Family Trip To The Olive Garden

My family is in the process of finalizing our summer vacation plans, and thank God I convinced Sandy to go in August instead of May so I can have something to look forward to all summer. 

We are renting a villa property in Italy for a week called Gli Ulivi on the Amalfi Coast.  My dad seems unable to pronounce Gli Ulivi, so he has just been calling it the Olive Garden.  This is disappointing to me because normally he takes his best shot at pronouncing something in a different language and then just adds a bunch of foreign-person-type swirling hand gesticulations to make it seem authentic.  I hope he hasn't given up!

This is an email from Sandy I received today:

Hi, Everyone, I think we're firmed up on The Olive Garden for the week in August, so it's safe to make reservations.  Send me your passport numbers sometime.  They're going to ask me for them eventually. We are definitely taking out travel insurance.  The world is so uncertain now. My travel guides suggest you get an international driver's license if you're planning to rent a car.  And the rental cars all seem to have manual transmissions!  I'm glad Bill can drive those.  I'm not learning at this point in my life, and previous lessons have not gone well. I remember my father screaming - "Stop! No! Never do that!"  Well, I think he was yelling about my driving.  Maybe it was something else.

Keep in touch.  Love, Me

I'm not sure what risky thing my mom thinks might happen in Italy.  Too much cheese?  That's not uncertain though, that's just a given.  Or perhaps, more politically speaking, Prime Minister Berlusconi declares war on STDs thanks to all his run-ins with underage hookers?



This was drawn from my home computer.



Tsnownami



This is how we get yellow snow! 
In related news: this is the kind of scene that makes me not want to get a dog.



We are all cooped up inside on this snow day ... and we think that's something we're supposed to complain about, but, we're pretty much inside all day, every day anyway.  Hooray for adulthood!  Also: in spite of the tsnownami, our place of employment is the only entity open for business in the entire city, so here we sit, hard at work! 

Today, we have accomplished many things and are looking forward to the rest of the day.  We took a life-threatening leisurely stroll into work, where we arrived late, watched the last half of the Teen Mom 2 episode we cut short last night so we could get to sleep early in the hopes that we would go to the gym this morning, which we did not end up doing.  Then, we did about fifteen minutes of real work, took a long lunch with Derrick, and now we're getting ready to leave early.  All while wearing jeans like the true rebel we are.  We love faux-snow days!

About Teen Mom 2.  Other than Leah, this is the most unsympathetic cast of bitches we've ever seen.  Jenelle says things like, "I would stop smoking pot if I got custody of my son," Kailyn doesn't see anything wrong with dating another guy while she's living under same roof with her ex-boyfriend and his parents, and Chelsea's boyfriend wears shirts that show his nipples.  And this is the nicest way we can write this ... the babies are of inferior cuteness to the kiddos of the original cast.

On another note, this little gem came from Sandy H. via e-mail.  She always likes to keep us posted on the greater Charlotte-area drug-ring activities, and now you know too:

"The Cornelius police busted a pot farm (in a locked room on the 2nd floor) today at a restaurant, 'The Creole House,' on Main St.  The food there was so bad I always wondered how they stayed in business. Now I know.  Love you, Mom."

Sandy H. Has Recovered From Post-Traumatic Dancing With The Stars Disorder

“If I’m being honest with you…..”

Thoughts on American Idol by Sandy H.

In June of 2002, the first season of American Idol launched and in Pass Christian, Mississippi, Leigh Ann and I were mesmerized by this marvelous new form of reality television.  Brooke and Randy were out of college, off the family payroll, and onto actual gentle employment.  Bill was away on business most weekdays so Leigh Ann and I would join the family cats in front of the television twice a week religiously.  Leigh Ann would be draped over the sofa in sweaty riding clothes, and I would be wearing something… well, fabulous probably, and sipping a glass of pinot grigio.  Kelly Clarkson became our girl.  For the first and only time in my life I voted EVERY WEEK for her. (No thanks necessary, K C. It was my pleasure.)

But the real draw, the guilty pleasure every week was British judge Simon Cowell.  When he would start a sentence with, “If I’m being honest with you…” you knew, you absolutely KNEW someone was about to be eviscerated, savaged, driven to tears or blind rage.  Some poor nineteen-year old had stood for hours in the blazing sun or pouring rain to sing (and in those days it was really bad Mariah Carey or Celine Dion) in a stadium or hotel ballroom or old theater.  She had driven hundreds of miles and brought her two best friends and grandparents, all of whom had told her she was waaaay more talented than anyone on the radio.  And then Simon would say, “Do you have a singing teacher? Do you have a lawyer? Then you should get a lawyer and sue her.”  His compliments, because they were rare, were all the sweeter and more precious.  You saw pure, sheer happiness and pride in the singers’ faces.

How is American Idol, which starts Wednesday and Thursday nights this week, going to survive without him?  Can new judges Stephen Tyler and Jennifer Lopez  step up?  Will returning dawg-man Randy Jackson, who will sit in Simon’s chair and give the final critique, be more demanding? Well, "if I’m being honest with you,” I don’t see it happening.  Still, you’ve had a good run, American Idol.  Although I for one will be watching, at least in the beginning, what I’m really looking forward to is Simon’s new show, The X Factor, starting in the fall.  Searing comments.  Humiliating moments.  And hearing him say, “All I could think of when you were performing, is how I would pay you to stop.”

Check out charming and lovable Kelly's audition below.  BONUS FEATURE: vintage Seacrest!  And don't even get me started on co-host Brian Dunkleman, who stupidly bowed out after one season because the show was "too mean."  I wonder if Ryan Seacrest sends him a holiday card from aboard his yacht every year.

Poopies

I had a tremendous time in New York this past weekend visiting Randy and Chris.  I experienced one of the most fun - and by far the gayest - days of my life when the city greeted me with brunch drinks within an hour of arriving, followed by a trip to Barneys and a viewing of La Cage Aux Folles, rounding off with a cabaret performance by genderqueer and lesbian separatist Justin Bond.

