJ. Always have, but I saw this and thought: "Va va voom." Jennifer Aniston turns 40 in two months and has a body to die for. ( Thanks to Hatha and Ashtanga Yoga...no surprise). Elongated muscles, calming strength, flat tummy.

I've heard rumblings that she is making a desperate attempt to look "over" the Brad/Angie triangle. I don't know. I'd like to give her the benefit of the doubt and assume she has moved on, moved into her own self assurance and is enjoying some amazing photos of herself for the world over to see. Why not? She has suffered enough. Not to mention a heavy promotion of Marley and Me with Owen Wilson coming out in three weeks. Perhaps she forgot to go in for the pre-shoot fitting and she had to borrow the sound grip's tie for his high school reunion later that night? It could happen.

Take a look for yourself. What I want to know is what was behind the big black tape on the upper thigh of meat cake number two at the bottom of the shot?

I agree with you GQ. It isn' just you, she does keep getting hotter. She also has never had a child, (or three like AJ) but whose counting? I would be ecstatic if I could look like this naked at 40. Namaste, shanti shanti and godspeed.

Not surprisingly, all wealthy 40+ women seem to be getting hotter, thinner, more svelte and dewy. I am convinced that if you have more than 10 million in the bank and are on the dawn of your 4th decade of life, a group of black-velvet and hooded women in Balenciaga boots and grey nail polish show up to anoint you into the world of "secrets to staying young". There is a club, I know it....40 has never looked so good.

In an elevator...DO THIS.

I was in an elevator earlier today and I found myself pondering what a strange circumstance it is that we all accept into our daily routines. It even has little rules of behavior, and we nod or smile when people follow them, or get disapproving when they don't. I began to think of all the things that could go wrong in the elevator. I know, I know, Greys Anatomy would have you believe all elevator rides are full of suppressed sexual tension. I remembered the strange intimacy of riding an elevator multiple times a day to the 21st floor in my Chicago condo building and the many MANY times I wanted to do something outrageous just to shock people. Then...I found this...and someone already thought of all of them for me at http://www.geocities.com/skrelborn/elevator.html

1. Wave hands wildly at invisible flies buzzing around your head.

2. Shave.

3. Crack open your briefcase or purse, and while peering inside ask: "Got enough air in there?"

4. Stand silent and motionless in the corner, facing the wall, without getting off.

5. Greet everyone getting on the elevator with a warm handshake and ask them to call you Admiral.

6. Stare, grinning, at another passenger for a while, and then announce: "I've got new socks on!"

7. Stare at another passenger for a while, then announce "You're one of THEM!" and move to the far corner of the elevator.

8. . When the elevator is silent, look around and ask "is that your beeper?"

9. Carry a blanket and clutch it protectively.

10. Hold the doors open and say you're waiting for your friend. After awhile, let the doors close and say, "Hi Greg. How's your day been?"

11. Lay down a Twister mat and ask people if they'd like to play.

12. Stand really close to someone, sniffing them occasionally.

13. Call out, "Group hug!" then enforce it.

14. While the doors are opening, hurriedly whisper, "Hide it...quick!" then whistle innocently.

And....that concludes my silly funny list share for today.

No joke. Once a week I get the Aerosmith lyrics stuck in my head. ( I do not own the music file, CD or tape) "Love in an EL-A-VA-TOR....Livin' it up, when I'm GOIN' DOooooown...." Bizarre.

In Rod (Blago) we do NOT trust...

Blago, Blago, Blago? You are about to be one of a small group of Chicago politicans (3 ex Illinois governors) to be jailed in my lifetime. Sheesh. You called Obama a motherwhat? You tried to sell the senate seat? Man oh man. Driving from my "typing place" the Bou, I heard on the local radio that when the Deputy Chief called him at 2:00am to warm him that he was about to be arrested, that two armed officers were at his door, and that this was being done to avoid waking his daughters or the media to the mess, he said: "Is this a joke?" At least he got out for $4500.00. That's barely a nice suit for some sleezy politicians.

Men in power. It is amazing. I am truly fascinated. Are they so highly removed from the realities and repercussions of the world that they feel invincible? Spitzer? Edwards? Whadayathink? It has to be. No one is dumb enough, I have to believe civil servants, "men of the people" actually started out, at some point, educated and with the best interest of the people. I get it. Most men ( Marcus not included) are busy trying to elevate themselves, etch a mark in history either on a grand scheme or small. I don't fault anyone for attempting some self gain, but NOT at the risk of a trusted position of power where your role is to work in the best INTEREST of the people you serve.

Honestly, I don't really care what politicians stick their body parts into...I don't really judge them on their personal lives, that isn't on the table in my book. I do, however find it unbelievable to see this kind of overt corruption. Not only Blago's but whomever was on the other end of the phone, email, and conversations!!!

(Sigh) I would keep my mouth shut, but this is a mess, a taint the windy city is known for...WIND and bull shite. Bummer. While I'm ranting, why is it sleeting after we already have inches of snow on the ground? How is Britney Spears being celebrated for a "comeback" by merely oiling up her short little legs and rolling around in a video? Sloppy Joe's are making a comeback....I don't respect them more, I just think: "Yeah, why not...it got a bad rap let's give it a whirl."

On a high note, however, my future age-limitation defying lover Alec Baldwin is going to be on Larry King Live. I guarantee you can picture me hunched over my knees, biting my fingernails with a giddy grin around 10pm tonight!

SNL GAP ad makes me laugh-snort at the gym.

Today was a typical winter's day in Chicago land. 26 degrees and sunny. I decided to wrap the tot up in her warmest gear and spend two hours at the gym. So be it. On the elliptical machine I got head deep into the December issue of "VOGUE". Not only was Jenny A (my look alike) on the cover (( that's a joke, I love her, but love Angie more)), but I stopped dead in my tracks to recover from a laughing out loud snort reaction to the latest crop of ingenious GAP ads.

Take a look a the hilarity in what seems like a silly ab lib/American express-like fill in the blanks spot. Not to mention the rough-neck faces...


They are all funny, but the one that knocked me out was: "Visit your own ___Stalker___". I couldn't contain myself. I even had an impromptu brainstorming of unpredictable things to say in such situations and I couldn't. It made me miss the RADAR Magazine boys of the 100 list.







I know you could come up with a million reasons NOT to support GAP. Like sweatshops and reviving, revolving fashion-less Lycra-knit fabrics made for the masses, or teen consumption, but from as strictly marketing and advertising point of view, this was priceless. Funny, full-colored and memorable. Brand and character endorsement clearly front and center, with a side dish of poppycock to say: "we don't take ourselves too seriously."

Love it. Go Gap. They go Red, they are trying. C'mon...there are worse things happening out there. Have you seen the latest cosmetic serum made from infant foreskin? Right....pick your battles.

December makes me think of members.

What? Gross. Did I just make an anatomical reference that makes no sense? Yes. I'm sorry. I really would prefer to rant about how boring "Australia" was with the exception of the magical aboriginal boy wonder. I could fill pages about my obsession and fear for a close friend during the Mumbai terrorist attacks. I am so disappointed in the Grey's anatomy slip n slide into the horror show of prime-time soap-opera-esque plot lines with dead ghosts making love to Izzy. In the famous words of every character on that show from last year: "Seriously? Seriously. SER-I-OUSLY?"

