Wednesday

On this stormy poopstain of a day, and in honor of the retirement of her majesty, Oprah, I would like to share with you, a story. This is a story of hope, courage, and ultimately failure.

While employed at a delicious, but not so authentic Italian restaurant, a new manager came along one fateful day. He was coming from a restaurant near Harpo Studios, Oprah's studio. It was here that he befriended Oprah staffers as they came in for lunch and because of this, was able to get several members of his new staff tickets to see this beloved woman.

Before we could say Hardees, Desmond, Jody, and I were waiting in line with some of the Midwest's finest. I just new we were going to get some pretty decent air time and then we would have to take it from there. If agents wanted to call, so be it. After an hour or so of waiting in the studio, we saw THE big head making her appearance while Desmond screamed like a little girl. Everything happened so fast when suddenly, Oprah was standing next to me taping the beginning of the show by talking to the people across the aisle from me. We had been told to sit down, so I kept a smile plastered on my face as I stared at Oprah's butt. I realized I should check the monitors to make sure I was portraying myself accurately and that's when I saw it. OPRAH'S BUTT WAS COVERING MY FACE AND ENTIRE BODY! Millions of people across the world were not going to be given the gift of my face! What a bunch of crap!

She didn't even give out any gifts.....except for lingering visions of her wedgie of course.

Blocked

It's happened. I have blogger's block. You know what this means, I'm stealing from other bloggers for the time being. Don't worry, I have her permission and in the meantime, I'm watching 'The Voice' for inspiration. I'm rooting for the black dude on Adam Levine's team. Okay, I just googled it and his name is Javier Colon. That's unfortunate. *Update: I just googled Javier again and he is TOTALLY NOT black! Sorry. He is Domenican and Puerto Rican. Domincan + Puerto Rican = dark skinned!

The blog I have chosen to steal from is one of my faves, Peppermint Bliss. I don't just steal from anyone, this girl is fuuuuuuuuuuuunnnnnnyyyyyyy. I totally thought I'd come back to Chicago for the summer, "run" into her in Lincoln Park (I have an idea of where she lives based on her pictures), and we'd be besties for life. NOT GONNA HAPPEN. She's just up and moving to Texas and I do NOT appreciate that. Who am I suppose to hang out with all summer, Derek? No way. Tess? Yeah right. She'll be a newlywed soon. That leaves me with the dog. I suppose if I can't have Peppermint, Diego is the next best. Here you go, hope you like.

"Lies that Chelsea Handler told me…

Let me start this off by saying I am ridiculous person.

I know it, my husband knows it, and I am sure that if any of you have been reading this for any period of time you have at the very least begun to suspect it.

I am sure sometimes it comes off as out of touch, but I prefer to look at my way of thinking as magical. Like when you are little and your parents tell you that you can do anything, like I took that a little far in my minds eye and sometimes really believe the delusions in my head are going to happen.

Like two years ago when I went to 4 Britney Spears shows on her circus tour dressed like this:

And this:

And never for one second doubted that one of her people would see me and think, “Britney has to see this!” and whisk me backstage. And I was genuinely downtrodden when that didn’t happen. Like I for real was surprised and disappointed. And I know that sounds really entitled. And I am sure this quirk I am trying to make sound endearing is actually an offshoot of some horrible brat only child flaw, but I also think that there is a possibility that this way of thinking could be really a good thing. Like say if someone had larger aspirations than meeting Britney Spears and approached achieving their goals with the same kind of optimism and earnest? I think that would be a really wonderful thing to behold. And at times when I put my mind to important things it does sort of feel like I am willing them into being, and that feels amazing.

Last night was one of those times.

Except not with something important.

Last night I went to go see Chelsea Handler with my good friend Read. When we got there we realized that somehow we had procured for ourselves tickets that were basically on the stage. Like there were the normal front row seats of the theatre, and then there were 4 rows of folding chairs set up with the closest row ending inches from the stage and that is where our seats were.

Me sitting in my seat with my feet on the stage.

I am looking VERY pregnant these days and the first thing Read said when we sat down is, “Chelsea is totally going to call you out”. And I blushed and laughed like I hadn’t already thought the same thing. And like I hadn’t tweeted Chelsea to give her a friendly heads up that we were going to be there. Like in case she reads her tweets before going on stage, she might want to know that.

So first Brad Wollack comes out and does his bit and was great, I really like when comedians interact with the audience and can carry an on-the-spot joke through and keep connecting it to different parts of their set. It’s smart. It’s good. Next Heather MacDonald came out and was probably the goofiest human I have ever stared directly up towards and was hilarious. Then Josh Wolf came out and talked about going #2 in his pants on his first date with his wife, so obviously that was a winner. And then it was time for Chelsea.

