L-A: I’m trying to think of something clever to say, but it’s getting awfully late and I want to be useful at work on Friday, so let’s just jump into this week’s favourites.
1. I bought a poem for a dollar.
Best dollar I’ve ever spent? Probably. You should buy one too.
2. What happens when you hire Lindsay Lohan
This is a fantastic piece from the New York Times. Not just because it’s amusing to read about what a shit show Lohan’s life really is, but because – and I don’t want to get all former journo-geeky on you – but it’s a really well done piece of creative non-fiction. The first few paragraphs killed me. I loved them. I assume Lindsay does not.
3. These smart and classy dames are hosting the Golden Globes
Wait. Is this the first time it’s ladies only hosting an awards ceremony? Did I miss another one where it was ladies only? Is this a bigger moment than I think it is?
Whatever. I’m pumped. There’s a Tiny Fey/Amy Poehler drinking game (good luck with that) and we’ll be live tweeting the hell out of that red carpet (I’ll try to get the live chat set up on here as well). Celebrities: if your stylist is drunk, we will know! And if you follow us and hate award show live tweets the way I hate sports live tweets or live tweets from conferences I’ve never heard of, we suggest you unfollow us for three hours on Sunday.
Ally: I am so excited for the Golden Globes. I absolutely never watch the actual ceremonies, but I just might this year if only for Amy and Tina.
I have a couple of favourites this week, but mostly I’m perturbed. And I’m mostly perturbed by this:
First off, she’s gorgeous and I’m 100 per cent jealous (especially after I had an unfortunate event trying to squeeze into my “maternity skinny jeans” earlier this week). That said, I think Bey is past the point where she has to wear cut-off football jerseys on a gentleman’s monthly. On some level, I understand that post-baby she probably wants to show off her hard work, and who am I to judge that (answer: a judgey blogger)? On another level, I just really hope she’s not trying to break into Rihanna’s fan base because she has a lot of catching up to do.
Beyonce also does THIS!
There was the big kerfuffle yesterday over Justin Timberlake’s news. Not interested (except if he does something with Jay Z. Then I’m slightly interested). Please, he may have successfully stolen the thunder of the Oscar nominees (not really, actually), but there was no way he could top the comeback of Destiny’s Child.
This was so unexpected for me. New plan to lose the baby weight over the summer; jam to this shit.
I love you Jimmy McNulty
El Jeffe and I are super into The Wire right now, all seasons are On Demand. We’ve watched an episode every night (two on Fridays and Saturdays! Shit we’re old!). I can’t believe it has taken me this long to discover the hot that is Jimmy McNulty…
…not to mention Avon, but I don’t have any more room for inappropriate pretend boyfriends on my pretend boyfriend list). If you haven’t seen this series yet, you should. The writing and acting is fantastic. Completely addicting. Also, I’m only on Season Two so please don’t spoil it for me.
I love a slow motion walk.
Deeply upset with H&M’s Maternity Clothes
About minus .2357 per cent of you care about my fight with maternity clothes…according to my calculations.
Still, I’m soldiering on with this story because I think people need to know the pain H&M has inflicted on me. My sister-in-law told me that H&M (saying their name as much as possible in case they Google themselves as much as John Mayer does his name) is THE place to get maternity clothes. She’s smart, so I believed her. I purchased an unfortunately large amount of stretchy materials only to be spit upon when actually putting the clothes on at home. For one, the sweater dress I purchased had a hole in the middle of it. Not a hole you could sew either (not that I sew)!
Second, I paired a cute blue wool maternity sweater with my new red skinny maternity jeans (El Jeffe keeps asking why I would punish myself by purchasing skinny jeans during pregnancy. Sometimes he can be right smart-like). I got to my client’s office only to have the blue wool ALL OVER my red pants.
I looked BUDGET, bitches.
I can’t even talk about it anymore. Too hurt. Let’s listen to a crappy song and virtually brush each others hair and tell secrets. You get no love, H&M.