But I here I am...over-sexed. I know, I know....no surprise, but somehow I am convinced that hormonally, things are going crazy pre-winter solstice. During the normal excitement and anticipation of Thanksgiving dinner I was dreaming of having sex with Hugh Laurie...really. It was exciting and moment to moment heart-palpitating, pulsating anticipation and then after kissing the top of his tummy and unzipping his pants....there was an infant size "member". He then waddled off with his cane. Hmmm...

Next up, was trapeze foreplay with someone even stranger, like Ewen Mcgregor, or some other bendy man from modern day movies. I will tell you, instead of being exotic, it was overwhelmingly full of huge misses, and big pelvic bruises. Its bizarre. Truly. I wake up sweaty and guilt-ridden. This is the season of giving and gratefulness. This is the time for love and light and peaceful offerings and my subconscious is nose-diving past saviors born in hay, to rolling in it and then failing miserably at execution. I DON'T FAIL AT EXECUTION (of that). I can't control it. The more I joke with friends or my husband about how I will focus on wholesome things before nodding off...the worse it gets. I wont even begin to describe what happened with the red-head actress from "Gladiator" or "The Devils Advocate". Eesh.

I will try harder (tee-hee) to focus on Christmas cheer and holly. I will spend more time making hot apple cider and warm cocoa while wearing an apron and maybe even doing my hair like a Mormon bouffant FLDS matriarch in folded white socks and denim. I am not unholy or despicable.

AM I? Strap in...December is going to be warm and fuzzy, white hot and tingly too.

PS: Good gracious I hope none of my child's preschool teachers ever stumble onto this blog!

Say my name,Say my name,wait.... Dont.

I am beside myself right now. Truly. I don't care about mass commerical pop starlets and their children (except for my beloved Angie) but this is getting down right obnoxious!

"BRONX MOWGLI" is the new Ashlee Simpson baby name. Are you flippin' kidding me?! Does this kid have a shot with his resume in 18 years? Will people take him seriously at high school graduation? Look I realize there will be tons of thousands of spawn with parents that had a lapse in lucid thinking and named their kids such atrocities as "Pilot Inspektor", "Kyd", and "Apple" but those are just celebrity crazy...on some level they get excused because they don't really live in our reality, and most of them will end up in rehab, then in a new clan of panti-less starlets and back to rehab, so it is fitting.

What gets me is how many upstanding well-educated people are naming their kids to the trends. The green-organic smokeless cigar club of elite successful business men will be referring to themselves by saying things like:

"Storm, How are the latest numbers coming in on electromagnetic flypods, are your cornering the market?"

or "Brooklyn and Ridge are teeing off at 9 tomorrow, are you in?"

The children of this decade are going to be thought of similarly to the poor kids of hippie hallucinogens days of "Soleil Moonfry" and "River Pheonix". So goes it, I just think its carving a hard path for your kids. Its difficult enough to be taken seriously with "normally" strange names or extremely ethnic names, but those have substance, meaning, namesake. How do you philosophically validate "Dakota" or "Nevaeh"...great, really? Its "heaven" backwards. PUKE.

Get a grip people. Children are anything BUT a trend. Give them a tiny little boost in a knock-you-down world. Start your kindness by giving them tools to succeed. No matter how much we preach kindness and non-judgement, people do, even if you don't. Go crazy with a nick name, but to bring mockery to the one unique identifier that will stick with them from birth to death...be fair. Be thoughtful and be respectful. Just saying...

If you are itching to make your power and creative mark: Get a dog. Name it "chakra shitball loveeeellly boneboy" or "Kendalllll Cade Karma Makeyyylaa Dom purr on Yum"

November's Top 3 Bed Em' if you can get Em'!

So...I know, I know, the big question is what the FECK is wrong with me? Who cares. Nothing. Lazy, Apathy, my new found love interest in cooking healthy tasty food like the lemon caper tilipia I'm making tonight. Who knows. My libido however, is fully in tact, even though I have not been stretching the limits of what a mother/wife can say without being distasteful on this blog lately. I have still been being rather nasty at all times, despite my ability to appear like I'm nesting in my new SAHM role or other seemingly "normal" traipses through life.

I have to say, my list makes no sense. I know this, and that is ok.

1. Justin Timberlake. YEP. I caught a snippet of his gazelle, lift one leg scoot and undulate move from SNL and his concert and its nuts. The man can look sexy and naughty by moving his NECK. the least of phallic symbols, but check it....you will want to wreck in his adorable baby boy face. Um...then there is his "soft-goofy side" that shows up on Ellen and plays golf and is way more self aware than one should be after sleeping with Bspears trainwreck, Cameron Diaz and Jessica (perfect booty) Biel. Take a look. What man can wear a leotard and still be HOT? I rest my case.




I want to smell him and make fun of him for being so boyish and wearing white tennis shoes, and then have him throw me on a wall and dance in front of me, or mock himself and crack jokes...because this guy is everything and nothing predictable. Have I said too much?

2. James Bond (Daniel Craig) or just the idea of him:
I watched "Quantum of Solace" last night and felt my ovaries jump and release estrogen in toxic amounts at his calm while flying down a cliff side road in Italy in an Aston Martin, and his athleticism and skepticism and rippled tummyicism....he is danger, and dark and inconsolable. He leaps over anything, can kill with a pressure point, risks his life for a woman, than nonchalantly drops her off in the safe hands of a hotel conceirge...contradictions in a flesh pod of muscle and sex-man musk.

In life, that is a nightmare, in fantasy that is a dreamy bowl of smoking hot love making and a false sense of connection with a heartless machine of sexy goodness is just what I ordered.( Self loathing follows when he forgets your name post coital) so he can stay in fantasy world, gun slinging and throwing himself into the fire of sarcastic vengeance. If there were no consequences and my self-esteem was 100% in tact, I would fly onto this man like those bat monkeys with wings, envelope him and then disappear before he could get to clean up...leave him a note that says: "Not bad...had to run...L" Dirty, dirty, bad guy. What woman doesn't dream of breaking this kind of nut?! Humpy hot double O for me please.

3. Alec Baldwin: I have no apologies. This man makes me laugh and think and want to run and then stay, and the shuffle back two steps and then jump his fifty year old bones just to see if he can stay standing. Not only is he smart and seasoned with women, he is realistic and almost impossible. I picture him the kind of guy I would want to punch for calling out all my tricks, attention needs and inadequacies, but somehow peppering his slights with sex appeal and backwards compliments. You may picture grey hair and wrinkles and a spare tire...sure, but I still see vintage in him. The body is a curious thing, it changes, it ages, it sags...and such is life. Mine will too. Until then, I would love to stretch out, arch my back and lay before this silly, fast-tongued (surely dirty minded) man of many words, jokes and political opinions.


Sigh....I'm not claiming to be normal, in fact quite the opposite. If nothing else, find comfort in how normal you seem in comparison to my over-sexed thoughts, rationalizing and daydreams.