Since our Saturday was so drag-driven, our visit to Ellis Island on Sunday involved brainstorming potential 19th-century immigrant drag names during the ferry ride.  We came up with the following personae:

Alice Island
Deportia
Donna Corleona
Ellis Island Fairy
Quarantina
Tubercu-Laura
Typhoid Mary
Scarlett Fever
Scarlett Beaver

On Saturday evening at dinner, I started getting all (drunkenly) blubbery about my sisters-in-law and how much I love them, and how much I always wanted a little sister.  Randy had told me several years ago that when I was young I wanted a little sister named Mary (Typhoid Mary?).  I always had this maternal instinct thing going on, then Randy reminded me about the Little People play sets from Fisher-Price I used to be obsessed with. 

These were perfect little child-grip sized people (although based on the picture below, they have a much looser definition of the word "people" than my generation did, what with the example being some sort of genetic pig mutation with a thriving commercial pilot career) that fit into different little holes and whatnot.  You can spend hours organizing them and lining them up.  So fun! 



OMG, an airport!  How fun!

While I heard everyone call these toys "people," for some reason what came out of my mouth when calling them by name was quite different. 

I called them "Poopies."  I always had to run off to go play with my Poopies.  What's that you say?  You need me to do something right now?  Sorry, I'm busy ... playing with my Poopies.

Sandy H. has this to say about the matter: "Yeah, we called them People.  You called them Poopies.  People (Poopies) donate them to Habitat for Humanity.  I saw some today including the furniture which included a potty chair for the baby Poopie.  They still make them but a different version since 1990.  Apparently they were listed in a book called Toys That Kill.  That put a damper on things for a while.  But they still make them.  Also, Googling 'Little People' will catch you up on dwarfism."

Me as a child, not a self-imagined dwarf.

Christmas Hiatus and Our First Drawering of Franco

We are super excited that Christmas break is finally upon us.  Derrick has one more final exam and then we're off to North Carolina to perfectly split our time equally between our two families!  You can't let anyone get jealous of anyone else so early in your marriage.  Remember that, ladies.

Part of our time is going to be spent holed up with Bill and Sandy H. off the Blue Ridge Parkway, minus internet, and the rest of our time will be spent eating Derrick's Mamaw's Balls of Fury.  Get your heads out of the gutter.  They're peanut butter-butterscotch balls, they're about 5,000 calories apiece, Christmas is incomplete without them, and you will die unhappy and unfulfilled if you never get to sink your teeth into one of Mamaw's balls.

It should be a really fun drive tomorrow.  12 wrapped gifts, 11 bottles of Leigh Ann's hair products (those points don't just happen, you know), 10 Christmas playlists that we hope Sandy H. won't deem obnoxious (Destiny's Child Christmas tunes, hello!  Classic!), 9 DVDs for when DirecTV gives out in the mountains, 8 extra pounds I've already gained since Thanksgiving, 7 weathermen predicting wintry mixes, and ... 6, 5, 4 of ... something, 3 bottles of Prosecco, 2 cat anxiety pills and 1 super fat and adorable cat who would eat the partridge and the pear tree if given the opportunity.

So... good-byes can be awkward, much like the number 2011.  Which is when we'll be back.  Seriously, 11, what's the deal?

The Christmas Cards

One of my coworkers wondered recently if distributing Christmas cards designed by her four-year-old daughter would be deemed cute or nauseating.  She could not decide if the card recipients would think she was forcing her daughter's art upon them and she would thus be deemed a compliment-fisher.

This may come as a surprise, but I don't usually have an opinion about most things; I tend to see both sides of most issues.  It's not that I don't care - it's probably just that I'm a Libra.  Also, sometimes, yes, I truly don't care.

But not when it comes to Christmas cards!  Of course my coworker should have her child create her cards.  I didn't have to debate for one second about this issue.  Sandy H. used to have the three of us design our family Christmas cards.  She didn't have to wonder if people would think she was fishing for fake compliments because she knew that we were all immensely talented.  Obviously, my children will be truly artistically gifted if they are borne from me, and I won't think twice about forcing a pen in their chubby little hands the millisecond they develop any sort of motor skills and seeing if any Christmassy-looking item appears on the page.

We lost all the samples of our old Christmas cards in Katrina, but the memory of one of the earliest copies stands out in my mind.  Randy, around age 10, drew a gorgeous set of three wise men that looked almost exactly like this:

Brooke, probably around age 5, was assigned the daunting task of drawing the manger scene.  What she drew came out looking like this:

As the resident three-year-old, I was a girl who knew what I wanted.  And I didn't want to do what I didn't want to do.  And what I didn't want to do was draw anything that was not a candy cane.

They tried to stop me.  They tried to tell me the candy cane didn't belong in the nativity scene.  I didn't give a fuck.

I wanted to draw a fucking candy cane and no one was going to stop me.

So the final result looked pretty much like this:

DWTS Week 10: If You Don't Vote, Don't Complain, But Please Don't Shoot Your Television

Several of you informed us that we did not mention that Sandy H. wrote last week's DWTS recap.  Even though it was tagged under "Mom," "Sh*t My Mom Says," and "Guest Bloggers."  So, let us clarify here and now: this is Sandy H.'s last recap!

“Our most talked-about season ever!”  Tom Bergeron crowed repeatedly Monday night.  Not sure folks were talking about the dancing though.  One of our dancing couples received death threats and was forced to stop the tweeting that appeared to escalate the threats.  In Vermont a viewer, annoyed by the results and – according to his wife – off his meds, shot out his television last week.  At Cats in Baths, however, we are always on our meds, and we are always all about the dancing  - especially during finals week. 

Monday night began with our finalists Kyle, Bristol, and Jennifer doing a “redemption dance,” the single dance the judges thought each contestant should have performed better.  With Jennifer there was really only one dance that qualified – the paso doble, in which she had received her lowest score of the competition.  There was no doubt a wider selection of disappointing dances for the judges to choose from for Bristol, but the jive made the cut.  (Remember, this is the one they danced in gorilla suits, memorable for all the wrong reasons).  The judges’ choice for Kyle was the foxtrot, danced originally to a disco number and which we agree was a little weird. 

