gratitude-a-thon day 806: sag red carpet hits and misses

I thought all award shows were on Sunday nights, which is why when my sister sent an email red carpet fashion alert to her near and dear (this is the kind of family I’m from), I was psyched up, thinking about my sunday night pajama fest with Guiliana (the hosts of e!online), and some food that no body on the carpet would be able to wear, I mean eat. Anyway, last night my husband and I were just getting take-out and getting ready for an on-demand movie, but when I re-read Joan’s email to see what station the show was on (red carpet rule 1: be prepared), I realized it was  literally happening while I was reading! Last night–a Saturday night. So, thankfully, I was not out, and could cozy up to the tv, or we wouldn’t be here right now (talk about a tragedy).

So, welcome to the carpet, kids. Let’s see what we have.

The worst, because it’s so much more fun than the best, and I’m not even going to apologize for that. I know you feel the same way too, so you’re welcome

Lori Petty. “Ten Hut, Welcome to the Pepto Bismol Army.”


I don’t even know. So, it’s pink. Like bad pink, like seriously she took a bottle of Pepto Bismol to an Army recruiting office and said, “I’ll join up if you can make me this uniform in this color and I can first wear it to the SAG awards.” Possible, right? I mean, what else could it be? Also, never wear a midriff-baring outfit, unless your midriff is worth baring.

2 Gaby Hoffman. She’s adorable, but her dress, not so much.


I really like Gaby, because she’s quirky and gives brave performances, always playing characters that are off-center, and interesting. BUT THIS ISN’T A POPULARITY CONTEST, PEOPLE. So, first of all, the fit is off. I don’t think this girl has a stomach, but this dress gives her one, so check the “not flattering” box on your form. Her shoes are the color of a little dot at the top of the dress, which is floating out in space. What is that dot? Why is it there? To match her shoes? Her earrings don’t look like quality items. I saw her demonstrate how you could actually write on the fabric of the dress. I would have written, “This dress is ugly.”

Nicole Kidman. Are you kidman-ding?


She’s beautiful. I mean, there’s that, so like, she can put on the polartec blanket I was swathed in last night, and still be gorg, but that dress, that multi-layered circus of stereo typical girly colors, with the clown ruffle, was just not pretty. It’s simple, this was ugly. And that’s all.

Sola Bamis. “This flight is delayed due to the SAG awards.”


This color is heaven on this girl, but “the wings” belong on a very bold angel. That bow in the back of her neck is just wrong. I’m sure it was meant to give a simple dress some pow, but it just looked ow.

Julianne Moore. Fit is everything (this dress is not).


Ugh. I love Julianne, and she is generally so good on the carpet, so perfect, so right. But look at the boob area of this dress. It’s too much fabric, or too low, or something. It makes her look like she’s slouching. I love the color on her, but the fit is just off, off, off. And it would have been smart if she’d actually taken it off and put on something else before she arrived.

Christina Hendricks. The boobs have it.


This picture does not look as bad as this dress looked on tv. Christina has big boobs. Very big. Bigger than that. And I guess I don’t know what you do with boobs like that, when you’re trying to wear clothes. But I don’t think it’s this. I get that they were aiming to balance the top with the bottom by adding all that train fabric, and flappy stuff on her shoulder. I get that people are making an effort here to make this ravishing girl look as ravishing as she is, but it’s a fail. She just looks big, boxy, heavy, and blah. Her boobs always take center stage. They enter the room before her and they stay even after the party’s over.

January Jones did not apparently have time for a fitting.


Nice hair. Nice color. But the fit is anything but fitting. Wow, I just can’t even, so I won’t.


The best is so much less fun, but we need to give credit where credit is due.


Viola Davis. How to get away with looking amazing


Killer look. Viola ruled last night. She really done good. Total package. Hair, makeup, jewelry, dress. Giving it a 10, maybe even more.

Eva Longoria. Where oh where is her underwear?

Slam dunk, wow, pow, way to rock the carpet. I did think she had over-tanned, and I would have liked some different hair, like maybe a low pony, but i thought this dress was amazing on her. Seriously, though, where is her vajayjay?

Tina Fey. Funny how she has become a fashion girl.


Loving this dress. And loving that Tina’s style has really evolved. She hits it outta the park a lot at these shows. This is simple, and fits beautifully. I love the top and the way it indents. She is (30) rocking it.

Rachel McAdams in the spotlight.


I went back and forth on this dress, but ultimately, I think it’s just lovely. This shot of her with her hair just right convinced me that this must have been sublime in person. When I was in the “no” camp it was becasue I felt the neckline was a little too high. But I’m going thumbs up for this look.

Kristen Wiig. Laugh as you might, this girl knows fashion.