Happy Monday. No day for the mundane.

Alec Baldwin calls Palin "Bible Spice" on Letterman

It is a well known fact that Alec Baldwin has become a night lover ( in my dreams) of mine. He has all it takes. Witty fast tongue, Over 40(although, he is about at the age cusp of limitations where I draw the line), unapologetic-grab life by the balls-and enjoy it attitude, and he speaks his mind.

Ever since his interview on 60 minutes, which I rewound a few times just to be able to process all his jokes, and catch his societal/political statements, I have been in lust admiration. Last night, he was on David Letterman. I can't help but wonder if his hair do is prepped like that of Cameron Diaz in "Something About Mary". I wont judge. He is cute and pudgy and smart. Love it. Enjoy, I did.



I am jumping in my britches to see him on 30 Rock tonight. Hopefully more people will watch. Why do all the men I love NOT have an upper lip? I don't actually find it attractive, but it seems to be a reoccurring trait. (shoulder shrug) I love his vocabulary. Well used, well placed and self-depricating with four or more syllable words at a time!

Ha cha cha....

Last October Hump Day Roundup

So here we are on the last Wednesday of October. I voted today. It took 10 minutes, that was nice. There was a snow storm in the Northeast. The Dow rallied to close up almost 900 points yesterday, even though a consumer index looked grim. Bounce baby, bounce. I lost obscene amounts of money in September, I refuse to look in October.


On a brighter note, Anderson Cooper is on the cover of "Best Life Magazine" and looks amazing. I really wish there was a way that I could double for Erica Hill and be near him, or get a few hours to pretend he was straight. Those perfect little pink lips! Doesn't that saying ring true for him: "Just because there is snow on top of the mountain doesn't mean there isn't a fire inside." I love grey hair (on pretty men). Speaking of men, I was slightly disappointed with Jon Hamm's level of goofy on SNL. I like Don Draper better. Not that it matters. Patrick Sharp has kicked his overly used eyebrows off my top 3 list. ( more on that later)

All this cold weather and the imminent decent of holiday ads and displays to steal the autumnal air has made me feel the need to check some boxes. Here are a few:

1. Go apple picking.

2. Wear a rain coat. ( In Chicago, the opportunity to do this and remain cold is so slight)

3. Watch a high school football game outside while sipping apple cider.

4. Make butternut squash soup from scratch and chili with dark chocolate in it!

5. Make out with football player in the fallen leaves. Oh wait. No. A hockey player?

6. Light a fire and lie naked on a faux fur rug with a hot toddy and make s'mores or maybe just do a nude headstand while watching the ember and working my prana and trying to focus on lower my Pitta dosha. (wait....maybe that's not for everyone...)

7. Enjoying warm and fuzzy natural yearning to cuddle up and create body heat with someone, as well as the general sense of seasonal romance that is founded on things like the ideals of "When Harry met Sally" instead of hot monkey crazy summer lust.

8. Steal time to go to a movie on a cloudy, rainy, chilly day.

9. Point out all the fake N bake break downs happening because the weather has turned and that perfect brown tawny look on some women ( and men) just ain't plausible. ( pft. I'm not mean, I make up for my judgements with karmic love sent to the universe through universe...what do you do?)

10. Pull out those long-ass knee high warm socks and sip some hot chocolate.

Get out there and make the next 2 days count. Stay warm, be warm and enjoy the passing moments before they are passed.

Today I pondered: (un)Sexy songs to avoid.

There have been several things I randomly ponder. I am always thinking about the strangest things. For instance, I was stuck driving behind a short yellow school bus carrying handicapped children. The woman was helping a sweet boy off of the ramp in his wheelchair, and I thought: "Holy shit (pun intended) what would happen if the bus driver got a horrible crampy dose of explosive diarrhea? What then? You can't park a bus of children at the 7/11 to go to the bathroom!" I stressed all day about this for all the bus drivers. Godspeed to them. Other times, I think more sexy thoughts. Yep, I just combined explosive poo and sexy in the same thought. So, this is was came out....

Songs you should avoid during sexual intercourse, but if it happens, you are guranteed a laugh:

* The trick is to keep rhythm at all times with the main beat of the song. I tried it, not easy. ( no, I didn't, but its sounds better that way.)

1. Gloria Estafan - "1,2,3,4 come on baby say you love me, 5, 6, 7, times". I hate her. I would not take my clothes of to this woman, not even if paid, nor would I ever be able to laugh during sex to it. I would be too busy throwing up in my mouth and picturing her hair flopping.

(side note: Does anyone else picture John McCain naked and flopping around when he talks?...hmm..just me.)

2.Tears for Fears- "Shout". That would be funny, and slightly silly with its lyrical undertones. The beat would be strange too. SHOUT. SHOUT. LET IT ALL OUT. (HA!) I'm laughing just thinking about it.

3. Suzanne Vega- "Tom's diner". I don't even have to explain it.

4. The theme song to the TV hit Laverne and Shirley. Sclameal (up) slamazol (down), could get really obnoxious. Not that laughing is ideal during sex, but this one would surely bring on a giggle loop.

5.The Captain and Tennille- "Muskrat Love". I picture two really goofy high school modern dance students in leotards and sweaty hair moving slowly in tandem. Eeek.

6. Radiohead- "Creep". Think about it....very difficult not to get cold pricklies, let alone move sensually.

7. DMB- "Tripping Billies" Pure entertainment if you can keep up with the melody and tempo changes.

8. Los Del Rio -"Macarena". Just listening to this song makes me quiver with horrible visuals of country barn yard weddings with acid-washed Levi jeans and starter jackets clapping and laughing in unison while patting their own over-stuffed bum bums. No sex in the champagne room for you.

9. Bette Midler- "The rose". I think I only know ONE man who could listen to this song, block it out, and some how convince himself (and me) that the female anatomy was a rose, and other things were rain and sun, to plant a seed. Nasty. Avoid this song unless you are at a funeral, group hug or PMS party.

10. Alanis Morrisette- "You outta know". I would be wildy entertained to know if anyone was capable of keeping "beat" to that scream sequence near the end.

And...I'm sure I could come up with hundreds more. So next time you are getting that yummy warm tummy feeling and heading to the unsafe place of jingle jangle in the rubbing dirties department, make sure you avoid the above. Love is alive. Look lively.

Tony Robbins, Booby Jolie and egg-birthing Chicken

So...All of you are right. I WAS in fact, stuck in an inversion yoga position with Bill Murry while playing Steve Winwood and day dreaming of Hedge fund managers and old senators that I could wink and shimmy for merely to keep from getting too overly obsessed with the Wall Street crisis that has been taking up all the space in mind.

Today a few things perked me up. 1. Tony Robbins (yep captain big-hands and big teeth) was talking POSITIVELY about the way we can approach this new "season" of turmoil, and it was inspiring. Sue me. I went to a seminar in the 90s. I walked on coals. I hugged strangers in a faux-hope for having some epiphany. Instead, I met and dated and fell in love with a once-quadriplegic hockey player, who now...walks and hikes. But that is just what I do. Take an inspirational life changing event, and make it about lust, men and hockey players. But I digress...Check him out at http://thepowerofcrisis.com/.