Monday night Jennifer’s beautiful redemption paso doble earned 10s from all the judges and a rare solo standing ovation from Len.  “I didn’t want this ever to end! I wish I had an 11!”  Bruno bubbled, and we agree.  We rewound just to watch it again, and it was even more fabulous the second time.  Kyle didn’t disappoint with his redemption foxtrot.  A huge improvement over the original, it was full of energy and excitement and earned him 9s all around.  Bristol’s redemption jive was better than the gorilla-suit version, but she’s still stiff.  Her partner Mark’s high, energetic steps are so precise that he makes her look even more unsure of herself.  Still, the judges found it a “vast improvement” and gave her all 9s.  As our friend with the shotgun might say in his gentler moments, it really didn’t deserve three 9s.  On the other hand, if you’re judging on improvement….well, maybe.

For their second dance, our competitors had the popular and important freestyle.  We know this because a bunch of people from past seasons told us the freestyle was really popular and important.  So did the judges.  So did Tom and Brooke.  This is how we strettttttcccccchhhhh nine minutes of dancing to an hour and thirteen minutes.  Anyway, Kyle’s freestyle was the “Tootsie Roll.” Although we did not learn the tootsie roll at the Alker School of Ballroom Dance in Mississippi and are thus unable to judge its technical merits competently, Kyle is still fun to watch.  There is no one of the three contestants who has come a greater distance in his dancing than Kyle.  From someone full of jokes and giggles the early weeks (and in the bottom the first week,) he has clearly tried so hard and succeeded beyond our wildest dreams.  His tootsie roll earned him two 10s and a 9 from the judges for a total of 59 for the evening.

Bristol’s freestyle was the “Cell Block Tango” from Chicago, which she had neither seen nor heard of.  Nor has she ever seen a Broadway show.  Mark probably put his finger on one of the problems (and perhaps should have gone to Plan B when he realized it) when he said that Bristol was intimidated by this dance because of her total lack of familiarity with it.  The judges pointed out that this particular dance is almost iconic and that expectations are high when it’s performed.  The Bob Fosse choreography is sharp and sultry and sexy, and that’s just not in Bristol’s range.  In short, she was painful to watch. Still, the dance earned her two 8s and a 9, for a total of 52 for the evening.

Jennifer’s freestyle, danced to “Do You Love Me?” was an effervescent, exuberant twist full of lifts and jumps and spins.  Len said she has been “a consistent, persistent juggernaut.  Fantastic!” Carrie Ann said she was “amazing.”  Bruno pointed out how much range her two dances of the evening had shown, from the dark and dramatic paso doble to the bright and bouncy twist.  It came as no surprise then that her second dance also earned her three 10s, giving her a perfect 60 for the evening. 

Tuesday night, after our competitors perform two more dances, we’ll see the “Mirror Ball Trophy” awarded to one of our three finalists.  Kyle has certainly shown the most improvement.  Bristol, probably the least gifted dancer ever to be in the finals, has been the most talked about.  Jennifer came into the competition with arguably the highest expectations of any contestant ever having starred in Dirty Dancing, one of the greatest dance movies of all time.  In this our last week, we’re just trying to be fair.  We’ve enjoyed the show this season, and we promise we will be happy no matter who wins.  As long as it’s Jennifer.

Sandy H. wouldn't let us watch this movie when it came out.
Wonder why.

The Stupid Ballet

I took ballet for several years as a child, but I quit after 6th grade when the other girls got way too snobby Sandy H. offered to buy me a horse.  But I never stopped loving ballet.  Sign me up for a viewing of Center Stage any day!

A few years ago I decided to share my love for this art form with Derrick and combine it with his deep, mad love for all things Christmas: I took him to see The Nutcracker!

At first he went all "reluctant boyfriend dude" on me.

But he soldiered on and went with me anyway.  What a champ.

When the curtain opened, he was still skeptical, but then he heard the irresistible and recognizable melodies, which, he wants me to add, he used to play in symphonies when he was a brilliant child musician prodigy.

And then more magic unfolded.

And then...

And now Derrick loves The Nutcracker.  Giant Christmas trees can change anyone's mind about anything!  We just bought our tickets for the 2010 P. Family Nutcracker Viewing today.  Yay, Christmas is coming!

Breaking English News: Prince William Engaged While Widdy Breaks It Down On The Dance Floor

Here we are, near the end of our journey with Season 11 of Dancing with the Stars.  Our two pre-season favorites, Brandy and Jennifer, were, to no one’s surprise, in tonight’s semi-finals.  Also in the semi-finals were the previously unknown (to me) Kyle, doing surprisingly well, and one very long shot, Bristol, still hanging in there in spite of weeks of being at the bottom of the judges’ leader board.  The question on everyone’s minds:  Why is Bristol still here?

The question on my mind:  Why do we vote the way we do?  Apparently it isn’t just Americans who throw the judges’ numbers out when deciding how to vote. Last week an English acquaintance brought me up to speed on this season’s Strictly Come Dancing on the BBC, the show that, on our shores, became Dancing with the Stars.”  (We share two judges, Len and Bruno, who fly back and forth during the simultaneous parts of the seasons).  One contestant, Ann Widdecombe, a former Member of Parliament, has become quite the limey lightning rod.  A Rubenesque 60-something lady with a sweet smile, “Widdy” clearly has no talent, rhythm, or ability.  (See her photo here and tell me The Situation and Kate Gosselin aren’t looking better to you?)  She has been urged by some to quit the show.  The purists say she is de-valuing dance, but still the viewers keep voting her in.  Judges and dance aficionados are horrified.  Why?  People are voting for the person they like, the person they want to win.  That’s it.  Really, neither Strictly Come Dancing nor DWTS is a dance show.  That’s why there are soap stars, retired football players, and “teen activists,” on them.  If they wanted a serious dance competition, all the competitors would be professional dancers. What if the American television audience chose the winner of the Nobel Prize for Physics?  You know what would happen: viewers would vote for the person they liked – the best looking or the one who had a couple of cute kids.  We viewers don’t know anything more about ballroom dancing than we know about physics.



