Christmas Sparkles

Merry, merry to all of my sparklers! I hope you are all feeling as lucky and sparkly as I am. With five days of fun (including a four day, insane bender of a weekend) and two days of Christmas, family overload, I'm feeling as sparkly and special as this super twinkly, but almost dead tree.

Merry Christmas, ho, ho, hoes.
SD

Ho, ho, ho Bitches!!

AT LAST.  Finally I am feeling sufficiently sparkly enough to get in the holiday spirit.  I'm not going to lie, for the past two weeks, starting with my run in with Mr. CAPSY, your girl has been feeling a little less twinkly than what is typical for a holiday sparkler.  After hours upon hours of meetings, and work, and more meetings and more revisions requested by CAPSY, we finally birthed out the f-ing project and presentation last night.    And damned if CAPSY didn't throw a few curveballs of his own into the presentation, going off on tangents and offering the class "one of a kind Korean stamp sets" at the end of the presentation.  I'm not even fucking with you about that last thing.  He seriously whipped out stamp sets from his backpack and started passing them out.  The professor was like "Sit DOWN, Chairman Mao."  It was such a show.  In the end I just had to take the dumb boy by the balls (not literally, you dirty thinking sluts) and do most of it myself because I just needed to be done with it and was tired of dicking around over email.  Yes, it was annoying and made for an un-sparkly two weeks (for real-I was very "Angela Chase after Jordan Catalano breaks her heart the second time"), but I feel pretty good about it and it was a little ego boost to know I could do so much by myself.  And a good reminder of a very important truth:

It's funny because it's true.  Bitches get it done, right?  And I did and now it's done and I can finally feel sparkly about the impending holidays in a proper fashion.  Like I woke up this morning and it was like my inner disco ball turned back on and was like "let's get this party started, guurrrl" to which I was all "WORD."

Obviously, I would never do a weird Riverdance on a rooftop, even IF John Travolta and ONJ asked me too (that's a lie, I TOTALLY WOULD).  But I do feel like I have more pep in my step.  (BTW-have you guys SEEN the amazing, not at all a joke, music video for Danny and Sandy Part 2, An Awkward, Huggy Christmas?  If not, please watch it RIGHT THIS MINUTE.  I'll wait.  It is worth it and again, please remember that this is not a Saturday Night Live skit.  THIS IS REAL.)

Seriously.  How GOOD is that video?  How can you not laugh your ass off watching that gem?  You can't!

Anyway, clearly I won't be doing anything that remotely resembles THAT hot mess, but I do plan to spend the next two weeks sparkling and twinkling my ass off in anticipation of the holidays.  Only my version will look more like this:

At least in my head it will.  Because in my head, I am ALWAYS, ALWAYS fierce like Beyonce. Always.

Happy Friday, Sparklers!  Go get some naughty in while there's still time!

Issues.
SD

Boys Don't Cry (except when they sometimes do)

I made a boy cry this week.  Not full on, sobbing, ugly cry.  It was just a little wet eyes, quivery lip action, but it was definitely a cry.  I wish I didn't feel such pleasure in admitting that, but trust me, when I tell you why and how, you will also share in my happiness.

As you know, I am in grad school.  I'm almost finished my second class, which up until this week, I enjoyed a lot.  The professor is engaging, and the homework, while a pain in my ass, was somewhat satisfying because I really had to think and work hard to do well (which I've done).  The one dark spot in my class happiness is my group project.  Four people, shoved together to work on a paper and presentation.  Under normal circumstances, it's a lot of compromise and back and forth, because really, how can four people possibly write a 15 page paper together?  (Hint: THEY CAN'T)  Anyway, in my group, there is one guy.  We've all experienced someone like this douche bag in our lives.  He corrects the professor in class, is overly intense about the tiniest things (like the fact he got one point more than I did on the mid-term), and tends to type and talk IN ALL CAPS.  ALWAYS.  BECAUSE HE IS THAT SERIOUS.