I love this super modern, totally comfy-looking jumpsuit. Great shoes, right on simple hair, bag and jewelry. Whoever Kristin’s stylist is, I’m giving them an A, because she is always killing the carpet.

Sophia Vergara is always the same–really good.


You always know what you’re going to get with Sophia. It’s likely going to be strapless, and body concious. But it works for her, and so aside from being a little predictable and boring, it’s always really good. This was better than usual in the fit area, as in it fit her like a glove, which it doesn’t always. Vavanoroomforimprovement.

Demi Moore wore a vintage gown and a vintage body, too.


Say what you will about Demi. But she looks like she did 20 years ago. Seriously, this 53 year old woman could easily pass for decades younger. Look at her body. It’s INSANE. Her face is still just LOVELY. and the dress is so good. She’s always known how to look perfect, and even though she hasn’t been in the public eye in a long time, she still knows how to wow. I’m giving her a 20. Sorry, it just has to be done.

gratitude-a-thon day 805: just another wednesday: um, not really


So yesterday, my little town became like an episode of CSI, not that I would know, because I can proudly say that is one show I have never watched (not that I’m above it, I’m known to watch those housewives from Beverly Hills every so often), but man was it a weird and CNN-ish day around here.

I was skype-training with my old trainer who up and moved to California, even though she knew I would physically fall to shit without her (the nerve), and I told her during the session that I wondered if something was going on, because I heard a fleet of helicopters. No kidding, either, you know how you hear one and you’re all like, huh is there an accident, or a heart is landing at one the hospitals for a transplant, well, this wasn’t like that, it sounded like Apocolypse Now. Anyway, when we finished, I went over to the computer to say goodbye and turn skype off, when I saw in the corner of my screen, an email about a shooting and stabbing in the village, so I opened it, and read it to Colleen, and we were both all like, “WHA?”

Then I looked at my phone to see a text message from my daughter telling me the news. I appreciated this, because that meant it wasn’t her  that was was stabbed or shot. Then I looked at my email, where there were like six emails from the neighborhood association about the “incident,”and that three schools, including our old elementary school were in lockdown.  Then I hit social media, and went on Twitter to see what the police had to say, onto Facebook, where there were several different versions of the story, and then surfed around all the local news news stations to see if I could get the scoop. The number of people involved kept changing. The shooting and stabbing figures kept shifting. I couldn’t find two stories that matched. But the basic story was that at least three people were shot and or stabbed at St. Paul Street, and on Harvard Street, in front of the Brookline Spa (a sandwich shop and police hang out), which also happens to be across from two elementary schools.

And then I had to take Riley to the groomers, which meant I couldn’t turn the tv on and see live pictures of what was happening a 1/2 mile from me. So, Riley and I got into the car. He loves a car ride, especially if he doesn’t know we’re actually going to the groomers (and I mean, when you need a haircut, you need a haircut, shooting in town or no shooting in town). We had to drive right by one of the crime scenes. Riley was not at all impressed, but I was because there were tons of people milling around and from the last bit of information I could find, the perps (I have watched a police show or two in my day) had not been caught yet. There was something odd about the way this was being reported. Nobody seemed alarmed enough.

By last night, what I could piece together from this one piece of evidence, “the victims were known to police here and in other communities,” was that maybe this was like a drug thing gone wrong, and that’s why the police weren’t all like telling us to shelter in place. Here is the latest.

Anyway, I”m grateful that more people weren’t hurt, and that none of the high school students on their way to their 1 o’clock exams, that were literally all over the village at the time,  were involved. Oh, also my close friend was interviewed on tv, looking like a very empathic listener, which is good, on account of she’s a therrapist. Also, Riley’s haircut is great.


gratitude-a-thon day 804: “crazy rug lady in aisle four”


I got a new rug! My family thinks I’m a little bit rug crazy. I am not.  “Mom got another rug,” one of my kids will say.” Then my husband and my kids will all shoot each other the look. The look that says, “Mom is a litle rug crazy.”

They used to think I was “side table crazy,” but now that we don’t actually have enough side tables for some rooms in our house, they don’t call me that anymore. I did stop buying them when they started to tease me, but gosh, I’m just helpless in the face of a delicate detail on a sweet little table, or a perfect patina, scratched and worn.

Anyway, rugs are wildly expensive. Did you know this? I mean you can spend a year of college tuition on a rug, easily (head on over to my favorite rug purveyor ABC Capret and tell me I’m wrong), not that I’m anywhere near that neighborhood of crazy rug lady spending. If you had to categorize me, you’d put me in the “sale rug nutbags.”