2. I have a huge girl crush on Angelina Jolie and have been trying to find early copies of W magazines 21 candid pictures of her, taken by Brad. Why? Because she is not too good to wear a mumu, sometimes her makeup is smeared and recently when she was asked how she looks so good 13 weeks post pregnancy; she replied: "A great dress." And...she is hot, crazy and unpredictable. Check my records, I have not been a fair-weather AJ fan...I loved her in the nutso, kissing brother stage. Evvvvverybody poops.

3. While trying to eat my breakfast this morning, my charming 3 year old brought a new toy she found to me. A chicken laying an egg. (see pic). I laughed hysterically, which only egged her on (pun intended) and once again, I was reminded about the beauty of little laughs that can change a mood.

I am back. I am working on the latest Bed em' Get em' list and pondering the random synergies of anatomical remanufunctionality of love,pursuit and acceptance measured on parallel levels of the universe. Be happy. Ponder an Eggy chicken, laugh with a good friend today, love someone like I love AJ, hold hands, sing about positive change, invest some money in value stocks with good market caps and think sexy thoughts.

Until tomorrow...or later today. Enjoy the revisionist historical take on a bloody and horrendous discovery and pillage of the new world. I know I will.

Five purely hypothetical reasons you haven't heard from Lulu.

***This is a guest post from Marcus Gumbasmall hands. A good friend and fellow blogger at handonmouth***

Where's Lulu?

I can deduce from reading Lulu Notewordy, as to what might have caused this sudden dryspell of posts. Because the process is way more "Fringe" than "CSI", I'll spare you the mechanics behind such forensic science. And I'll give you the 5 top scenarios I think may have happened...

(Actually, we all know she has more than 5 reasons. She COULD give them all to you in one fell swoop. Though she won't. But you'd like that wouldn't you?)

1. Lulu's iPod is stuck in a constant random shuffle mode of 70's Soft Rock ballads and a smooshing of 80's syrup and cheese. Think Manilow's "It's A Miracle" or Bobby Caldwell's "What You Won't Do For Love." Or worse yet, "Sentimental Street" by Night Ranger. She's caught up in a self-embrace of hugging and slow-rocking, smiling to herself. And can't reach the keyboard.

2. During one of her writing sessions from the fireplace table at Caribou Coffee, she had a chocolate-walnut brownie. (Most likely, she had two.) In a shoulder-shrugging to ears, eyes-closed and "mmmmm-mmmm-ing", choco-epiphany inducing body hover, she was smacked on the back by a passing computer bag and launched into a permanent state of disfiguring. And can't reach the keyboard.

3. Called to Congress to testify on her role in possible conspiracy to displace the ecomony and sour the mood of millions, entirely through her lack of blogging. Still tapping microphone, still asking, "Can you hear me?" . Still winking at old senators, and still snickering at the term "rising
inflation."

4. Depressed and off-put by her decision to invest everything she had into the confectionary market. (After all, candy IS an omnipresent need, isn't it?) She's re-thinking her decison to cash out after a 2/1 split, and receive dividends in the form of Mike N' Ikes.

5. Waiting until next year, as they say, to post her diatribe on the Chicago Cubs historic playoff collapse. Oh, she'll use the same post; she'll just then change the date to 2009.


At the very least, if none of these are true, I think we can all agree, she put off today what she could have done yesterday by casting all her oars into the fire, and ran up the river on a gift horse, crying over a pot of spilt milk and bathwater for no apparent reason.

I think she'll post again, so don't give up on her. Ask her questions, and she'll tell you no lies. She'll just spell them wrong.

We love you, Lulu. Come back and stay for good this time.

(pictured -right) Marcus and Lulu in occupational conflict during stupid LA corporate-bonding treasure hunt.

Circle Dance: Bonnie, Stevie and Vanessa

I know. I know...It's been ages. I would apologize but I fear no one really cares. I am finally compelled to write again. After the hospital stay, the growing sweet parasite within me (that I will not expound on) and my non stop feeling of being on the spinning top of a smelly carny ride while gagging at the smell of everything from deodorant to wind...Yep. I have not forgoten the blogworld. I just havent felt funny, articulate or anything other than miserable.

But here I am. So predictably...moved by music. I have spent a lot of time lying down watching news, and cnbc and music. Tonight, I realized that music heals almost anything. I noticed that it is my fondness of human connection in well-written lyrics and duets. I watched Stevie Nicks and Vanessa Carlton sing a song called "Circle Dance" written by one of my favorite female guitar slinging musicians ever- Bonnie Raitt.

The music is haunting in and of itself, but the lyrics speak to anyone. "Can't go back to make things right, but I wish I understood." I love that about music. You can't show me ONE person who doesn't have someone, some haunt, that sits quietly in the folds of their heart. Perhaps they don't pine for this person, but it vaguely shimmers as a dwindled light. Things didn't work out, blame has been thrown. Maybe its a parent, or a lover, or an old friend. Love has such a binding hold on us. All of us. We grow into it, with it, in search of it.

Listen to the song, you'll see precisely what I mean. If you are unmoved, you need another drink or a new soul...just saying.




Sooner or later we look back on the ripples of the decisions we have made, and we see beauty in the erosion lines of love. The marks they left with us, good or bad that have caused us to see things better, hold our virtues and belief closer to the things that count. In a funny way, I find comfort in a song that sadly brings me back to the ache of loss, or slow dissolution of love with someone. It reminds us that everything changes. Time rolls over all the things we think are everlasting, and that is profoundly important in the evolution of forward motion.

Letting go is abstract and concrete in the same. The heart never really does....let go. There is always some small beating part of it that hopes that someone, that ONE person will recognize or realize how incredibly important or special or remarkable we were. Maybe we stopped waiting for them to have that epiphany, but the mere acknowledgement of that emotion existing binds us all.

"Time has made things clearer now, we did the best we could." It fascinates me to think of how many scenarios and sad but necessary stories that sentence poses an answer for.

Feel love. Feel moved. Feel alive in moments and allow yourself to be touched by the lingering, and the letting go. Feel.

Hanky "Banky" Paulson and Frank to save the free world?

Okay, Okay I admit it. I have become literally obsessed with the financial markets. It stems from my college days with a day-trading father and my measly "penny-stock" trading, but this should be fascinating to anyone.

Today is going to be a wild wild ride! Short sellers are temporarily banned (and being unfairly blamed for all the demise of wall street...come on? Who is regulating credit swaps? or piss-poor risk management at the top ranks of financial corporations!)Scape goats are nifty discretionary tools and I'm sure there are shaunky shorters, but generalizations make me crazy.

A very angry man walked into my home last night after his bank's stock(which happens to be "clean" and one of the best market caps in the industry) plummeted 43% by midday and then closed in the green. That my friends, is rumor mongering reaping rewards for someone....THAT is your problem. So..what now? Government guarantees on mutual funds and depository banks. SEC regulations and emergency rules. All l can say is these issues feel like that funny "Whac-a-mole" game at the arcades. You get a mallet and stare down about 5 holes, each one with a popping up mole head(aka new financial crisis issue). I picture Hank Paulson, Bernanke, Barney Frank and Nancy Pelosi all standing in a baseball outfielder's position with a mallet in hand.