Anyway, this guy, we will call him Capsy Asshat for simplicities sake.  So Capsy sent me his section of the paper to add to the others because I was compiling the various sections and trying to make it sound like one paper instead of four.  Well, when Capsy sent me his section, he sent it with a note saying that he "appreciated a second set of eyes on the paper, but he is confident it's good just as it is".  Ok, Capsy.  So I start reading it, and within the first page, found two instances where he repeated himself, using the exact same phrasing: "intimacy of personal life".  That's pretty specific to use two times within two paragraphs.  Anyway, I email Capsy with his section highlighted and with comments of the other seven instances where there was repetition.   I asked him to send me revisions since he clearly stated not to touch his shit.  What happened after that can only be described as a roller coaster into Crazytown.  Capsy proceeded to accuse me in a series of 8 separate emails of "posturing for political purposes", telling me that he wrote the whole paper and I was a self-admitted slacker who used my daughter as an excuse for laziness, and.....  (and this is the nuclear bomb) a racist.  (Capsy is Chinese).

Well, my friends, I have been called a lot of not so nice things in my lifetime.  A bitch?  Absolutely, on a regular basis.  Cold and unfeeling?  Of course.  Shallow?  Yes, I admit it.  But a racist?  I. DON'T THINK. SO.  I had started seeing red when Capsy accused me of being a slacker.  But after accusing me of racism?

You could say I got a little more heated after that.  Especially when I found out the next morning he said many of the same things to our professor, including me being a slack ass racist.  In fact, you could say that I turned into Lady Hulk Hogan, such was my rage.  Luckily my professor was on to Capsy and talked me off a ledge.  But not before we had a group meeting where Capsy attempted to apologize, saying he just gets "emotional" and felt the full force of my inner Queen Bitch.  I won't go into specific details of what I said, because I'm a lady (ha!) but also because it was a long-ass tirade.  Inside I was all like:

Outside, however, I was totally cool like the coolest girl ever, Stephanie Zinnone. From Grease 2, obviously.

No raised voices, no physical violence.  I was so in the Queen Bee Bitch zone that remembering exact details are a little fuzzy.  I know the other girl in my group made a squeaky sound at one point, and when it was over, there was Capsy, teary-eyed and lip quivering like a little bitch.  (not to be confused with Queen Bee Bitch).

And I went home, feeling like I wanted to high five the world.  I don't always bring out the bitch, but when I do, I prefer to cause tears.  Does that make me a bad person?  Probably.  Whatever.  I'm still riding the high from putting Capsy in his place and could go another round if needed.  Come at me!!    (just kidding, I love all my sparkly peeps and don't want to come at you.)

But, seriously, Capsy.  Cross me again?  Imma CUUUT you.  Rude.

Straight Thug,
SD

WHOOOO Are You?

So Thanksgiving got in the way of the blogger stride I'd hit in October and early November.  But I don't want to pass over giving thanks for all of the sparkly goodness in my life.  I feel like a truly lucky girl for an amazing family, a mister who lets me be outrageous and sparkly as often as I want, friends that truly get me and keep me moving forward when sometimes I just want to take a big ol' nap from real life, and for the biggest star-my Mini SD.  She just keeps getting more awesome as the months pass by.  So for all of that and more, I am thankful this year.

Now.  On to the meaty goodness of this post.  I have a good friend, Ginger Spice, and within the past year, we've been hanging out a lot more.  We've known each other for years, but have become way closer as this year has progressed.  Like before we were Kelly and Brenda in Season 1 and now we're more like Kelly and Brenda in Season 3-before that ho Kelly got with Dylan when Brenda was in Paris, obvi.  And if you don't know what I am talking about, please just stop reading this blog now because how can you think I'm remotely entertaining and NOT know 90210?

Anyway. So back to me and Ginger Spice. Sometimes we hang solo and sometimes with the Misters because they mesh well, like peanut butter and chocolate.  The past few times we've all hung out, particularly when we are having loads and loads of cocktails, Ginger always seems to find out a new tidbit of information about me, that I thought was common knowledge.  For example, she didn't know about my wee little blog venture, and when our other pal, Smash told her about it, Ginger was like "WHO ARE YOU?!"  I laughed and was like, "seriously, you know almost EVERYTHING else there is to know about me.  Promise."