That’s the thing. If you’re looking for rugs that aren’t 10 katrillion dollars,  you have to buy them on sale. This might not be when you’re looking for a rug, but if you’re a savvy shopper, you know that you have to have your eye open for a rug sale at all times (even when you’re sleeping). So, this may be why some people (MY FAMILY) might have gotten the idea that I might be slightly unbalanced about rugs.  because I buy ’em when I see ’em. And some people (MY FAMILY) just don’t recognize the financial intelligence of this.

So, my new rug? I got it at Anthropologie. It was originally like $1,200, but I got it for the sale price of $699.00, on a day when they were taking 40% off, so I paid $524 for it. Actually $524.96, if you want to get technical. This is a great price. And what’s even better, is this is a great rug. It’s gorgeous. It’s thick wool, and a beautiful pattern.


And that’s what I’m grateful for today. I am really grateful for this rug. Yes, the rug makes me feel a big swimming pool of gratitude. Which, you know, shows that it is the little things, in this case an 8 x 10 thing, but still.  And just to clarify, not every rug gets this much gratitude from me (you know, in case you too, were beginning to think my family was right about me, which I assure you they are not).  I’ve ordered rugs online before and sometimes it does not end well. It isn’t the quality you thought, it isn’t the color it looked, it smells funny. But not this rug. This rug is just perfect. Ah, rug-atitude!


gratitude-a-thon day 803: when everybody says happy birthday


You can say all the negative things you want about Facebook. You can drone on how it’s just for old people now (guilty), how it’s a place for bullies, how it makes people depressed about how not fabulous their life is in comparison to everybody else’s, as my cousin Wyatt so aptly put it, “highlights reel,” but there’s nothing like having a Facebook birthday.

I know some of the messages just say the obvious, “Happy birthday,” and that Facebook actually reminds you that it’s someone’s birthday like six times a day, (I wish they could remind me of everything), but it’s still nice, it’s still fun to have droves of people wishing you a happy.

The best messages are the ones that extol your beauty, or tell you that you look much younger than you really are. These messages are foolish, and not at all true, but on your birthday, who cares, if they make you feel good?

The picture posts are good, too. My daughter posted a nice photo of me when I was much younger. That was kind of fun to see how much cuter I was back then (although it did prompt a thorough search of quickie plastic surgery remedies for the aged). There were beach pics, and balloons, and illustrations, too. All awesome.

Anyway, viva la book of the face’s birthday policy. It’s a good one.

gratitude-a-thon day 802: i’ll be there even when i don’t want to be


When you have a child you’re agreeing to a whole bunch of stuff you didn’t really think was in the contract. There is teeny tiny print, and nobody tells you to read it carefully, NOOOOOOOO, you just decide you want to have a cute, pinchable, all out adorable little human, and you put your reading glasses, and all common sense on a high, baby-proofed shelf. And then you go in for the emotional deep dive of your life.

I knew there would be poop. How many diapers have I changed? Once Jake was so sick, he pooped without his pants on, while he was standing up, and I caught it in mid-air (yup, that happened), once Ally pooped all the way up her back (her ENTIRE back) while she was in a stroller at the Aquarium while her cousins were visiting from Virginia. Jake cried for like six hours every time he got vaccinations, every time. Ally cried for the first six months of her life. Leaving Jake at his first day of pre-school was like having an arm amputated. Seeing Ally sing Louie Armstrong’s Wonderful World made me sob inside and out. For like three days. There are 1,230,483,476,987,098,4478 more moments like this.

But nothing, not anything, not one thing that exists, is as awful or can compare to the misery of seeing your kid feel pain. Whether it’s physical pain, or emotional pain, all of it makes me want to hide in a cave and cry about everything bad that’s ever happened to me. I can’t stand it. I want some of that Michael Jackson sleeping drug–Propofol. I want to go into the witness protection program and assume another life in a small town in Iowa. I DON’T WANT TO SEE IT, OR FEEL IT.

But of course, none of the above is possible, nor would I ever want to leave my child in pain, but I thought I should just be honest and tell you that the whole thing makes me want to run for the hills, where Bin Laden so successfully hid for so long.

But I don’t.

And I never would. Because I love my kids with a ferocity that is bottom of the ocean deep, and solar system wide and bigger than everything that exists. I will always just be by their sides, physically, or mentally until they bury me in a coffin in the highest heeled, most beautiful shoes ever made. I will feel their pain, their confusion, their life lessons alongside them, sometimes being able to help with words, or just a hug, and sometimes not being able to help at all. But I will be with them. They will not be alone, not ever, not alone with the crazy, nuts, insanity of life, because whether I’m on the phone, on the other side of a text, skype session, email, Facebook message, or other social media forms of communication, I WILL ALWAYS BE THERE. That’s my promise. And isn’t that all we can do for another human being, is to promise to be there for the unpredictablity, beauty and shit farm, that is life? Not something I knew before I worked three years to get pregnant, but there it is. I will be there for the pain, kids (and of course, all the good stuff) ALWAYS.

gratitude-a-thon day 801: shut up winter


Honest to God, if I could abolish winter, send it packing, I would. I’d take the whole season and put it into an oversized suitcase and send it to the North fucking Pole where it belongs. I wouldn’t even buy a good suitcase, just one of those crappy ones for sale in the cheapie Manhattan shops that sell papers,  candy bars, I Love NY t-shirts, and crappy suitcases.