Behold, the grace of Widdy.



On Monday night Bristol finally gave her supporters a reason to cheer, earning three 9s from the judges for her first dance, a paso doble.  Len called her “Bristol the Pistol” and told her this was her best dance.  The audience gave her a standing ovation.  Her second dance, a waltz, was not as well-received, but still earned her a 26.  Bruno probably echoed the sentiments of many in the audience when he told her, “You have really had a journey.”  Unfortunately for Bristol, her best night was overshadowed by the best nights of all three of her competitors, all of whom outscored her.  Her final total of 53 was her highest yet, but still left her in fourth place. Jennifer earned six perfect 10s and an outpouring of praise for both her cha cha and waltz.  Bruno described her as “vibrant and sexy, with flawless execution” and told her, “You are a great dancer and never forget it.” “You are one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen,” Len effused.  Interestingly, Brandy earned almost as much praise as Jennifer, but was outscored by one point by Kyle. The judges cheered Kyle’s “bionic bum” and “pelvic action” in his samba, and his tango made Carrie Ann compare him to (DWTS winner) Emmit Smith.  He ended the evening with four 10s and two 9s for a total of 58. Brandy’s paso doble, strangely dedicated to “anyone who’s ever been bullied,” earned her three 9s, and her tango was worth three 10s, leaving her at the end of the evening in third place with 57.

DWTS managed some interesting filler material this week, stretching eight dances of a minute and a half each to (only) 91 minutes this week from their usual 120.  Friends and family described why each contestant has the ever-popular drive to win.  With that, we got one of the stranger mixtures of people on the planet on one show: Whitney Houston, Lou Gossett, Sarah Palin, and Jamie Lee Curtis.  Brandy and Jennifer have both been involved in horrific automobile accidents with fatalities.  Because of this Jennifer has had to deal with multiple surgeries, which she underwent years after the accident in order to appear on Dancing with the Stars.  Brandy says she was called a “murderer” after her accident and couldn’t leave her house for months. Kyle and Brandy came from humble beginnings, have both been child stars and have endured the ups and downs associated with that path.  Bristol was humiliated when her normal life was interrupted with a teen pregnancy played out in front of millions of people during the 2008 election.

So which three will be in the finals?  I’ve got my fingers crossed that my girl Jennifer will be.  She’s the only one of the four who’s never been in the bottom and, after Monday’s performance, she shouldn’t be tonight.  Moving along this same path, since I don’t have any reason to think this week will be any different from the other eight, Bristol will survive. (Last night she said that people vote for her because she’s real and not “phony Hollywood.”  You mean like your three fellow competitors, who are all from Hollywood?  That ought to nab you the Most Popular award in the dressing room).  So will Brandy make it an all-girls’ final or will Kyle make it through?  The way things are going this year with eliminations, who knows?  I still miss Audrina.

Thank God She's Back: Sandy H. Overcomes Illness To Guest Blog For Us While We Draw More Drawerings For You

So I missed a few weeks of DWTS, and my plan was to catch up on the stars and their dance moves online.  This means walking all the way to the second floor office and potentially watching HOURS of television to catch minutes of dance (I tried; I just couldn’t).  Do you realize how much they stretch this show?!  Last night the remaining five couples danced two dances for a minute and a half each. That’s a grand total of fifteen minutes of dancing out of one hundred and twenty minutes, most of it spent on miscellaneous chatter and nonsense. 

We had:  Jennifer’s dad telling her the show must go on and an orthopedist telling her maybe it shouldn’t, Kurt’s children giggling over silly scripted lines, and Bristol’s parents marveling at her tango.  In a pretty hilarious bit, Steve-O tried to teach Kyle not to be distracted from The Dance by what’s going on around you. Where were Brandy’s peeps?  I have no idea.  I was exhausted by this time. 

But enough about me and my frustrations.  Let’s have a pop quiz. Who killed hours of prime time Monday night with the following insightful questions:  “How proud are you of yourself?”, “How happy are you right now?”, “Where’s the drive coming from to see you through?”, “How challenging is this for you?”, and the ever popular “How do you feel?” alternating with the equally popular “How did that feel?” 

Correct if you answered Brooke Burke!  And Brooke doesn’t care what the answer is!  Frankly I don’t think she’d notice if they answered: “I’m not happy, have no drive, and do not find this challenging at all.” She has said that she has an earpiece so the producers can tell her what’s going on, how much time she has, and when to go to commercial.  At the same time she has to ask questions and comment on the answers.  This is HARD.  Well, if they were paying her a hundred a week or so, I’d say, yeah, maybe, but they’re probably paying her at least twice that, so can’t she figure out how to show some interest in what the contestants are saying? 

Monday night featured DWTS’s first ever “insta-dances” in addition to the dances the couples had practiced all week. For the insta-dance the contestants knew which dance they would be doing but did not know the song to which they would be doing it until minutes before they danced.  Apparently this was not that tricky, as the insta-dances provided some of the highest scores of the season, with Kyle getting two 10s and a 9 and Jennifer the first 10s all across.  Brandy and Jennifer ended the evening tied for first place, each with total scores of 57.  In her first dance, the quick step, Jennifer managed three 9s.  Brandy’s first dance, a waltz, was “an exquisite interpretation of a song, a symphony," according to Bruno and earned her a 29.  Her insta-cha cha yielded a 28 and some testy words between judge Carrie Ann and Brandy’s partner Maks. (Well, when you start an instant dance with a few seconds of walking down the stairs, you can expect repercussions from the judges.  They hate that).  Kyle ended the evening just one point below the two leading ladies with a 56.  The judges gave his first dance, a waltz, three 9s with Len telling him, “You were a bulb last week and this week you’re an orchid.”  His insta-jive to “Good Golly Miss Molly” was a huge hit.  He had the crowd on its feet, and Carrie Ann said it was “the most fun she’s had on the show this season.”