Then we all had a grown up playdate to see the new James Bond movie, Skyfall (SO. GOOD.) and over dinner afterwards, I was mentioning how watching the movie made me a little itchy to play the Bond video game that I was obsessed with way back in the day.  And the other game, Hitman 2, Silent Assassin that I played relentlessly for most of 2006.  Like googled strategy guides for tough levels and would stay up late on a school night to play.  I was a total gamer nerd.  (don't even judge.  that shit was FUN!).  And again, Ginger was all "Seriously.  WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!"  To which I was like, "just don't get me started talking about Halo 2.  Lawd, was that fun too."  I secretly think that Mr. Ginger Spice thought it was cool, but Ginger was mortified on my behalf.  Unnecessarily, because I am confident enough in my sparkly-ness to know that being a gamer doesn't really void my ticket to the disco ball.  My Mister also threw shade, but I KNOW he thinks this quirk is badass.  Seriously, I might be hooking up the Xbox this weekend, because just thinking about how much fun I used to have killing people on secret missions in Romania makes me feel like this:














These are just two of many examples of how my friend Ginger was baffled by my "secrets" that I didn't really think were secrets.  And it just goes to show that just because you feel like you've been super close buddies with someone forever, doesn't mean that they actually know all of your history.  It would be great if we could just hip bump or fist pump or something (get your head out of the gutter, if you're reading this, Mr. Ginger Spice) when you realize you've become close enough with someone to share these types of things.  Like your entire history, and emotional baggage and weirdnesses would be transferred to your new friends' brain and they could be like "Oh!  So that's why you hate Celine Dion with a strange passion and whiskey makes you cry!?  Got it!"

Although it IS great fun to keep surprising Ginger and seeing the shock on her face when I tell her something I think is totally reasonable and she shrieks '"WHO ARE YOU!?"  Except now I'm tempted to casually drop random "secrets" every time we hang out now.  Watch out, Ginge.  That's all I'm saying, cause your girl is crafty!!

Thank Fucking God it's Friday.  Am I right?
SD

Let's Pretend I Posted This Last Week, Shall We?

THANK GOD Obama won again.  I haven't posted since the election, but holy shit, was I nervous!  I had to go to my polling place three different times and finally had to be okay with the fact that I was going to have to wait in a line longer than 20 minutes.  But I did and it made me worry about why so many peeps were out rocking the vote.  It made me worry that they were rocking the vote on the side of EVIL.  Which made me worry so that I had to keep pouring wine and chocolate down my throat until the results came in.  I stayed up LATE too, waiting for the returns.  When my buddy Wolf Blitzer finally called Ohio for my boy, I was all:

And then I waited up to hear Romney's concession speech.  And waited to hear if Question 6 passed, giving all of my rainbow friends the right to marry each other and not enter into crazy, loveless, sexless marriages like some people we know...  (Hey, John Travolta....)

So I waited and waited, and fucking waited some more.  Even when Fox News called it for Obama, still the Romney camp "wasn't ready to concede".  Really?  Even Sarah Palin had the sads because she saw the writing on the wall.  (well, that and her hair and makeup looked like she was an extra in the prom scene from "Pretty In Pink")

And then while I was waiting some more, I saw more hilarious things that added to my joy.  First, drunk Diane Sawyer?!  Seriously-that shit made me smile like when Britney had her own reality show.  PLEASE tell me you saw this, or at least one of the many spoofs that came afterwards:

Seriously, how hilarious is it when she's like "Can we get the mushic?  We can now call anotherrr state for President Barack!"  Have another, Diane.  I'm not judging.  Just maybe wait until AFTER the biggest news night of the year to start tippin it, okay gurl?

And then what about Karl Rove having a temper tantrum when Fox News called Ohio for Obama?!  When he made that poor, dumb news woman walk back to the "war" room to check their methods for calling it?  And she actually did it?  SO. FUCKING. GOOD.  I honestly felt like I was watching a skit from SNL.  

So even though at 1:00 A.M. when the Mister had already peaced out for the night, and I was all by my lonesome with my third glass of vino and my stinky dog, inside I was having a hell of a party with all of the fun and shenanigans from election night:

Inner Disco Balls,

SD

About That Election Thingy Tomorrow....

I don't know about you guys, but I am SO sick of the crazy amount of Facebook posts from friends about why their candidate is better than another.  Don't get me wrong-I am pretty rabid in my support for my guy, but that's partially because the other guy wants to set equality and women's rights back about 40 years.  So clearly, I'm right and should be rewarded for taking the high road and not posting about my Obama love on FB or tweeting about it ONCE while half of my friends have been doing it every f-ing day.  And here's my reward:

Seriously?!  Look at these assholes.  How could anyone want to have Ol' Mittens and Lady Crazy Eyes representing us for four years???!!  That is just INSANE.  Can't you just hear Mitt making the Fonzie sound while making this face?  Like "Eyyyyyyyy.  Pinkie Tuscadero, hop on the back of my bike and we'll do wheelies through the parking lot at Al's.".

Ew.