Perhaps I’ve mentioned how much I despise the cold, the snow, the general New England-ness betwteen November through June. I will be honest, because that’s how I roll, it has been generally better than usual for the past months, a tolerable bit of snow, decent temperatures, but the last few days have been that frigid stuff, that whip smart wind, that gloomy gray daytime forecast of get-under-the-covers.

When you have a dog, you gotta get yourself together, cold or not, and take that guy outside for some fresh air, good smelling and sniffing, and of course, multiple bathroom breaks. You cannot afford to stay indoors in layers of clothes and sip tea while you work, you gotta get up and outta there.

I have been piling on clothes, and intentionally not wearing my sunglasses, in an effort to get any and all sunlight into my eyeballs, while I escort Riley on his walks, during this cold snap. I have been trying with all my vim and vigor to breathe in the cold air and be in the moment, instead of fantasizing it away, or wishing I were somehwere else. I think this is rather adult and zen-ish, and I’m rather proud.

Fuck it though, it hasn’t worked, and I’m practically ready to teach my dog to use the toilet. #ifuckinghatewinter.


gratitude-a-thon day 800: dumb & dumber: palin & trump


569f05ee2a00004d00030dacSarah Palin has endorsed Donald Trump. Has there ever been a more perfect couple?

I always think about poor John McCain, who, by some bit of political trickstering, got stuck with Palin as his running mate. While I don’t support everything McCain stands for, I do think he’s a decent man, and an intelligent one. Can you imagine how much bile he must have had to swallow, while she went galavanting around the country, giving speeches that bastardized grammar in such a horrible way it was difficult to tell if she was even speaking english? Nevermind some of the loose cannon crap that came out of her mouth.

Anyway, here’s the thing. Sarah Palin paints herself as so holier than thou, but when you do this, you’d better have the goods, right? I’d just like to point out that her daughter Bristol, once “the ambassador for abstinence” now has had two children out of wedlock. (Immaculate conception, perhaps?) And yesterday, her son Track was arrested for domestic violence and possession of a weapon, all while intoxicated.  I sure wish my kids were like hers. Can you say “role model?”

Anyway, Palin and Trump are a charming pair. Just charming. Check out her speech here, I don’t know where this woman learned to speak english, but I’d say she must have skipped class an awful lot.

gratitude-a-thon day 790: The Big Short or The Big Lie


Wall Street could be a companion piece to The Big Short.


I don’t know which I needed more after seeing the movie The Big Short — a box of tissues, or a long, wash-every-inch-of-me-with-disinfectant-soap shower, or a double shot of Grey Goose. It was, on the one hand, hysterical, because of the way they presented the story, but on the other slimy hand, it was a movie that forces you to come face to face with the worst of humanity. If you remember the cataclysmic fall of the market in 2007, you know the narrative. I will be perfectly transparent here (unlike Wall Street at the time),  and tell you that understanding the housing bubble and the way the whole thing went down is hard, and I had to go over it before I saw the movie, during the movie, and after the movie, to understand it even a little (if you read this blog, you know I am proudly math illiterate).

Bottom line is that there were thousands of people screwing thousands of other people for the almighty dollar. How you could sleep if you’re making beaucoup bucks by essentially stealing from the innocent, is beyond my fertile imagination, but it happened. And it happened in a really big way.

The movie is brilliant in its telling. This could be a deadly boring story, although it has bad guys and good guys, and all the essentials of a great tale. But the way this film rolls is modern and quite brilliant. I mean, if you can get me to sit on the edge of my seat for what is essentially a story about numbers, it’s gotta be something pretty special.

Of course, it’s really not just about numbers. It’s about greed, lying, and green American cash dollars. It’s about the guy with the biggest toys winning, the rest of the world be damned. It’s about crooks, and hard-working people who believed in a system that was a total  and complete lie.

It’s hard to even know how to feel after this film, because it’s so distressing, uncovering a period in recent history that can be described as nothing short of disgusting. It uncovers something you can’t unsee again, and in that revelation, you have to examine what we’ve become, and how money has transformed itself from a form of trade for goods needed to an almighty God. It’s a sad movie that made me laugh, and a true story that made me think, mostly about how we became a country of people who value the green pieces of paper with presidents on them, more than one another.