Monday, January 31, 2011

Amateur Hour at The Sag Awards: Ricky Gervais, I Missed you!

This statue is about to get molested by Betty White... and like it.

Can the Screen Actors Guild not afford to hire a host? What's an award show if you don't have a host mocking the very people they are there to honor? The SAG Awards were so boring, however, it would have taken more than outing John Travolta to make it remotely entertaining. Here are my (equally boring) thoughts:

Hey you. Yeah you. The one who thought it would be a quirky unique little way to start the SAG Awards by having actors who looked pained in a manner like they were having an appendectomy with no anesthesia to give a cute anecdote about being an actor. Are you still employed? You might not be by 5:00 pm this evening. In my (vast) experience with termination etiquette, seems they always fire people at the end of the day. Clean out your desk and start downloading some secret files now just in case.

Do the SAG people think us normal people who just tune in to mock actors give a rat's ass about the power struggles and internal politics between their various professional societies? I mean, do I care if the Saggers merge with some other competing actor-y group and when and how and what that will mean? And who was that fat guy who informed us of this potential merger? Was that the white guy who lived upstairs from the Jeffersons?

Don't you think the Golden Globe executives are a bit miffed at Annette Bening? What does she have against the Golden Globes anyway? Why did she look like a cross between Ed Asner's character from Up and the wife from the Addams Family at the Golden Globes, and like a goddess at the SAGs? Whose that really old guy with her anyway?

Good chance Steve Buscemi will never receive an award again no matter how deserving. I mean, you're best actor and you can't get through two 1-minute speeches without making dumb excuses? "I didn't know Best Actor category was up first!" and then later "I wrote my notes for Best Ensemble Cast on my Best Actor note card!" And why didn't the ensemble cast people do a last-minute vote and rescind their offer to let Buscemi talk on their behalf after he messed up the first speech? Steve baby, you shouldn't have reminded us you even had notes guiding you through the first speech. Sheesh. How hard is it to accept a freakin' award?  Not that I'd know...

I think the same person who had the bright idea for the opening montage was responsible for the Ernest "Ernie" Borgnine Lifetime Achievement Award. Didn't the guy (he's 94 for the love of God!) deserve a tribute that didn't look like it was strung together by some intern flunky? And on the off chance my place in hell isn't already etched into the reservations page, did you see Ernie's wife? I'll just leave it at that. If you saw it, you know what I'm talking about. If you didn't, words can't describe. And Tim Conway. You're awesome. But would it have killed you to wear some reading glasses so you could get through the script? Annette wasn't wearing hers, so I'm sure she would have let you borrow them.

Is Claire Danes really that big of a moron? I mean, really? Plus, I thought she was with that guy who left Mary Louise Parker high and dry seven months pregnant? When did they break up? And she has since gotten married? What the hell? People, keep me informed, would you?

Christian Bale. Still drunk. Still bearded. Still English. WHY CAN I NEVER REMEMBER THAT? But thanks for the lesson on how to get in the biz! I am endlessly fascinated by people too! Sign me up to star in a major feature film! Since I'm going to hell anyway, his wife is a bit too gummy for my taste. (Oh c'mon! She can take it! She's married to Christian Bale!)

Just in case I haven't been clear enough about this, I love love love Jeff Bridges. Love. And, I think it's best I go ahead and admit it: He's overtaken Daniel Craig as Number 1 on my list. Granted, I'd prefer it be from the Fabulous Baker Boys era. But that's not how the list works. You can't say, for example, "Warren Beatty, but before the chicken neck." No, there's not a time traveling element to the Top Five List. Take it as it is or leave it. And Jeff Bridges, I take it!

Why did it look like Nicole Kidman just got back from the gym and threw on an (ugly) outfit and then grabbed some (tacky) jewelry and sprung Keith Urban from the crate she keeps him in down in the basement and ordered him to put more gel in his hair and off they went? I'm not so sure Nicole and Keith have a marriage certificate or she has whatever paperwork one needs to prove a pet is indeed theirs.

Last night I decided I don't like Julianna Margulies. No reason in particular. Just don't.

I am actually quite upset Helena Bonham Carter wore matching shoes. Again, the Golden Globes people must be pissed. Why do celebs clean up so much more for the SAGS (besides Nicole Kidman)?

Don't you get the feeling Natalie Portman is a nerd. I mean, like a complete dork? And her way of trying to convince people she's not a geek is by using the word "asshole" during a television broadcast when she's about to give birth to god only knows whose baby? Nat, sweetheart, using a naughty word while knocked up doesn't make you cool. And by declaring you're never an asshole while in fact being an asshole is sort of being a a double asshole. (Isn't saying "asshole" on live network tv the definition of BEING an asshole?)