Now you may want to be sitting down for this next piece of news: the two at the bottom of the leaderboard were Kurt with 48 and Bristol with 47. So why do people continue to vote for these two?  In spite of their obvious lack of musicality and natural dance abilities, they both just keep soldiering on, clearly trying as hard as their more talented opponents with weaker results.  Personally I think Kurt is adorable, and Bristol has overcome her shyness of the early weeks.  Now she’s at least giving Brooke more than a one-word answer to those ridiculous questions.  They and their partners were obviously disappointed with their 8s, but honestly, I thought 8s were about right – even generous.  So do you think Bristol and Kurt will be in the semi-finals next week?  We’ll have to tune in tonight to find out.  I thought Audrina would be in the finals, so I’m staying away from any more predictions.



Sandy H. picked up a few of these guys on the cruise ship,
but thank God she didn't let it stop her from enjoying two painful hours of DWTS.



Everybody Puts Baby In The Middle

I didn't vote yesterday. 

Sometimes the guilt of not bothering to vote can be overwhelming, thanks to the in-your-faceness of "VOTE VOTE VOTE!" brought to my senses by every Facebook status, every blog, and simply by being on a college campus, but then I shrug my shoulders and remember why I didn't vote in the first place: because.... meh.

I think my apathy political moderateness stems from being the baby of the H. family and always feeling stuck in the middle of hair-pulling arguments lively debates at holiday gatherings and meals.  Both of my parents are SUV-driving, Wal-Mart-shopping Fox News watchers very conservative and both of my siblings are Subaru-driving, co-op-shopping, non-air-conditioning-using granola crunchers very liberal. 

In the past, if I became too uncomfortable  people at other tables started glaring at us a discussion became too heated, Mom wouldn't be able to think of anything nice to say and didn't want to perpetuate the drama, so she would force a smile and say, "That's so great that you're so passionate about this issue!  What a great country we live in!" 

Then I take the opportunity to shout, "Did you all SEE what BRITNEY SPEARS did this weekend?  OMG, it was ALL over the news!  Crazy!  Gurl needs to get her SHIT together!!!"  Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't, and sometimes I replace Britney with Paris or Lindsay or some other troubled star.  If we were at a family gathering this week, it would be poor Demi.

Am I ashamed that I am more likely to have a knowledgeable and civilized discussion about celebrity gossip than I am about politics?  Meh.



I wonder if Britney voted yesterday.



More Stressful Than A Vacation

I don't want you to think I've become an all Dancing With The Stars blog, since I don't really even like the show and haven't ever seen an entire episode of it in my life, so I'll just say this: Rick Fox was voted off last night, which is lucky for him, since he spent approximately 5 of the 10 minutes I watched talking about how incredibly stressful it is to be on this show.  He said he would rather be in Game 7 of the NBA finals, on the free throw line with "everything on the line," and that would be less stressful than being on DWTS. 

But it's okay now, Rick, because you have much to be thankful for, and you no longer have the stress of Carrie Ann and Bruno on your shoulders.  You're rich, tall, athletic, racially ambiguous, you date the naughty vampire slayer, and you went to the greatest University known to man.

Thank God Sandy H. is back next week.  She says: "Six straight days at sea is a lot."  Yeah ... vacations can be tough. 

Back to processing credit cards in my windowless cubby.

Stupid Christine O'Donnell, Hating On Sorcery

I wrote a DWTS recap that involved lots of funny quotes from Derrick, and I so smartly put my notes in my purse so I would remember to bring them in to work, where I can blog without the distraction of Gossip Girl - which, by the way, had the worst episode EVER last night.  Seriously, I don't know why I watch it.  I suppose that no matter how terrible the plot lines continue to be, I am always going to be one of Blair Waldorf's minions. 

But anyway, back to my notes.  Naturally, having recently been made fun of by my boss for having a pink purse that clashed with my red coat (hey ... it was a long, tiring, confusing day when that happened), I wasn't going to make the same mistake twice, so I brought a different purse in to work today.  Maybe I can write it up when I get home, but it will be difficult to make a 7 PM post about last night's DWTS relevant, partially because I know somewhere in there I wrote that they drag the show out for two long hours by airing at least one hour of commercials, which is currently including some delightfully hateful smear campaigning for today's midterm elections. 

Although, I do appreciate any last-ditch effort to get a laugh out of Christine O'Donnell.  She says "I'm not a witch" like it's a bad thing to be a witch!  I would love to be a witch.  Then I could wiggle my nose and have my DWTS notes in my hand instead of at home.  Or better yet, I could wiggle my nose, create a pile of cash, become independently wealthy and be able to be at home all the time!  And just come in and process credit cards from time to time because I want to.  Stupid Christine O'Donnell, hating on sorcery. 

And now, a note from Sandy H., who's floating around somewhere in the Atlantic, and managing to keep up with her DWTS research, among other activities:

"There's a man here in the library/internet cafe who's saying that people are 'stealing my newspapers!  I don't want to be on a ship of thieves!'  I wonder where he plans to get off.  We're 2,000 miles from land.  Let me tell you, there are some strange birds on this vessel.  Just left rumba class.  I'm getting better, but that is a relative thing in this case.  Yesterday was the tango and I was abyssmal.  Tomorrow is the waltz.  Rolling out of bed every day to go to abs class.  Yesterday there was a martini tasting.  At last something that I have been trained for."

Me, in my dreams

My New Favorite Game

I have a new game called "Where's Franco?" 

I often lose him in the nooks and crannies of our small apartment that happen to be busting at the seams.  When I think I have looked everywhere, I panic, entering worst-case-scenario mode bestowed upon me by my dear mother.  I begin to believe he has somehow grown three feet taller, evolved 3 million years to develop opposable thumbs, and gained supercat strength to open a window and jumped 20 feet to his broken-bodied, bloody death. 

