Since I am the only creature on all of the earth to be working -- uhm, except for you poor things in retail/restaurant gigs, to whom I can only wish godspeed and a few fingers of whiskey to get you through the endless day -- I am catching up on my NYT reading. This article on what's selling for the holidays (also linked in a much more timely fashion at Gawker, I see) is at turns thrilling and profoundly disturbing. The thrill comes from the myriad pink things apparently tearing up the retail stores (ooh, Burberry pink trench!) and the price wars on cashmere, both very good news in my mind. However, then you have the disturbing news that Coach has launched a children's line, which is so beyond horrifying that I have a bit of a headache just pondering it. I feel neutral about the Victoria's Secret unpadded push-up bra issue, also mentioned. I would like to try one on just to see if it does indeed make my tits look exactly like those of Tyra Banks, but there are none to be found in my non-metro.
Good afternoon one and all. I am just dropping in before I settle down into a mad night of knitting, teevee watching and girding my will for the horror that will be the Thanksgiving meal with the in-laws. But first I want to wish you all a happy Turkey Day. Thanksgiving is usually one of my favorite holidays, and though this one will likely suck, at least I have some stuff to be grateful for, so I should probably just quit my bitching.
I hope you all have a nice time with your friends and family and [insert mooshy stuff here]. Kiss!
This one (kind of) local radio station. Oh, WDST, how I adore you. I can only get it in my car when I am driving back and forth to work, but my goodness, it is excellent.
BCBG shoes. Inexpensive quasi-bondage, semi-designer shoes that I am wearing right this moment, I adore you.
Robert Byrd. (Obviously I am referring to the totally boss classical orator and Bush nemesis Robert Byrd of today, not the KKK/Dixiecrat-type model of his early career.) I hope he manages to block this crazy fucking spending bill, there is too much scary shit in there (i.e., gimmies for the NRA and big media, boo-urns!).
Sassy editorials. I especially like this one on what's really undermining the sanctity of marriage! (This one, calling for better [smaller] food portion sizes and more honest packaging, could be sassier, but I like it anyway.)
2) Thanks, nice people who nominated me for a Diarist Award! That is so sweet! I will try and figure out, at some point, how to put the pretty Finalist graphic on here, woo.
3) Did I mention that I have to go to my hyper-evil in-laws for Turkey Day? Yeah. Kill me now. I am, how you say, filled with dread. Between the inedible food, the stultifying company and the very idea of being in the state of Connecticut (why it is a state unto itself and not, like, just hacked up into parts of NY and MA, I cannot figure out for the life of me), my holiday promises to be gruesome. Thank God for football. Since I am from Pennsylvania, it is just expected that I will plant myself in front of the teevee and scream at the big men wearing tight pants. (Obviously the in-laws, because they are evil and from New England [no one understands football up here, it is so sad], do not understand the allure of football.) Oh, and I have to work the day after also, and my officeplex is next to a B-level mall (though it has a very A-level Macy's, to be fair) so going in on Friday will be the stuff of bad sitcoms, complete with slapstick dodging of minivans full of Procac-numbed stay-at-home moms. Excellent, I expect that I will have to use my pepper-spray at least once.
4) Of all the men I think we ladies should avoid, I think that near the top of the list is "The Guy Who Wants to Make Out to Tori Amos Music." I have been meaning to say that for a while, but I only just remembered it on my commute home yesterday.
I have more, but time is short. More later! I especially want to address the total perfection of Bad Company, to which I was listening yesterday and thinking yes, this is the best cock rock is going to get, baby.
Sorry I have been a bit quiet but I have a good excuse. Work is nuts! Well, that and also I am spending a lot of time trying to churn out holiday knitting and obsessing over Craftster projects. (Oooh, that recovered 1950's-looking chair is calling my name!)
But, until I get some time later today, might I direct you to the smashing recap of "The O.C." Thanksgiving spectacular? If for no other reason than to contemplate this:
And Adam Brody, Ben McKenzie, and Peter Gallagher, by the way, would constitute a paralyzing game of "Marry, Screw, or Kill."
God, truer words were never spoken. I cannot even begin to tackle that one, seriously!
Apparently, all it takes to be named head of a failing magazine brand is a jaunty new hairdo! (Check the irony-free before-and-after photos -- love!) Specifically, according to the new headmistress at Seventeen, Atoosa Rubenstein, a sleek, straightened head of hair will make you the apple of Hearst Corp's eye! The real news here? I can't believe that Hearst was allowing bad hair! Such frizziness would never have been tolerated at Conde Nast!
While I completely appreciate this damning summary of why Dr. Phil sucks, I don't get why no one is pointing out that America is taking advice on weight loss from a dude who is totally fat! (And, uhm, not a nutritionist either. Grr!)
You know, I haven't been a watcher of that "Survivor" show since a girl next to whom I danced in high school musicals was on it a few years ago. But this year we have been watching it mostly due to the rawkingness of that Rupert guy. Man. Anyway, I was alarmed to hear that he has gone missing!
Glamorous life update: Yesterday we ended up having an all-musical filmfest at the house, in anticipation of the totally fucking rad production of "Oklahoma" starring Hugh Jackman (!!!) that they showed on PBS last night. We started with True Stories, which I hadn't watched in ages and was awed by how great it is anew; then we watched the excellent DVD transfer of A Hard Day's Night. (We had gone to see the restored release in the movie theater a few years ago, but this is almost as good.)