She comes out and greats Chicago and goes “You guys are all so cute, you’re a good looking city!” and starts scanning the audience and then looks directly at me and goes, “Oh my GOD. Are you pregnant? I hope so.” And I said yes, immediately feeling nervous about my obviously significant powers over the universe to wish my dreams into reality.

And she goes, “How pregnant??” My head starts spinning like how can I succinctly answer this question, and also indicate to her that we are equals and that I would be a good candidate for best friendship. “7 months”

And she goes, “Do you know who the father is?? Are you in a relationship with him??” And I like a total dbag was like “Yeah I think I have a hunch who he is” like ohhh the cleverness of me. I have a “Hunch”. What a TOOL. Ugh I am just the worst sometimes.

Anyway. My point is that basically Chelsea Handler opened her show in Chicago with me last night, just like I had willed it. So I am thinking my best friendship with Britney Spears is really only a matter of time now. Hopefully I won’t act like such a jackass when that happens."

Dibs.

There's somebody I would like to call dibs on before she becomes a monstrous hit in the United States and I can no longer claim her for myself. She's the most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes on and I love her with all my heart. Please meet Chery Cole.
WHAT.A.BABE. I LOVE HER. I LOVE HER. I LOVE HER. I SERIOUSLY LOVE HER.

Look at those dimples!
Just wait until you hear her speak!
I go to England just to watch her on tv. (Okay, AND to see Carlie and Jimmy.)(But not really.)
And now she's coming to America, HALLELUJAH!

Cheryl is a judge on the British 'X-Factor,' along with Simon Cowell, and now she's also a judge on the new American version. She's absolutely charming and she's Englands little love child. Her and Simon are so wonderful together and I am saddened that her time over here will be tainted by nonsense from another judge, Paula Abdul. Paula is a troll.

In a few months when you find yourself falling in love, please remember she is mine.

I LOVE CHERYL COLE! A LOT!

It's Good To Be Back

Boy oh boy, did I drop the ball this past week! I had parties, wedding showers, shopping, and dress altering to attend to, but I'm back, my little chicklets!

Now on to the important stuff: Good ideas! I barely even think these days, so coming up with a good idea is RARE! But a few months ago, it happened! A good idea popped into my head. I was desperately trying to figure out how to eliminate or at least reduce the amount of cellulite on my bod, while doing as little work as possible. This led me to google, and after a few hours of reading, VOILA, I had the answer. I'll make a homemade 'cellulite scrub!'

Supposedly this is a secret of the stars and it's to be done twice a day. Not only is the scrub itself suppose to work, the scrubbing increases circulation and ideally works out some of those lumps. (Don't say "ewww," you know what I'm talking about.) Okay, are you ready for it? Mix together coffee grinds, sugar, and olive oil. See, easy! The caffeine in the coffee is suppose to actually help the cellulite and everything else exfoliates and moisturizes.

Unfortunately, I let my creation dry out (and then we moved) before I saw actual results, but alas, it still turned out to be awesome. This was the most amazing body scrub I've ever used! My skin was SO soft and SO smooth. I've just made a new batch of this stuff and thought you all might want to try it!

And now only because the homemade stuff smells like coffee, I will most likely be ordering this in a few weeks-
COCONUT! I like to imagine heaven smells like this.

Dear Diary

I hope everyone had a wonderful weekend full of sunshine and love.

Mine sucked.

I went shopping. And saw myself in fantastic lighting. In a three way mirror. And now I will kill myself.

Some thoughts from my time at the mall:

• I hate people.
• I really hate girls.
• I hate myself.
• Where did this ball of flab on the side of my thigh come from?
  
• I am not good at color blocking.
• Turning your medium sized cotton underwear from Target into thongs so you don't have an underwear line is not comfortable.
• I hope everyone at this mall dies. Today.
• Why do I have backne at 28?
  
• Teenagers are SO stupid.
• Girls are SO stupid.
• I wish my rings weren't getting cleaned so I can wear those and people will know that, despite how pathetic I may look, I actually found a guy to marry me. (My husband hates me and finds me incredibly unamusing, but that's besides the point.)
• Wow, my legs are pale.
  
• Wow, my legs are hairy.
• Wow, my legs are dry.
  
• Wow, I have no calves.
• Wow, my face is greasy.
• This dinnerware set from Anthropologie is exactly what I've been looking for. (I'll share later!)

And then thankfully, dinner with Tess came along and washed the suck away!