My guy Barack is not perfect, but as I've said before, he represents what's important to me WAY more than this vag-hating, homophobic, douchebag.  I'm hopeful that if you read this blog, you probably agree, and therefore, I strongly encourage you to VOTE!!!  If you don't agree, I strongly encourage you to STAY THE HELL HOME.  :)

Seriously-if Mittens wins, my alcohol issues might be taken to the next level.

Please don't make my alcohol issues go to the next level.  It would be a scary, scary sight.

Rawk the Vote.

SD

Is that you, Prince??

Hooray Friday!  I can't even put into words how psyched I am to see this weekend begin.  And I only had a three day work week thanks to Sandy!  But it has been a crazy week with the weather, etc.  I'm so grateful that the only hardship I experienced was our DirectTV going down for a few hours.

So I noticed something interesting last week and forgot about it while pouring wine in my gullet during all of the Sandy/Halloween madness..  And that is that there is a stat tracker thingy set up for my wee little blog that I hardly ever look at, ever.  But I happened to glance at it last week and saw that someone in Minneapolis, Minnesota is a DEDICATED sparkler.  Like seriously-checks it regularly, even though it was a long, dry summer and early fall for posts.  Obviously, there is only one person who I know in Minneapolis.  PRINCE!!  I actually concocted an entire theory about how he has someone on staff who he pays to "google" him everyday, and because I talk about him A LOT, his google person clued him in to my nifty blog and voila!!  He was hooked on my wit, love of amazing music, and my smoky eyes*.  (*see last years NYE post).

DUH.  So now I'm just waiting for the call that he wants me to come out there for a visit so I can be his new muse for his upcoming album of dirty pop songs that will be his comeback smash.  (not that he needs one because he's a legend, obvi).  But still.  I'll take a sabbatical from work, pack up mini (she will LOVE Paisley Park), and channel my inner Appolonia.  I'll do it for the fans, because we deserve another album of dirty pop songs.  And I'll do it because I think my missed calling is being a muse for Prince.  I totally knew all of the dance moves to "Gett Off" and "Cream" back in the day and thought I was the shiz!

So sparklers, I will do my best to add new posts as often as I can until I get that call.  Because once I do, I'm pretty sure I'll be too busy doing slinky dances along a floor, surrounded by half naked, oiled people to write much.  But I'll take lots of pictures.  Promise.

Prince, I am ready for you.  I'll work on my high pony, find my raspberry beret, and break out my flyest fly girl gear and be ready when you call.  Holla at your girl!

(Please note-I tried for a WHILE to embed the video for Gett Off here, and apparently, it's impossible times a million.  But here's a link.  If you have any sense of sexy, you'll watch it immediately.

It's Hard for Me to Say What's Right, When All I Wanna Do Is Wrong.

SD

Naughty Sandy? Yes, Please.

Hurricane Sandy, that is. It may or may not be a heap of nothing, but either way, I'm prepared with all of the essentials. Well, all of MY essentials.

And school is cancelled tomorrow! Just one more reason why working at a school is my jam.

" Tell me about it. Stud."

SD

Girl Crushing

I don't even need to say much because this clip of Tina Fey at an event last night for the Center for Reproductive Rights discussing the recent trend of privileged, political white men defining what "rape" is, is genius all on it's own and only reaffirms my belief that Tina and I would be great friends if we ever had the chance to share a bottle of Cab Sav someday.

(But seriously, how badly do I wish I could do some serious mean-girl ninja shit to these assholes who are trying to box in reproductive rights like it was 1965?  And believe me, I KNOW some major mean girl ninja shit and my palm is getting twitchy as the election gets closer!!)

SD

THIS BITCH.

While most people know my deep love for all things that sparkle, not all of my peeps know that I am also a little bit of a political nerd.  In truth-it's only when it comes to presidential elections, but every election year, I find myself going to the political blogs as much as, if not more, than my usual gossip ones.  So you know something major has gone down in the political arena when even Perez Hilton is talking about it.  So in case you were having a good day, let me ruin your mood with this little gem, tweeted by that misogynistic ass-hat toothpick, Ann Coulter :

I CAN'T EVEN WITH THIS BITCH.  Seriously, I know she does shit like this for attention, but give me a fucking break.  He is the PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES. And do you know what she said, when asked for a response by the political blog, politicker.com?  “The only people who will be offended are too retarded to understand it”. Such a cunt.  She honestly doesn't care who she is offending, as long as people are talking about it.