On a day like this, when there are so many bad-mouthing angry journalists, and even more bitter bank employees wondering about their own destiny, it is only fitting to throw a monsoon of good vibe, peace, calm and loving serenity into the growing void of black thick-striped suits and stressed out pessimistic circles of the soul-searching money hungry masses. I have never heard more media members and pundits say: "This too shall pass." Even the most drone-like are getting philosophical in times like these. It's cute.

This weeks insanity requires more than a mere shimmy and kiss-blow. No, we need to pull in some hari Krishna's, burn some smudge sticks, have tantric sex in honor of settled consumer confidence and peace on a global level. We need smelling salts and Native American chants and collective meditation. Or....we could just sit back and see what the Fed finally lands on...that might be easier. Eh...errr....let's do that. I don't feel up for tantric anything right now.

Stay tuned. After this rant (which was steeping for days) I will get uber frivolous. We can talk about fall fashion colors like purple or whatever the feck Megan Fox thinks a woman should be able to say sexually, you know...the meat of life. Ha...I said meat. Hold on to your bespoke britches!

Love and closing options. Sex and short puts. Peace and government guaranteed mutual funds.

When the world is awry, why not wave the freak flag?

Here we go...Life is interesting lately. Russia just closed their markets due to the plummet of their stocks and exchange. AIG got a bridge loan bailout of 85 billion. DJ was down 340 at 10:30am. Obama is getting nailed for raising 9Million in Hollywood, yet McCain raised 5Million days before in Miami. The US embassy was bombed in Yemen. Britney Spears is releasing another album. Skinny Jeans are still being worn by men and Tom Brady isn't playing football. Which made me think of a good list....

10 Things I shouldn't admit, because they make me look really really bad (or crazy):

1.) The demise of Wall street is absolutely exciting and fascinating to me. Also known as schadenfreude. Every tidbit of bad news from wall street makes me giddy. I am glued to CNBC. I am in love with David Faber and literally triple clap when the market goes nuts. NOT b/c I want people to lose money, or the economy to tank...no, Its much more superficial and silly than that. I am heavily invested, with tons of exposure, I just have a need for chaos and my life is boring. I also believe in the next 2 years we will be booming. It CANT hurt for people to have to buckle down, be less exotic with their spending and be more aware of greed, poor judgement and excessive materialism.

2.) I actually love corny music, and whenever I need to feel warm and cozy I put on the stale and old music of 93.9 the Light, because it reminds me of youth and safety. Yep. Julianna Hatfield, Phil Collins, Steve Winwood...C'mon, sing it with me: "believe it or not...I'm walking on airrrrr" OR! "Life in a Northern townnnnnnn, Hey oh ma ma ma...." See? You love it too.

3.) I hate to floss, and sometimes...it doesn't happen as often as it should. There, I said it.

4.) I truly cringe at first time parents with rose-colored glasses. Everyone has the right to be eager and bright-eyed about parenthood, but its hard as nails and I have to bite my tongue not to unveil the litany of issues, losses and cluelessness their nativitie involves. I love being a mom, that goes without saying, but it ain't all nursing bliss and floating with a cherub child and happy spouse on a cloud of puppy dogs and sweet purposefullness.

5.) I love to say crazy things like:"I am against inter-racial relationships" to people. (since I am the spawn of one, the reactions are hilarious.) I really am NOT. Obviously...look at my husband.

6.) I daydream about putting things back where I didn't find them, just to confuse people. I also like to write illegible notes to my family and title them "IMPORTANT!".

7.) I shouldn't, but I can't help myself. I judge women on the shape of their eyebrow shape. I wont go into detail as not to offend, but my pet peeve-brow is uber-thin and highly curved with a round ball at the nose bridge end. Tbe pictured eyebrow is PERFECT to me.

8.) I truly find extreme pleasure in using obnoxious double entendres with a straight face in serious situations. Like: "Okay, You are giving it to me hard and fast, but let's step back and try to knock this out with a little more attention to detail."

9.) I dream of sex with all kinds of men, all the time. Mostly older men, mostly men on TV or in high end circles and some even have jowls...its nasty. I need to set some time aside to deal with that one.

10.) When my daughter was younger and would have big boogies, I found it exhilarating to pick them for her. The bigger the better. The stringier the more pride I had in clearing her passageway. It was a art, a competition. Me against the goo in her nose, and I always won...even if I worked at it way longer than some one should ever commit to nasal mucous. I even would show off the findings after retrieval. Oh yeah....I did it, and I will do it again if need be.

Judge away. Face it fellow freak flag hiders. You have a whole host of things you love too. I'm just hear to reveal myself to make you feel better about your weirdness, or to fill a nice little self-righteous void for ya. Take it. I send it with love, kindness and compassion.

Happy hump day.

Friday's little things: Dancing in the rain.

So the world is no stranger than it has been. Crude Oil dipped under $100/barrel, but it still costs me $78.00 to fill up my car in the suburbs. Lehman Bros needs some brotherly love our some strategic buyouts to stay a float. Matt Damon is cracking me up with his words on Palin like, "Do the actuariy tables..." (on the likelihood of a presidential expiration) or "I need to know, I do, does she really believe that dinasours were here 4000 years ago...I need to know....'Cause she's gonna have the nuclear codes." To see it, click Here. It is Absurd. What else? Ike is going to try an swallow Galveston. Governmental Oil agencies were riding the snow-train with hookers and other Sheik-like behaviors. Sheeeesh.

Today is gray and cloudy and damp. It was like many days. Make breakfast for the mini, dress for class, return all emails...etc. But this morning was peculiar and sideways. We had a lovely poop accident where my three year old grabbed a nugget off the floor with her bare hands. She then slide in the number 4-style, directly into a corner in our kitchen due to newly oiled wood floors and brand new ballet tights, and somehow we spent twenty minutes looking for my keys. Needless to say, I was a mother-beast of fury and rushing words like: "move it, love we're late!" and "walkah walkah walkah." (also can double for a 70's porn music imitation) and "Gooooooo!"

Yet, just as we stepped outside into the rain she stopped me and said: "Mama. Don't be mad. We can dance." Truer words have never been spoken at a more prudent time. Dance we did. I am now frizzy haired and much calmer. The wisdom and resilience of a three year old is priceless. So is this picture.

If nothing else today find your little thing. Dance in the rain. Kiss in the sun. Laugh until you spit-take. Hold hands. Dive roll into the living room. Call that girl/guy you want to see. Thank the people you love. Just take a minute to be fully aware of the beauty in things that make you feel good, free and without care. You deserve it. We all need it. The rest can wait for a single minute to make you crazy.

Happy Friday....I hope you dance.

Carole King kind of night....

Can we just erase that the Jonas brothers sang a cover? Stop the madness. Directions: Press "Play"....then read on.(pay no attention to the silly graphic and elusive hand working the needle.)



Tonight is one of those nights...a Carole King or Joni Mitchell kind of night. I often have random songs pop into my head. Perhaps the smell of peanut butter sparks a Don McLean's "Starry night" or the cold windchill in an evening that serves as a good reason to grab an afghan instead of close the window, and how "You're so far away" plays in circular rotation in my head.