That's all I got. The whole thing left me uninspired.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

An Important Announcement Part Duh

Potty seats make interesting if unsanitary head gear.

When one announces one's children are potty trained, one's children should in fact be potty trained. Because soon after I pressed "publish post" with an air of mild smugness (the "mild" is because when children are over 3 and just getting potty trained perhaps immense smugness is overkill) Lulu announced she "had an accident" which was actually no accident because I caught her purposely squatting in a closet defecating in her Hello Kitty undies. I have no problems with the accident part of course. The part I have a problem with is my husband was out of town and normally when a task like scraping shit out of cotton undergarments arises, I delegate it to him.

Partially potty trained doesn't really work for me. I don't like uncertainty. The constant vaguely anxious feeling reminded me of having a partially monogamous boyfriend throughout college. Is he out sleeping around on me right this very moment? Will we be out in public and she'll crap her pants? See, the unease of both are similarly disquieting. Although at least my angst over the potty training lasted less then a week. Try four years of wondering if your alleged boyfriend was cheating, with the answer 9 times out of 10 being a big Hell Yes. My favorite was when he was humping his high school co-worker from TCBY. The Country's Best Yogurt indeed! I grew suspicious as she began interrogating me when I went in for a peanut butter shake on a day he wasn't working. He scoffed when I confronted him, noting that she was still in high school for Christ's sake! What kind of person did I think he was? Well, it turns out the kind who contracts crabs from an underage high school girl. (I feel the need to confirm here I was not infected, because by the grace of God he was too busy screwing jail bait on a frozen yogurt-making device to be intimate with me during this unfortunate time in my life).

And while I'm on the topic, I might as well mention this particular boyfriend lavaliered me for some reason still unbeknownst to me and proceeded to sleep with a freshman the night of my sorority candle light ceremony. (If you are unfamiliar with the antiquated customs of sorority life, consider yourself lucky.) And, because my best friend from high school thinks no conversation about this person is complete without the following anecdote, she came to visit me in college for a week during her school's spring break and he uttered exactly one word to her the entire time: "Cups." (Why that was the particular word he chose is not the point. The point is she was my best friend and he couldn't be bothered to say more than one word to her the entire week.)

What am I getting at? Good question. I think I was saying I prematurely announced the girls were potty trained and it's been a rough few days but they are in fact now potty trained. Pretty much. They still wear  diapers at night but I don't particularly care if they do that until they leave for college, where hopefully they will have better taste in men than I. 

PS -- I don't know the ethics (or good taste?) of combining a post on potty training with that of an STD-laden ex, but well, too late.

PPS -- You know the DUH in the title was purposeful and I don't think that's how two is spelled in French, right?

PPPS -- Speaking of French, I have mentioned that I took like 14 years of French and yet all I know how to say is "Centre de plounge" (spelling not so sure) which means scuba diving shop, correct?

PPPPS -- Okay, just one more thing. Really. I must say I have no hard feelings, actually I have fond ones, for my philandering college boyfriend. He meant well. He just liked the ladies. A lot. You might suspect as much, but I was no angel... Although I did keep my dalliances to those of the legal variety.

Friday, January 21, 2011

What's In a Name?

So a very lovely woman asked me to do a guest post at a blog that specializes in baby names. That was back maybe in the fall and I just got around to it yesterday. Keep in mind that people go to that site LOOKING FOR A BABY NAME. You know that old expression -- know your audience? Well, if you went to a site looking for advice on baby names, would you want to be insulted by a bitch who thinks it's funny that she would have named her twins Lulu and Moxley if she was famous? Probably not. So after I submitted the piece (below), she very kindly told me perhaps this wasn't up their alley given that, among other things, 15,000 people named their daughters Madison last year and a large majority of women who visit the site meet my definition of "unstable." Well, I spent a whole 10 minutes on it so I didn't want to put it to waste. Here are some tips on naming your baby. Don't read this if you have a child named Madison. Or one named Buddy Bear Maurice Oliver for that matter. Or if you name your babies before they are even conceived and then accuse other people who have real, non-fictional babies of stealing YOUR baby name. Or if you are Nicole Kidman, Gwyneth Paltrow or ... you know what? Maybe nobody should read it.

Eight Tips on Picking Out a Name

I assume you are over here at (the blog's name) because you are expecting a bundle of joy and are debating monikers for your impending little one. Either that, or you are one of those unstable women who name their children years before said children are conceived and are here to see if other people are “stealing” your name.  I say “women” because men almost never think up names for children that don’t exist.  It’s the one and only way in which they are the superior gender.