Do you know that she actually said, in public and in print, that the U.S. would be better off if women didn't have the right to vote?  For real:

"If we took away women's right to vote, we'd never have to worry about another Democrat president. It's kind of a pipe dream, it's a personal fantasy of mine, but I don't think it's going to happen. And it is a good way of making the point that women are voting so stupidly, at least single women.

It also makes the point, it is kind of embarrassing, the Democratic Party ought to be hanging its head in shame, that it has so much difficulty getting men to vote for it. I mean, you do see it's the party of women and 'We'll pay for health care and tuition and day care—and here, what else can we give you, soccer moms?" --New York Observer, October 2007

This bitch just needs to SIT DOWN.  It's bad enough that the current Republican ticket is hoping to put all kinds of rules, restrictions, and red tape on women's issues, especially on our vagina's.  But then this cunt is rooting them on, and mocking her own gender to get a sound bite on Fox News?  Fuck her and these men who think they should have a right to tell me what I can and can't do with my body or whom my rainbow friends can marry.  I'm not saying that our President is perfect, but at least I know he won't endanger my rights or those of my daughter.

THIS BITCH.  I just can't even with this bitch.

 

Tell 'em, B.

SD

Musical Inspector Gadget

I have a confession to make.  I really, really like Taylor Swift.  Well, actually, I really, really like her music.  Sometimes I find her personality and crazy hair whipping moves to be too reminiscent of that annoying drama/angst girl from high school that we all knew that I can't take it, but I think her lyrics are really smart and clever.  And I am a complete sucker for good lyrics.  Most of my friends know that I usually have music playing in the background whenever possible and my closest friends know that I also usually have some song (or two or three) that serve as my "theme song" for periods of my life.  Seriously-even in a boring week, I will have at least one song that serves as my personal soundtrack for a while until I find a new one.  So weird, right?  It's fine, I know it's weird, but I have been this way for as long as I can remember.  Even when it was just me and my Smurfette record player, I had songs that I thought of as "mine".  Thank God my mom and I didn't realize what Cyndi Lauper's "She-Bop" was actually about in 1984 because that one had staying power for a few months!  As did "Cool Rider" from Grease 2.   Don't even try to judge about that one because that song was AWESOME and the dance routine I made up to go along with it was even more fierce.  For a 6 year old.

One thing I can appreciate about Taylor is that she just sings shit about her exes without giving a damn.  And I (being the gossip slut that I am) always try to figure out who she is talking about based on her lyrics.  Because seriously-how awesome would it be to sell a million records about some prick who hurt your feelings like she does?  In truth, I'm pretty lucky because I haven't usually been on the recieving end of a sad heart and would feel pretty sheepish if someone had a hit record about what a cold-hearted bitch I was to them, but as a voyeur?  Love it.  Her new album, Red, was just released and of course I want to be a musical Inspector Gadget on the case, because she sounds really pissed this time around.  If I had to guess, I would say that Jake Gyllenhaal won't be on Taylor's Christmas card list, but I think she's also dated some randos since the last album so who knows?

Anyway, another thing I love is discovering new-to-me songs.  This is a song that has been out for a while, but I didn't know it existed until somehow I stumble upon it (Thank you, Spotify!) and can't believe I've survived without it.  I've mentioned my love of new music Tuesdays on iTunes before, but lately, nothing has been getting me excited that is "new".  But thanks to Spotify, I've been hooked on a lovely, slow Regina Spektor song that came out ages ago and have a new addiction to Joshua Radin.  (I'm also a sucker for singer/songwriters).  Expressing my own emotions in a normal way through verbal communications is totally uncomfortable and out of my box, but I could make a playlist for you and you would GET. IT.  (sounds very reminicent of Mary Catherine Gallagher, right?  Classic Molly Shannon SNL character?  "My emotions would best be expressed with a monologue from the classic made-for-tv movie, "Not Without My Daughter.")

For this reason, every time I see that commercial for the new cell phone (don't ask me what kind, because I don't remember.  It's the commercial where they make fun of people standing in line for iPhones) where people touch phones and trade playlists, I am tempted to get it.  I would be the sluttiest phone bumper, playlist sharer that there ever was.  I would totally try to rub my phone up against strangers phones to get their tunes.  It would be so awkward.  But I would do it for the joyful surprise of new music.  Yes, I would.