Or worse, that he's managed to weasel his way inside the wall and has gotten his voluptuous, curvaceous body stuck back there and I'll never find him, until I hear his sad meowing somewhere back there with all the rotting mouse carcasses, but the fire department can't get him out in time before he starves to death, because being the diva that he is, he turns his nose up at eating rotting mouse carcass. 

Or worst of all, that he's somehow unlocked both locks on the door, with those new opposable thumbs, and escaped into our building's hallways, leading to a hefty fine from our apartment management company!

I am starting to realize that I am going to be the world's most paranoid helicopter parent.  My unborn kids have a lot of freaking out to look forward to.  I can't wait to pass it on to them for my grandchildren, the way Sandy H. has passed it on to me.

Luckily, we usually find Franco.  Where's Franco?

Some of these are the guest towels. 
And yes, I plan only on lint-rolling them before handing them off to you.
Martha would not approve.

Hating Duke Without Borders

Sandy H. reports from dinner time in Morocco:

"Tonight we sat next to a guy who went to Duke. He was an a*#hole."

Not that we needed any more of an explanation, because our most recent run-in with a Duke grad involved him calling us "slow-minded" within two minutes of meeting him for having gone to UNC, i.e. the Southern Part of Heaven.  But Derrick wanted to know more, so we had to ask why, specifically, this guy was an a*#hole.

"I - I - I - Me - Me - Me - My - My - My.  He SAYS he was head of a 300-person law firm (your dad doubts it).  Thinks Chapel Hill is not a 'real town.'  I said, 'Have you been there lately?'  'Many times!'"

We have to interject here and ponder the existence of Durham as a "real town."  We would call it a "real ghetto town," a "real ugly town," a "Voldemort is real and he lives in this town..."  We could go on.

Sandy H. continues: "Is thrilled UNC was bad in basketball last year, hopes it happens again, does not like Roy.  Coach K is the world's greatest coach.  Has traveled everywhere, done everything, knows everything.  I could go on but this re-cap is ruining my morning."

Ours, too.

"It was a challenging evening, but I've been proud of me.  I have conversed with everyone, even a*#holes, and said nice things about everything, even Duke.  Nearly killed me."

Our friends over in London, like us, hate Duke with an infernal passion undying, and encountering obnoxious Duke people outside the U.S. border only adds fuel to that lava-spewing cauldron of hatred.  You can read all about their trans-continental hating here and here. 

Lord Voldemort, Hannibal Lector, Hitler's ghost,
and the douchey kid who wrote I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell all live here.

This Is Payback For All Those College Application Essays Mom Wrote For Me

Ladies and gentlemen, I present my attempt at taking over Sandy H.'s Dancing With The Stars Recap while she is lounging around on a cruise ship, pounding pinot grigio.  I had never seen the show before, and I could only watch the first hour because Gossip Girl is basically my religion.  And before you start harping on the amazing technology of 2010, listen: CiB doesn't pay well enough to afford DVR.

So.... how are we going to stretch this shizz into two whole hours with only 7 dancers dancing for about a minute?  I know.  Let's show the Top 10 DWTS performances of all time, as voted by our viewers! 

#10: Shawn Johnson.  I keep thinking about that stalker she had.  Scary!  #9: Donny Osmond.  I keep thinking about how he's a Mormon.

I'm falling asleep.  It's a good thing tonight is no-wine Monday, otherwise I'd already be halfway through one R.E.M. cycle and it's only 8:05. 

I don't know the celeb at #8, but he's dancing with the Proactiv girl who's dating Ryan Seacrest.

Apolo Ohno is at #7 dancing with Proactiv girl.  I can't believe Apolo was on DWTS.  It's 8:10 p.m. Only 50 minutes until Gossip Girl.

#6 is Joanna Krupa (whoever that is) and the brother of Proactiv girl who's also dating the stunning and talented Cheryl Tweedy.

#5: SCARY SPICE, OMG!

#4: Nicole Scherzinger, during that period when Dancing With The Stars became Dancing With The Dancers.

And a commercial break.  8:20 p.m.  20 minutes of my life gone.  20 minutes closer to death than I was 20 minutes ago.

#3: Apolo again!  The ladies loves them some Apolo.

#2: Gilles Marini.  Wasn't he the dude who gave frontal in Sex and the City: The Movie?  Nudity could make this tango a little more exciting.

#1: Drew Lachey.  The #1 dance as voted by viewers out of 1,000 dances involves a solid 5 seconds of piggyback riding a dude to the tune of "Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy."  Brillz.

30 minutes until Gossip Girl.

Audrina's partner is the first person ever to accuse her of "thinking too much."  I am distracted by Audrina's implants.  Her too-tight tank forces them up under her armpits.  Very unsettling.

Audrina looks gorge.  Inspiring me to hit the gym in the a.m.  Or not.

Kyle and Lacey are dancing to Adam Lambert.  You have 7 rock songs to choose and you first chose Queen, and follow it up with Glambert?  I question a lot of ABC's choices, and if you've ever seen so much as a single commercial for Wipeout, you would too.

It's 9 p.m.  Time to give up on this and go catch up on the avant-garde artistic stylings of the greatest show of our time.




Blair, pie, and minions.

 

It Doesn't Take Long For The H. Family Reputation To Make Itself Known

Sandy H. has just arrived in Portugal and writes:

"Greetings from Portugal!  This is the lovely view from our hotel room:

...And so begins the tour of eating and drinking. They already know us and wave when we walk by the hotel bar.  Fewer than 12 hours in town."

Bristol Palin, Maybe You'll Get Lucky and Your In-Flight Movie Will Be "Snow Dogs."