So if you are in fact perusing for a name, I have some helpful tips for you:

1. It’s always a good idea to name a child after a cherished relative. Or better yet, a rich one. One of my twin daughters is named after my maternal grandmother, unfortunately not for the latter reason.

2. If you’re going to stick a child with a bizarre name, after a day of the week for example, give their siblings an equally tortuous name. This brings to mind Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban. Their first daughter is “Sunday.” They just had a second daughter born on Tuesday, December 28. Instead of naming her “Tuesday,” they chose “Faith.” Don’t they think someday Sunday is going to wonder why she got stuck with the weird name and her sister got off so easy?

3. Speaking of celebrities, unless you are one, don’t name your child after a fruit.

4. And even if you are a celebrity, have some compassion. I’m talkin’ to you Katie Price and Jermaine Jackson. No child deserves to be emblazoned with Princess Tiaamii Crystal Esther Andre or Jermajersty Jermaine Jackson.

4. People will not think you are creative if you spell your child’s name in a funky way. They will think you are illiterate. Think Jaycub instead of Jacob, Brittni instead of Brittany, Jourdynn instead of Jordan, and J’son instead of Jason. (Yes, people have done it.)

5. The name Madison should have remained nothing more than a mermaid in the movie Splash. Unfortunately, every elementary class in the United States is filled with them. On behalf of Darryl Hannah, don’t perpetuate the trend. She probably feels guilty enough as it is.

6. Consider how much money and power you have when naming a child. The more money and power, the more leeway you have with names. When the kid is teased on the playground, will he be able to retort, “My daddy can buy your daddy’s company and fire him!” and actually mean it? Well, then, knock yourself out and name your son something like Buddy Bear Maurice Oliver like that overrated famous chef Jamie Oliver did. 

7. Be careful with nicknames. Oh sure, he may be your little “Mikey” when he’s three months old, but nicknames have a way of sticking. And a 23-year-old Mikey (or even an 8-year-old one) isn’t quite as cute.

8. Remember this is your child’s name. Forever! Give them a lovely name, a creative name if you must, but one that they will be proud of as a child AND an adult. I am no expert on names. I spent all of three seconds deciding what to call my girls. One is (Lulu's real name), after my awesome grandmother. The other is (Moxley's real name), just because I think the name is so pretty. It wasn’t until I noticed every third child on the playground is (Moxley's real name) that I realized it was so popular. But the name suits her perfectly and I wouldn’t change a thing. So go with your heart like I did and you can’t go wrong. Good luck!

No doubt this is not my best work, and as I said to the woman, I certainly don't want to offend her readers. But I don't mind insulting mine. Okay, I kind of do. I like the name Madison, okay? Mermaids are awesome. I like the name Ariel too. Got nothing against mermaids. Sorry to offend. Sheesh, why so touchy? And if it makes you feel any better Lulu's nickname is the same name as a famous movie star and everyone always asks if she was named after this movie star to which I diplomatically reply, "No, bite me." 

PS -- I lost a follower yesterday. Perhaps they were upset I got the girls potty trained? If I lose some more today, I will assume they have a child named Madison. Or hate mermaids. No hard feelings.

PPS -- I want you to know that I'm going to sit here and pick worriedly at my cuticles hoping I didn't offend anyone. Mermaids, Madisons or otherwise. 

Thursday, January 20, 2011

An Important Announcement

People, I think you might want to sit down for this. As you may know, I have many failings as a mother. My children still drink milk from a bottle. They still use pacis at night (and occasionally at other points in the day just so I can confuse them with inconsistent rules). They are still vegetarians in a very annoying Gwyneth Paltrow kind of way. They might even be vegans except I'm not sure what that means exactly. But THEY ARE NOW POTTY TRAINED. Well, sort of. Accidents are occurring (our couch now has the faint scent of cat urine and we don't own a cat but whatevs) but for the most part, they are using the potty.

This of course occurred BECAUSE of my failing as a mother. I accidentally ran out of diapers. I may write a potty training book. It will go something like this. "Wait until they are embarrassingly old to be crapping their pants. Forget to buy diapers. The End." It will be the shortest best-seller in the history of publishing. Oprah will beg me to come on her show, despite my having broken the publishing world's cardinal rule -- never bash The Opes! I will comply only if she promises -- in writing -- that Jenny McCarthy will not be on the same program. I will be hailed as an international potty training expert and parenting forums will pay me absurd amounts of money to give (very brief) talks on potty training which will consist of "Hello mothers and fathers out there. Forget to buy diapers! Thank you very much! I love you too!"