I love that about music. The ability to transcend a mood, a memory a feeling, a person. This song, specifically makes me thing of persons from my past at random, with no attention to one over the other. I miss my father and think how far away his presence and voice is from me now in his death. I picture a goofy high school girlfriend dancing on our dorm beds with a sheer scarf wrapped around a fake microphone in slow motion. I reminisces about the sweet lingering sadness of missing someone over time, or oceans, or the minds distance that draws wake like lines in the water of our journey....rippling into moments like the ones I have tonight.

What a beautiful thing. To be thought of at random with no action, but to be thought of...because the air got cool, or the season changed. I find comfort in knowing, somewhere, someday I am a dancing image in the playback mirror of some one's mind. If not proven, its a fair guess of the numbers game.

Warm your heart to the likeness of memories that build and bridge loving kind feelings of a time past, a love lost, or a close friend with whom the intimacy or life has diminished. We are never alone, we are an amazing captured collaboration of all the tiny shades of the people we shared life with.

Grab a blanket, some chamomile tea, tuck your legs to the side, and smile within. You are thought of in the strangest smallest moments.... No matter how far away.

10 Reasons to love Fall.

Awwwww. (Deep breath, inhale-cool air). It is here. "September Morns" and Earth Wind and Fire songs. The school buses are spreading their stinky exhaust and little mini leaf swirls spin in the streets signaling a time of new beginnings. I have always reveled in the change of seasons. Fall represented a time of starting new for me. Every school year (as a child) I thought I could be someone different. Maybe this year I would be head cheerleader, or artsy, or just like one of the girls from "Heathers".

10 little Things I love about Fall:

1. Sharpening pencils and the Velcro sound of trapper-keepers. ( Do they still make those?)

2. Sleeping with the windows open and the warm snuggle under the covers in contrast to the fresh cool breeze, then waking up and getting "pumpkin spice" coffee, cupcakes,donuts, bread...at the Starbucks.

3. Um...Season Premieres and the beautiful anticipation of your favorite show coming on at night.

4. The first time you truly need to break out a sweater and the soft feel of it on your skin, or better yet...hugging someone you dig when they are wearing a cuddly sweater. (souky souky time comes from warm fuzzies)

5. Eating Chili with shredded cheese and Frito's while watching football!

6. Hot chocolate and S'mores in the backyard with a fire pit.

7. Everything and everyone is back in full-swing mode. I get crazy bored with the slowness and absentee energy of August.

8. Good cheesy soft rock sounds so much better in cool-weather. Elton John's "I guess that's why they call it the blues" or any Classic Rock/Folk music like Carole King's "So far away".

9. The crunch of leaves under your feet in the city brings up a whole host of movie memories like any movie with Meg Ryan in it....(When Harry met Sally, You've Got Mail. )

10. Not feeling guilty about wanting to lay horizontal on the couch with a blanket and warm tea, because its cold as hell out there, and laying here with a candle burning and quiet contentment in being still and grateful is productive enough...for now.

Palin Balin Bo-Balin...Banana Fanna..Fee Fi Fo..Hell No.

Wow. Has it almost been a week? I pinky swore a friend that I would post. I am back. Truly. The world has been rainy and I have been sick, and by God, there is too much to talk about NOT to throw my dribble on the pointless wall of this blog. Can I be obnoxious today? No, here goes.

I think I want to hear Sarah Palin come out to a podium to Katy Perry's "I kissed a girl" or Pink's new song called "So What?". It would be amusing, and I might actually laugh instead of shake in my boots. Seriously, the nomination of Sarah Palin has been a strange and intriguing event. I have had a muzzle on my always spewing mouth. It is complicated (what isn't?). I am offended that women are supposed to like her because she is a "hockey mom" or because she has five children, or a set of boobs and speaks with a "folksy" twang. Honestly....no thanks.

Now, I am the first to enjoy speaking "crazy" with people. Its a language that can be fun, entertaining and button-pushing. But she supports Pat Buchanan....(crickets). That is a dialect of crazy I can't even rationalize. She has been a life long member of the NRA. She doesn't support gay rights/marriage and a woman's right to choose. Allll done for me. Would it be neato to see a woman in office? Sure. Just not that one. Mostly, because I couldn't stand listening to her voice and I don't think her "pitbull/lipstick" comment will penetrate 3/4 of the world-a platform of people she would have to be able to engage.

Why is it that a woman has to come off as sarcastic and smug to be taken seriously? Why can't a woman carry grace and facts and strength without needing to seem catty and facetious? Oy-vey. I am a mother, I love hockey, I support a woman's privacy with her family and teenagers, yet I believe none of those things have any baring on the right to help run the most powerful country in the free world. Surprisingly, I am impressed by McCain on a human level. I am impressed by his wife's ageless face and incredible fashion sense (Gold Oscar Del a Renta?!), but his judgement with Palin is stiffeling.

It actually hurts that a woman is pushing boundaries and attempting to beat the odds of nay-sayers and doubters in my voting lifetime, and I cannot support her. Not on her X chromosome alone. There are issues too great. I spent too much time in women's studies classes to vote anyone (man or woman) into a place of power that ultimately disagrees with some core beliefs I hold. We'll see what happens. I will cringe at her ingenuine concern for women, and I will endure several future speeches where she takes low blows at Obama, because at the end of the day, I am fascinated that we are all tuned in, arguing, thinking things through and wanting our respective "change" to come to fruition.

One of the co-founders of the blog cluster I contribute to gave some insight last week. I will let her research lay before you here: Sarah Palin You Scare Me!

I will sit back, wait for the Biden/Palin debate, which I guarantee will light me up. Again, the double standard of women being taken seriously. Everyone is saying: "oh Biden will have to be very careful...not to be condescending" or "Biden will walk a tightrope". Bullshite. If she wants to run for office, and be taken as seriously as any HUMAN demanding the same respect, and proving the SKILL SET needed, than she should be treated as anyone. Is that not what women for decades have been fighting for? let's see her cleavage in Vogue! (sheesh) I will stop.

Happy Saturday!

Writer's block and pop commercial songs.

You may have noticed...I am not writing as much. It certainly is not from a lack of material. There has been the DNC sparkling moments, followed by the McCain's nomination of Sara Palin (the hockey mom-moose hunter) from Alaska, Gustav's imminent crush on the west bank of New Orleans, my sweet-sweet dirt bag David Duchovny apparently has a legitimate sex addiction? "Life imitating art" doesn't quite sound so charming in that case.

No, I have tons to say about all things trivial and tragic. I have just been uninspired. I hate endings...Summer is ending. I loathe commitment...I have been getting concerned or disgruntled emails reminding me that it has been five days since I posted. (some people give me suggestions on what to post...ha). I am rebellious by nature, especially to obligations. I have been sick, blah blah,blah...Frankly, I am no good at excuses. I do, however have a good friend who is fantastic at them, and therefore I will share his list of "10 good enough reasons I haven't blogged". I laughed, cried and tinkled a little just re-reading it!!!