Sandy H. has decided that to celebrate the anniversary of the day she gave birth to the greatest person in the world, she is taking a cruise through Portugal, Morocco, the Canary Islands, and across the Atlantic to the Bahamas, so this will be her last DWTS recap for a while.  I'm going to sacrifice watching Gossip Girl for the next two weeks so I can try my hand at not just writing a recap but actually sitting through an entire episode of DWTS, which I have not yet accomplished in my 29 years.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sandy H. writes: Happy Birthday, Bugs!  Guess what!  You're 8 years and 364 days older than Bristol Palin.

I miss the old Dancing with the Stars:  The crying, the fights, the divas.  The producers must miss it too so they’re getting a little desperate.  Last night Jennifer walked out on Derek during rehearsal to … take a walk.  She took her purse!  Will she ever come back?  Yes, she did!  That was pretty much it.  And we must have seen at least three or four promos of this excitement. 

During the first-ever TV Theme Week on DWTS our stars in Week 5 seem to be either too nervous or too tired or just too bored to show the passion and emotion that makes us want to watch them.  Brandy and Maks’s quick step earned their highest score of the season – a 27.  Dancing to the theme from Friends, they want us to know they really really like each other so much in spite of their earlier difficulties.  (I enjoyed the difficulties! And I’m not buying this friendship thing one bit).  Florence and Corky danced to –you’ll never guess this one – the theme from The Brady Bunch. Even though their tango earned only 21 from the judges, it was their highest score of the season.

One reason we watch DWTS is to see the progression the stars make from non-dancers to ballroom swans.  We think that just maybe we could dance too.  Of course, with weeks of professional training, not to mention the help of Hollywood stylists and makeup people, maybe we could.  (Also, the fear of public humiliation in front of 20 million people would be incentive enough for me).  Favorite question from Bill H. during past DWTS:  “Which one’s the pro?”  This year he’s not asking that so much.  In Week 1 Jennifer and Brandy and Audrina were really good.  They’re still really good, and most of the rest have just sort of plateau-ed.  So 4*s this week to Kurt who finally jumped off the plateau with his adorable foxtrot to the theme from Bewitched.   The judges praised his “easy casual” musicality that reminded them of Gene Kelly.  Bruno said he was “brilliant.”  The dance was good enough for Len to stop talking about Kurt’s huge “ham hands.”  Apparently, that’s a good quality in a football player, not so much in a ballroom dancer.  Kurt earned his highest score of the season, a 24, as did Rick, who hauled out Kobe Bryant and Coach Phil Jackson to tell partner Cheryl what a Hard Worker and Perfectionist Rick is.  Although Len said his rumba was “not a romance, more of the couple staying together for the children,” he still gave Rick an 8. Way too high as far as I’m concerned.

Jennifer and Audrina danced well last night, but, given their excellent past performances, they underwhelmed.  The judges gave Audrina a 23 for her rumba to – here’s another shocker – the theme from The Hills.  Did someone hear that song and think what an amazing rumba it would make?  Really?  And Bruno wanted Audrina to be “pulsating with passion” during her rumba.  I mean, Audrina is sweet and beautiful, but I just cannot imagine her rumba-ing with pulsating passion.  Still, what do I know?  I’ve never met the girl.  Jennifer did a more than competent foxtrot, earning her a 25, the second highest score of the evening.  Compared to her fabulous tango from last week, the judges seemed disappointed, as were we.  That’s too bad because if almost anyone else had done the same dance, we would have been thrilled.  That’s what you get for being fabulous.  You spoil us.

 

At the bottom this week were Kyle and Bristol.  Kyle and his partner did a sort of disco foxtrot to the Charlie’s Angels theme that’s just hard to explain.  It was the old John Travolta disco-arms-over-the-head thing but with foxtrotting feet.  To answer your question, yes, it was as weird as it sounds.  Len said, “It started bad and it gradually got worse and worse.”  He awarded our boy a 5, but the other judges were kinder and Kyle ended up with a total of 20.  As far as Bristol goes, we’re all still trying to get that girl to show more personality.  Her partner Mark really did all that he could do, bringing in clowns to teach her to do big smiles and big sad faces.  The pair donned monkey suits to jive to the theme from The Monkees.  Unfortunately, a personality still didn’t emerge, and it didn’t help that she forgot a lot of the routine. Her 18 was the lowest score of the evening.  I think Bristol may be headed back to Alaska, and, big sad face here L, yesterday was her birthday. 

Next week we have “Rock and Roll” Week to look forward to, the first week the dancers will perform two dances each. That will surely separate, as Judge Len says, the “dancers from the chancers,” whoever they are.  



Pack your bags, Bristol.



Because You Don't Watch It But All The Ladies In Your Office Do And You Want To Fit In

On to Sandy H.'s Week 4 Dancing With The Stars Recap!

“That was a get-a-room-dance!” – Host Tom Bergeron to Florence Henderson.

We said farewell to Margaret Cho last week.  I won’t miss her or her dancing, but I will definitely miss her adorable parents sitting in the front row of the audience every week.  It was always good to see them sitting there looking happy and so obviously proud of their daughter.  Margaret says such mean things about them in her standup act that either they are the most forgiving people in the world or their English skills are limited.

Monday night it was all about Brandy, Audrina, and especially the fabulous Jennifer. You heard it here first: These three girls will be in the finals.  No one else is even close.  Receiving the first 10s of the season and a score of 56, Jennifer was dazzling in a tango that was described by the judges as “incredible,” “precise,” and “amazing.”  Even with a neuroma in her foot and screws in her neck, this girl is a wonder, and it didn’t hurt that her music was an actual tango.  Sometimes DWTS hurts its performers by using music that is a little too hip for the occasion.  Brandy - wearing as little as is legally permissible on television: her underwear and a scarf - looked beautiful, her rumba earning her a 48.  Her partner Maks skipped the spankings this week, thank goodness, and the two seemed more connected in spite of the cheesy “date” the producers cooked up between the two.  Something tells me that when all this is over, Brandy and Maks won’t be getting together braiding each other’s hair, and reminiscing about the good times on DWTS. Audrina’s tango couldn’t quite match the magic of last week’s waltz.  Len said he was “not transported,” and Bruno found her “cool and detached.”  Still, the dance earned her a 46.  Anyway, let’s celebrate Week 4 with 4*s to these girls for pulling away from the rest of the pack.