As seen above, my children are being rewarded with treats as big as their heads. This weekend we have to go pick out bikes. It's the middle of winter in Chicago so I have no idea where they'll ride them but we promised them bikes when they got potty trained. Perhaps I should add in a chapter about bribing in the book -- or better yet, I'll save that as my follow-up parenting masterpiece. So, I'm not sure if there is a Mother of the Year award floating around out there, but feel free to nominate me. My children are almost 39 months old and (pretty much) potty trained. Surely that should garner me something?

Just out of curiosity, when do they start wiping their own butts? When you answer, add on two years past the time most kids do it as that's when it's likely to happen around here.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

2011 Golden Globes: The Scientologists Have a Hit Out on Ricky Gervais

All day I kept saying I was excited to watch the Emmys. I'm not sure what the difference is, but it was the GOLDEN GLOBES, not the Emmys on tonight. But really, who cares? I just watch to see rich famous people make asses of themselves. And asses they did make. Yippee for me!

--Ricky Gervais is my new favorite person. He called Tom Cruise and John Travolta gay on national television. In front of all of their peers. Travolta has a new baby for crying out loud. One should wait at least two months before calling a closeted new father gay. It's just common courtesy.

--Christian Bale, what were you drinking? And / or smoking? Normally I want to immediately sleep with someone who has an English accent. I actually forgot he was English until he opened his (inebriated) mouth. I thought the British had a way with words, but at last count Bale used the word "fantastic" 2,342 times in a five-minute speech. A speech that was cut off by the guy who's in charge of putting on the music when drunk winners blather on too long. That said, who are we kidding. I still kind of want to sleep with him. Just not as much as I used to. Which was a lot.

--If you didn't know bald was beautiful, enter Bruce Willis. Dear God, from Bruce Willis to ASHTON KUTCHER? Do you think Demi Moore bashes her head into her bathroom mirror every night before she goes to bed ? No, probably not. That might knock some of her Botox out of place. But she wants to.

--Michelle Pfieffer, you will go straight to hell if you don't share with the rest of the world what you are doing to yourself. Botox? Fillers? Invasive surgery? A combination thereof?  You don't have a whole lotta spunk left, so I wonder if David A. Kelley had you killed and stuffed like a prize deer. If so, that's one hell of a taxidermy job. I want to be you. Even if that means having to have sex with David A. Kelley, the idea of which doesn't appeal to me.

--Is it safe to say Justin Bieber has peaked? I don't like to encourage underage promiscuity, but he might want to start nailing everything that moves  now. His options may wane and then completely peter out over the next few years.

--Jennifer Love Hewitt looks like the orange twin with a bouffant. She either needs to stop eating carrots or needs to find a new spray tanning facility.  And whether or not she does either one of those things, she must never allow the same person to touch her hair again.

--Notice Angie laying on Brad at their table? I mean c'mon. Don't you get the feeling she does that just in case Jennifer Aniston is watching? Isn't stealing Jennifer's husband and having six children with him enough while Jen resorted to dating John Mayer? YOU WIN ANGIE! YOU WIN!  Why does Angie always dress like shit? I wore a dress eerily similar to this for my final sorority rush party in college. I got dung from several sororities (eff you Delta Delta Delta) just because of that dress. (It couldn't have been my personality could it have?)

--Did you see Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban on the red carpet? Would it have killed her to wear flats? Poor Keith came off looking like her pet chihuahua.

--If you don't believe in aliens, rewind and look at Tilda Swanson. Human? Please.

--Did anyone tell Annette Bening she was going to an award show, a show that will be televised and she actually might win an award? Or did Warren Beatty steal the mail postmarked from The Golden Globes Nominating Committee and sprang the news on her last minute? Regardless, I'll say this about Annette Bening. She is secure aging without pesky little treatments. And she still looks beautiful. I just think she could have showered before the awards out of politeness for her table mates and lost the blind-old-man glasses which resembled the ones Ed Asner wore in Up.

--Speaking of table mates, have you ever seen an award ceremony where winners thank the people SITTING AT THEIR TABLE? ("Shout out to Table #149! You rock!") I mean, why not thank the Golden Globe seating chart committee while you're at it?

--Sandy... bangs? Whose idea was that? Fire them. (although I love you and hope the rumors about you and Ryan Reynolds are true. Yum.) BTW, did you watch that Celebrity Apprentice episode where Donald Trump said you "couldn't have married" him? I bet you actually could have. Not that you wanted to. Although your taste in men proved to be such that I can't really predict whom you might marry.