So, have faith, dear readers. I will bring you my deepest, inner most freakish thoughts again, truly. I just need to get a grip, have some monkey sex, stop feeling sick, find a slightly compelling take on any number of crazy stories this universe is creating, meditate more, block my crazy exes who have been reading this thing (I'm not a fan of people who have seen me naked, now reading my thoughts and fuzzy feelings) (( but I guess I tossed that boundary of possibility out the window when I first took finger tip to keyboard last fall...and that's what happens when your blog rolls in 4000 visitors a month)) I wont complain, but I am fighting the urge to self censor.

Fashion week, US open, RNC (where Van Halen's "Right Now" gets played...I love that song. Don't you picture yourself doing really important and kind things to such a song...in slow motion? Like hip-checking an elderly woman to get the next ticket at the deli counter), and random superstar breakups are on their way for next week. I can feel it in my bellybutton. For now, send love and safety out to those on the Gulf Coast. Celebrate the next 48 hours as the summer days wind down and bask in the excitement and newness of a fall breeze and fresh new season.

Oh! and on a really cheesy ending to a really drawn out, irrelevant and boring post, I give you my favorite pop-commercial song right now. From nothing less than an (pause for sighs) AMERICAN IDOL: Jordan Sparks. This song just makes you feel good. It makes you bop your head, smile a little and carries hope. Try it. If you hate it....throw a tomato at your computer. Love and hair grease. See you tomorrow! "Hurry up and wait!"

Laugh if you will, but it makes me feel 14 again...so...eat it.

Woody Allen's Vicky Cristina Barcelona is...

I went to see Vicky Cristina Barcelona last Monday. I have been a long time fan of Woody Allen movies. You might say I have an appreciation for babbling, neurosis, and hidden humor in the awkward moments of unraveling or attempting to be something only to discover (with witnesses) that you are a foibled version of your best projected self.Some how, in all of his movies love and lust and the pursuit of oneself is always sad, tragic and funny all while being smart. This movie was all of those things.

Set in beautiful Barcelona, two close friends Vicky (Rebecca Hall) and Cristina (Scarlett Johansson) go on holiday for the summer. Early in the trip they discover Juan Antonio (Javier Bardem) as an infamous painter, known in the socialite scenes for his torrid failed marriage to Maria Elena(Penelope Cruz). The story takes off on its tumultuous tumbling through the curiosity and push-pull flow of new love, infatuation, and obsession after Juan Antonio proposes a weekend trip to both the girls to see a painting.

He has an aloof and passive seduction that is penetrating. He seems to want the girls very much, but in the same instant could be unfazed by their refusal. At one point he makes a strong argument with a soft voice...(I'm paraphrasing, here): "Life is long, and dull and painful, why not enjoy each other's company with good wine, good food, and good sex?" In that very moment, as a woman, the ideal of it doesn't seem as insane when coming from his sexy lips with such brazen candor and genuine unfiltered desire.

Needless to say the girls accompany him on a whim and the characters build through small scenes that carry much to identify with. Vicky is a grad student who is very New York-astute. She is practical and unemotional. She has a plan, a fiance and good sense of the necessities of relationships rather than the romantic notion of love. Cristina, in stark contrast, is also a student interested in film and and photography. She doesn't like staying in one place for too long, and by her own confession: "I don't know what I want, I just know what I don't want". Her character reminded me of myself at 19 or 20. Taking yourself too seriously, using your sexuality for gain, but never truly knowing what to do with the attention you acquire, therefore, abruptly changing direction to start anew.

Juan Antonio is remarkably hot. I think I blushed in some of the early scenes. His eyes are so open and attentive, yet he carries an aire of calm and control at all times. He is artistic and passionate, but also extremely forthcoming. He woos Vicky with a Spanish guitar player and wine and a meeting with his father, quickly letting her go from his mind due to her imminent future of marriage. Soon, he is in a full live-in relationship with Cristina (who knows nothing of the encounter that her best friend and boyfriend had that one night.). Maria-Elena returns to his house after an emotional breakdown and is taken in by both Cristina and Juan-Antonio. Thus, making the three-part relationship transparent and intriguing. Not in a sexual way, per say, but in the very human and vulnerable situations all lovers struggle with. The "Ex-factor" is dealt with in full-force and honesty. There is an experiment with surrender.

The laughs are consistent but slightly veiled with sadness. All parties in this movie are yearning for something more, wanting to feel with fury. Maria-Elena says: "Only unfulfilled love can be romantic." At first blush, it sounds ridiculous, but as it soaks in, I begin to agree on so many levels. What cannot be, is often what drives passion, desire and idealism....if it has not been proven otherwise...it remains whatever you want it to be.

Penelope Cruz comes into the film in the late stages, fiery and beautifully crafted. She is sullen and intense. Hard and incredibly soft. She lives up to the legend the Juan-Antonio makes of her. Again, his sensitivity to women and hysteria is something I have never seen in life or film before. He accepts tirades and emotions from women as something that "happens" and he manages them with compassion and strength. It is almost something I cannot articulate, you can only feel it (as a woman) when you see it.

I won't give away the major plot twists, but the stand out performers to me are Javier Bardem and his steamy cool and Rebecca Hall in her pinned-up, fight against her own romanticism vs. realism. There were a few scenes that explore the inevitable human nature of misunderstandings and Javier Bardem's character speaks so honestly it is shocking, but more refreshing than the cool blue and stone of the Spanish scenery behind them. He holds nothing back, and plays no games. He speaks directly and even his painful words come out bouncy because his intentions are to communicate, not to hurt. (oh....I would love a Spaniard).

The narrator is a bit annoying at times, sounding like a young Woody Allen. Booby Johansson gets on my nerves with her mimicking of Woody himself, with the over-turned limp palms and the inflection of her voice during her babbling, stuttering whiny scenes at times.

If you are a Woody Allen fan, see it. If you are not, be warned that it might not be your cup of tea, but the acting, story and sardonic tone is worth the ten dollars. I personally think Woody has evolved into a place that is tragically baring the sad truths of love and it's life long quest. I'd say one of his best.

Love is always fleeting. Romance is a fragile idea we are capable of destroying as quickly as we create it, and three is too many for me.

Need a quick laugh? Dating, mating and what not to say.

I have been talking to a lot of single friends lately and although I am often envious of the free-time, the luxury of boredom and the endless possibilities that await every encounter ( getting on a plane, a new party, a chance meeting at a BBQ) I can't help but feel a tiny bit of relief from not having think of witty ways to answer good (or bad) lines.

Humor trumps almost everything in my book. I have dated a few fuglies simply by wearing my "he makes me laugh-goggles". So I have an appreciation for men who can jest at the circus of one-liners, opening a conversation with a stranger, and forced awkwardness of the dating world. RADAR 100 writers: Todd Levin, Jason Roeder, Mike Sacks, Ted Travelstead wrote this ages ago, but it still makes me laugh out loud. I hope it does for you too..

From Radar magazine...100 ICEBREAKERS TO AVOID :

A few of my favorites.

2. "You're not going to believe how many pig anuses the average hot dog contains."

9. "I can see you're not one of those 'shallow' people who's super-concerned about appearance."