Just to shake things up, DWTS celebrated an “acoustic” week with the dancers on a small, round, elevated stage inches from the audience.  Dancing rumbas or tangos, each couple received two scores: one for technique, another for performance, with a maximum score of 60. With two sets of marks showing just how far ahead Jennifer, Audrina, and Brandy are from everyone else, maybe we should hold off on doing that again any time soon. (The Situation’s score was exactly half of Jennifer’s.) The night’s theme may have been acoustic but the overall tone was, as judge Carrie Ann said in describing Florence’s dance, “sexy, raunchy, dirty.”  The Sitch finally showed his abs; Bristol’s partner did the whole tear-the-shirt-off thing; and Florence’s passionate rumba embarrassed the judges.  The bottom six are getting a little desperate.

The Sitch’s tango was arguably one of the worst in the history of the show.  Personally I think Kate Gosselin’s paparazzi number holds that honor, but The Situation is very, very close.  Judge Len Goodman described it as “consistent – bad throughout.”  The Sitch’s partner Karina danced around him.  He was just a piece of equipment, unable to manage more than a couple of steps and lifts. With a score of 28 (and that’s out of 60, mind you, NOT 30) Mr. Sorrentino is probably out the door. Bristol’s unfortunate rumba, earning a score of 32, was not much better. She seemed to spend a whole bunch of time lying on the floor, limiting her actual dancing.  And that may have been the plan. Her partner Mark tried to convey the emotion she was lacking with the old shirt removal trick.  Didn’t help. 

Athletes Kurt and Rick were in their usual middle positions, scoring 34 and 39.  Why did it seem this week that several of the stars weren’t holding up their end of the deal, just standing there like poles for the pros to dance around?  We already know the pros can dance. That’s why they’re there.  I think Kurt and Rick have lost interest, and as a consequence we’re losing interest in them.  No interest = no votes.  That’s not the case with Florence though.  She may have only gotten a 35, but when you’re 76 and people describe you as “dirty and raunchy,” you know she’s leaving it all on the dance floor. Doesn’t mean she can dance, of course, but she wasn’t so bad she’ll be gone this week. Kyle wasn’t bad. This may be damning him with faint praise, but he was the best male celebrity dancing last night. He’s 19, enjoys a great cheeseburger more than a great rumba, but at least he looks as if he’s having fun and trying.

Florence and Kyle, Kurt and Rick may be especially lucky that this is the season of The Situation and Bristol. I will be amazed if those two aren’t out this week and next. I keep waiting for them to surprise us and finally grasp the whole concept.  Hasn’t happened though. They just seem to have hit a plateau of bad dancing that isn’t going to change.

As soon as I pushed “Send” on the blog last week, I regretted what I’d written. I hate it when I do that. I’ve been really hard on Bristol and I want to apologize. I realize that for most of her life she was just a Regular Girl, becoming famous suddenly because of a series of events – some of her own doing, some not.  She’s competing against seasoned performers who, if not dancers, are certainly accustomed to crowds and critics and interviews. (For the sake of argument, let’s just agree now that what Audrina and The Situation do on The Hills and Jersey Shore can be described as “performing.”) I have been critical of Bristol’s modest clothing choices on the show, but the person I should have been talking about was the middle school girl I saw get off the school bus on our street this week.  Did her mother actually let her go out of the house like that?  And her school did not send her home to change and/or call Child Protective Services?  Jeez.  So here are 4*s to Bristol and 4*s to all the shy, fashion-challenged, small town Regular Girls who take a chance and step outside their comfort zones.  Not enough of us do that. At 19 I could never have done what Bristol’s doing.  Even for money.*

*Okay, maybe for money.





What everyone wants to be this Halloween:
A Step Outside of Your Comfort Zone.



Best Wishes To The Frickin Newlyweds

Sandy H. writes: "Just perusing the women's sports section.  Ms. Bloom married Mr. Frickin in Chapel Hill at Fearrington Village, with bridesmaids' luncheon in the South Parlor of the Carolina Inn and the rehearsal dinner at Top of the Hill.  Sounds nice, except I wouldn't want to be Mrs. Frickin.  Too many Frickin jokes can be made with this name."

Mom is right, and not just about the Frickin name.  The small-but-noisy parakeet-like feminist inside us shakes her head at the notion that the Celebrations page of the Sunday paper is viewed as the women's sports section, but the keeping-it-real garbage-eating pigeon in us knows it's true, especially in the South.  There, you can date a man for several years and be pitied for being perfectly happy with your unmarried life and not placing some sort of proposal ultimatum on his stopwatch - not that we would know what that's like. 

Once you've made it to the Celebrations page, where in some circles you will already be deemed a winner, how will the rest of us ultimately determine who the real winners and losers of this page are?  Of course, the true winner is any bride who marries the right groom for herself, and blah blah blah, cupcakes and rainbows, but since we can't tell that from an announcement, we'll go straight to the more superficial bullet points for spotting the losers.

There is a 100% chance that these brides are wearing tiaras, and their bridal portraits sometimes feature stuffed animals from their childhoods.  Before you scoff at this like it's something we made up, believe us, we've seen it before, and not just with a stuffed animal - with a Cabbage Patch doll.  There is probably mention of a "miniature bride and groom" as part of the bridal party.  The cake topper was totally hilarious and involved a plastic bride dragging her plastic groom across the top tier.  It's funny because men don't want to get married!  Ha ha!

There are so many excellent avenues to take to play voyeur to these loser weddings.  If you are looking for a laugh sometime this week, and want to reaffirm the fact that your wedding had/is going to have a "W" next to it on the Celebrations page, the CiB team recommends checking out Tacky Weddings, Wedinator, or the tangentially-related and always amazing Cake Wrecks.  

Men HATE commitment!  He's really in for it now, I tell ya!  
How hysterical and not even remotely cliche!