Awwwwkwaaard,
SD

PS-Hey, Slizzard!  I can already hear you saying, "Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?!" as I type this post, but I know you are laughing your ass off because it's all true....

Notes about my Mini

In the midst of all of the "dead dog, turning old, idiot asswipe brother*" drama of late, some other shiz has gone down, only this time it involved my Mini SD and it took a while to get to a jokey place about it.  However, after a convo with my main girl Slizzard, I am able to laugh at it for real today (as opposed to laughing so I don't freak the fuck out).  So obviously, I can share.

The long and short of it is that my Mini is three and a half.  She is fortunate enough to go to an amazing day care/pre-school (we'll call it "Mini School" for now) that she has attended since she was four months old.  The women there are AMAZING and love each kid for reals and they have each played a part in helping my Mini because the awesome little diva she is.  So when a month ago her current teacher pulled me aside and told me she had concerns about Mini, needless to say I paid attention and freaked the fuck out. Something happened that the teacher thought was a "red flag" for possible cognitive delays or differences.  Something that had me seeing far into her future: a pretty girl with low self esteem because she had these "cognitive delays" giving random handies to asshole lacrosse players and drinking vodka from a plastic bottle before school because she didn't value her own worth.  "Whoa", you must be saying to yourself.  What could have possibly happened to have me in tears in my office, imagining these terrible, awful things for my most precious, favorite person in the whole world?!!

She couldn't trace the letter 'A'.  Correction-she WOULDN'T trace the letter 'A'.

Seriously you guys.  THAT is the honest to god, swear on my dead dog, truth.  The teacher asked all of the kids to trace the dotted lines to make an 'A', and they all did it and she didn't want to and started crying and suddenly my girl is a Lifetime Movie waiting to happen in 10 years (according to me.)

 




Seriously-WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME?  Now in fairness, the teacher said that she's usually so happy, and it was a concern to see her cry because she loves school, blah blah blah.  But because of that and the fact that sometimes she is a little hard to understand when she says certain words like "actually" or "pretty please" we contacted a place that evaluates kids for everything from hearing disorders to autism.  Who literally formed an ARMY to meet with me and Mister, and two teachers from Mini School.  And after filling out more paperwork than I did to actually HAVE a child, we all met and went around in a circle saying things like "does she talk to the baby when she plays pretend?"  for an hour an a half.  And guess what?!  The Occupational Therapist was the last to grill us (she's the one who cares about things like tracing the letter 'A') and after looking at other more recent samples of things that Mini has traced (squiggly worm lines! a circle!  HER NAME!!) the lady said the following "Can we please remember that Mini is THREE YEARS OLD?"  (if it had been appropriate, I may have humped this woman's leg, that's how much her comment pleased me)

Seriously.  Mini is three and this woman basically said that it's great that other kids were tracing every 'A' they saw on the god damned paper, but the fact that she didn't but did tons of other tracing type things, just probably meant she didn't feel like tracing a fucking 'A' that day.

The happy ending to this story, and the reason why I can now joke about it, is that in all reality, she is fine.  Still my sparkly little, awesome Mini who sings at the top of her lungs and dances like a fool. Who traces all sorts of letters and shapes on a regular basis now.  She does go to school five days a week now, which meant a sad farewell to my Tuesday and Thursday nights of relative freedom, but she is rocking it at Mini School.

They are going to test her for language skills, because the biggest shocker of all is that she is apparently incredibly shy at school.  The loud-mouth, bossy little B that she is at home?  None of that at school.  And the Speech Therapist (who looks and acts like a clown school drop out) just wants to make sure everything is A-Ok in that department.  But even the teachers have started saying that since she's full time at Mini School now, she's starting to come out of her shell.  Honestly, I didn't think it was possible for my child to have a quiet or shy bone in her little body, but apparently she takes after Mister in that department while at school.

In a months time, I've gone from worrying about my daughter's future episode of "15 and Pregnant" to now realizing that she's just destined to be the reserved, classy girl in school.  Not the loud, obnoxious, show-off disaster I was.  PRAISE JESUS!!!

And on that note, I am heading off into my weekend a happy, soon to be tipsy, lady.  Oh, and how do I know that Mini is still WAY more my child than Misters?  This morning, listening to "Walk this Way" by Aerosmith (one of my favorite raunchy classic rock tunes!) Mini actually said to me, "Mommy, I like that song. Play it again!" and then proceeded to sing along with the chorus at top volume after asking me to roll down the windows.  (Which I didn't do, obvi, since I work at a fancy school and some bitches might judge a mom for that...)  But she does hit the high notes like a champ!