22. "Were those earrings given to you by a pimp because you're his favorite baby doll?"

39. "Man! Why won't this DJ play some George Thorogood already?"

49. "Binaca blast?"

57. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again: 'The more you Mace me, the harder I love."

98. [Laughing nervously.] "You're just going to talk to me until someone better comes along, aren't you?"

99. "You know what would be fun? Trust falls."

73. "I think it's so cool that you're black."

It's Friday, the weekend before the "last weekend of summer". Enjoy it. Say something silly. Make someone laugh. Kiss with passion. Love with ferver.

I will be over here in my complacent relationship corner cheering you on with mild apathy and a little bit of jealousy.

It's the little things...Matt Lauer and Al Roker take on Rhythmic gymnastics and ribbon.

I wasn't sure today was going to be such a great day. I was tired, a little crabby and not feeling well. when I woke up. Then, I turned on NBC's TODAY show and saw none other than Matt Lauer and Al Roker preparing to learn Rhythmic gymnastics.

While watching the Canadian Olympic hopeful, Alexandra show off her moves, Matt said to Al: "Are you ready for this? You're going to end up with that thing in your back." Al replied: "Forget this, I should just try Javelin catching." (ha!) Javelin catching!? That was great. KUDOS Al. I usually don't laugh at your jokes...well played. The men were then dressed in red, white and blue unitard contraptions and proceeded to carry through a male-tandem-ribbon-routine. Ahhhh...my morning recovered with some hard laughs.



It takes some real man-up power to wear those outfits, show off your wrist agility, dance in tandem to "Dream Weaver" in front of millions, and most of all (Matt Lauer) to keep a straight face.

Long, slow clap for the two of you. Well done. Thanks for the little laughs that kept on popping up all day!

Jon Hamm in Best Life Magazine. Move over Brad Pitt.

Here here to Missouri boys! You all know I had a crush on Don Draper, AMC's Mad Men superstar. The thing is; he is a character. Dark, calm, tortured, full of secrets and unpredictable whims of his weaknesses(women), surprisingly fair and HOT = Lulu Dreamboat.

I wasn't expecting the real man behind the character to be so damn complex, intriguing and down right affable. Thanks to Joel Stein's self-deprecating and perfectly crafted descriptions of a day spent together, we now get a glimpse into this manly man anti-stereotype. Best Life's John Mather and Joel Stein put together the best friggen snapshot of Jon Hamm. I know they write for men, but this article evokes all kinds of terrible, horrible adulterated wants from a self-respecting mother and wife.

Let's be honest just looking into Jon's deep-set cold green eyes can send a shiver down the spine of the most heterosexual man. His seemingly constant furrowed brow and stubble? That nose makes you take him seriously, and all that hair? Well...I applaud you, Jennifer Westfieldt; you are my new female hero for today, so far. Out of respect for you, Jen, I won't even dive into my minds imagination of what lies beneath those grey three-piece suits. I will stay with my crush on Don, instead of Jon. But can he swim the backstroke? (I digress).

All those genetic gifts and completely superficial attributes are swell. But seriously, I don't really care about looks...C'mon, Bill Murray, not-so-hot vulture financiers, Nigel Lithegow...enough said. What makes Jon Hamm so sexy is his disinterest in trying to be so. He just IS sporty, approachable, confident, aware of others, no stranger to tragic loss, and somehow completely flying below the bullshit radar of those men that are trying too hard...way too hard. You know who you are!

One of the funniest lines in the article was when Stein found out Jon wanted to meet at a golf range. He writes: "The driving range? Is the bull-fighting stadium closed for the day?" As there meeting progresses you can feel the humanity in Jon. He appears to be the kind of man who listens to your story without you telling it. He seems like he would be conscious of your presence beyond what it means to his career or ego.

Far more interesting than his real-guy demeanor debunking the ideal he portrays; is the fact that he plays Don Draper so well by acknowledging how hard that time period was for men, yet somehow keeping the character plausibly a good guy (who does bad things). Up until I started watching Mad Men, I had assumed those were the glory days. Men ruled the world, and everyone was Clever-happy. Jon is quoted in the article saying:

"They were full of shit. They didn't know what they were doing. It makes you look at what that definition of 'being a man' really means and is there a happy medium? Instead of subscribing to this definition of a man or dude or guy, do what you want to do, buy a fucking yellow Mini Cooper. Get over it. It's a fucking fun car to drive. You can do all the other man stuff and be unsatisfied."

Not only does he soothe the Mini-cooper driving dude that was interviewing him, he makes multiple statements about acceptance, self-actualization and non-judgement with two f-bombs and a disarming tone of realism in less than five sentences. I WANT HIM.

Go pick up a copy of the magazine or check out the article when it is posted on BEST LIFE'S WEBSITE.

...and thank you dearly, Joel Stein and John Mather. The rest of August and September will be richer, warmer and steamier now that you have made me laugh and lust after Jon Hamm.

John Mayer AND Bill Murray are free fallin' !

I haven't gone to bed before 12:00am (CST) in over five nights. It feels awfully like the constant haze fog of sleepless nights with a newborn. I dream of swimmers bodies, and releve turns on the beam. For the record: Bella smacked my bum in the 80's after an aereal dismount from the beam. (He visited the M-Gym in Houston)....who cares. I DO care, however, that my old lover Bill Murray (who has aged 10 years since his recent divorce, eeekkkkk) will be jumping out of a plane today on North Avenue beach for the 50th Air and Water Show. I love you Murmur. You know no one can hold a candle to your Vietnamese triple ripple tongue play. I miss you!

So.... It's Friday. I'm getting more concerned about Gerogia and Russia. So should you. Phelps is actually so amazingly incredible that its not really fun to watch anymore. It just reinforces the rule of too much of anything loses its luster. So do less, screw up here and there to generate some doubt, then kill it. Or not...whatever.

I want a gymnasti bottom...now. The stock market is rather boring lately, several state officials are considering 4-day work weeks, just in time for the entitled recent grads to abuse it and leave the rest of us trying to sell our proven abilities of over-productivity in less time. Sasquatch was found in northern Georgia (US)? That was insane! Ellen D is getting married to her hot girlfriend Portia this weekend, and hush your face People Magazine....JEN and JOHN are NOT broken up..... are they?!

In absolute hope and willing for the love of happy people; I share this. John Mayer's beautiful rendition of Tom Petty's "Free Fallin" from his new live album: "Where the light is". It is so love-beaming and sweetly apathetic that I dare you to TRY to stay in, have, or spread a bad mood after hearing it....




He is a "bad boy". Most are. Most don't even miss us. But some do. I have no shame in missing all kinds of wonderful people. You shouldn't either. Love big. Live now and enjoy the weekend for the little moments that lead to the big memories.

Take notice of those you haven't lately and listen to your heart.(remember THAT song?! Ha.) Give it wings today and fly with what comes. Maybe it is the gentle quiet and hum of the crickets, or the sound of children laughing. Perhaps you sink deeper into the love of a woman's soft voice or the smell of her hair, or you spend a long night with a good friend telling good stories.

Live it. Love it and be kind.

Happy Friday.