--Why does Robert Pattinson look better as a vampire than he does as a human? Maybe he could hire a personal makeup artist to make him look like a vampire every day?

--Me so very much likey that Hung guy. Whether he is or not.

--I love Alec Baldwin. He's hilarious. Except when he's calling his daughter a "rude, thoughtless little pig." He's pretty funny other than when he's doing that. But is he starting to look a bit like Liberace? Incidentally when I searched Google Images for a picture of Liberace a bunch of photos of Michael Douglas came up.

--I am currently so enamored with Jeff Bridges it's hard to put into words. Plus if I put it into words it might hurt Daniel Craig's feelings. If you can name someone hotter than Jeff Bridges (besides Daniel Craig) knock yourselves out. I'm all ears.

--Is it required that one give an amateur stand-up comedy routine when one is given a Golden Globe lifetime achievement award? Holy crap what was Robert DeNiro on / thinking / not thinking?

--Why did the top of Halle Berry's dress look like a one-piece swim suit? Don't get me wrong, she looked great. But she looked like she was wearing a bathing suit with a long cover-up skirt. Whatever. She procreated with the hottest man on Earth (other than Daniel Craig) so I'm not one to be critical. But was that a bathing suit? Weird. Not as weird as Robert DeNiro's stand-up comedy routine, but weird nonetheless.

--I've never seen Glee. Ever. And given I have no other New Years resolutions I think never seeing Glee will be mine. I hear it's good. I love that woman who plays Sue. I just have to resolve to do something this year and it might as well be to never see Glee.

That's it. I must now watch Big Love. I sort of forget who was burned alive, who was implanted with incestual embryos and why Bill's mother lopped off the arm of that man married to the cross-dresser. But I'm excited nonetheless. Plus, I heard they got rid of Teeny #2. Thank you Big Love powers that be!

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

We Are Unlikely To Be Friends If...

This cat is more potty-trained than we are or ever will be...

You don't think my kids are cute. Or at least pretend to.

You breastfeed your six-year-old son. In fact, not only would we not be friends I might try to have you arrested.

You are a prescription drug addict. This is not a moral judgement on you. This is a moral judgement on me. You are more ambitious, creative and have a lot more money than I do. I can't even manage to find a way to get my hands on a non-addictive pill that eliminates water weight while you are probably rocking out on vicodin or xanax or a lovely combination thereof. Plus my husband notices when I spend $75. Something tells me if thousands in cash mysteriously disappeared he'd catch on. Before I even had a chance to get a buzz or two.

You inform me either verbally or in written form that you "work hard and play hard." If you say that, chances are you do neither. Plus, you're a moron.

You don't understand the genius that is Barry Manilow.

You are sleeping with Daniel Craig.

You are married to Keith Urban.

Or Tom Cruise for that matter, but for very different reasons.

You, without irony, use use the term "vis a vis."

You forward to me more than two unfunny e-mails that you preface with a note which includes the acronym "LOL!!!!!"  If you write "LOL!!!!!!" I better in fact f***ing laugh out loud.

You do something on your iPhone more than three times during the course of dinner. Unless I am involved and dictating psychotic, threatening text messages to the guy who just dumped you.

You post unflattering photos of me on Facebook. (Note to Facebook friends: I find all photos of me unflattering.)

Four of us go out to lunch and you ask the waitress for four separate checks. The woman isn't a mathematician for the love of god. Plus, you're cheap.

You don't want to engage in discussions such as whether a boring person can in fact bore someone else to death. (I say yes, but unfortunately there is no conclusive test a coroner can conduct so we'll never know for sure.) Once I convince you that a person CAN be bored to death by another person, you're unwilling to discuss whether that person should be charged with first degree murder or a lesser charge.

So how are you peeps? (I should use the singular "peep" given one person -- my mother -- probably still reads this blog.) Happy New Year! I'd like to say I haven't posted in a month because I've been super productive and spent the time potty training and getting my THREE YEAR OLDS off the bottle but alas, no. We're still rolling with poop in our pants and bottles in our mouths. It's starting to get slightly embarrassing. Like when Lulu squatted in the middle of Little Gym class and screamed to me proudly from across the room, "I'm pooping Mommy! Did you bring the diaper bag!?" The thin, blonde bitchy nanny in there I can't stand (her charge hates her too) looked down at me smugly and I almost popped her one. But that would make me no better than Teresa Giudice. And everyone knows I am slightly better than Teresa Giudice.