Happy Friday, Sparklers!  Tip some for your girl this weekend, cause Lawd knows, I will!


SD

*I can't EVEN start with my idiot, asswipe brother right now, but just know he's been an idiot asswipe causing stress for the past two months.

Wee Bits of Happy

Clearly I didn't get back to my "happy post" as quickly as I'd hoped to.  As with many things recently, I have higher ambitions than energy to complete them.  BUT.  A few things are making me smile this past week....

1-I got a freaking B+ in my first grad school class.  My first class ended last Thursday and I actually got a B+ in it!!!  This is the class that I thought for sure I was destined to fail because the amount of math and scary equations in it made me truly fearful.  And the few friends I made in class told me this was the hardest class they had taken in the program so far.  (Big F U to my advisor who recommended I take this course to start out with!)  These are people who only had one or two classes left.  Needless to say, I was not feeling hopeful about doing anything other than passing.  So a B+ is like an A+++ in my opinion.  When I saw my final grade, I was all:

(Of course my next class starts tomorrow night, so the pressure is back on again!)

2-American Horror Story comes back tonight.  I know only a few of my friends who are on board with this show, but I f-ing LOVE it, and with it being set in a crazy, religious insane asylum this time around, it is bound to be even creepier, spookier, and nightmare inducing than last season and for that I am PSYCHED.  Plus?  ADAM LEVINE.  The only reason I watch "The Voice" (besides to see X-tina's crazy dayshift stripper ensembles) is going to be on this awesome show.  Having sex.  How can you say no?  (Seriously-you can't.  Don't even try to resist the sexy.)

3-Red wine.  As sad as I am to retire my favorite summer sundresses and strappy sandals, the fall brings out my beloved sweater dresses, tall boots, and more importantly RED WINE.  And lately, with the amount of stress and BLAH that I've been feeling, a small (HUGE) glass (or 3) of the delightful red deliciousness makes a girl feel happy and sparkly again.  SOME people (judgy bitches) might call that feeling the beginnings of an alcohol problem.  Other people (my sparklers) GET IT and to them I say:

Tip It!  TIP. IT.
SD

Where To Start?

Holy hell, sparklers.  It has been a MONTH!  (Technically-it's been way longer than that, but saying "It has been SIX WEEKS" doesn't sound quite as snappy).  Has it really been since the end of August?  Jesus, where does time go?

Anyway-I don't even know where to begin with all of the shiz that's been bringing your girl down.   Not really "down" like I have the saddies all day, every day, but just "down" like I feel like I am so overwhelmed that my sparkle might have started to tarnish.  (Not really-don't even THINK such a thing!)  So I work at a school, which has been a whirlwind since starting on August 28.  Plus I started my grad school classes the week before that, which have been kicking my ass on a weekly basis, making me feel completely intellectually inept and like the dumbest girl ever.  SO. MUCH. MATH.  Math is my kryptonite, my Achilles heel, the thing that causes immediate sweating (and not in a good, "Magic Mike dancing to the pony song" or Adam Levine shirtless way.)  It makes me sweat in an actual, fearful way because I have no idea what the fuck a liquidity ratio is, let alone how to figure it out on a financial report.  The good news is that I got an A- on my solo mid-term project (with a lot of help from our Director of Finance!!) and my last class is next week.  The bad news is that my last class is next Thursday and I have to start all over again the following Thursday.  And my school is in a GORGEOUS area of the city, on the water and directly across the Four Seasons.  And every Thursday night from 6-9, I am heading into an air-conditioned, windowless classroom while people are strolling along the waterfront and heading into the swank bars right there.  SO. NOT. SPARKLY.  I just keep telling myself that it will be worth it, whenever the hell I can finish.  Seriously, it's too depressing to think about how long I am going to be doing this.  On a related note-I am now completely obsessed with getting a MacBook Air for my academic endeavors.  All the cool kids in my class have them (truth-there ARE no cool kids in there!) but I think they are sexy and people seem to be able to look like they are paying attention and still g-chat and surf the web at lightening speed.  So obviously I feel as though this piece of equipment is essential to my academic success.

Other breaking news is that I turned 35 and feel really freaking old now.  I know I am not actually really old, but 35 just seems like an age where I should be more mature and have my shit together way more than I actually do.  I made a list of "Things a 30-year old should not do anymore" when I turned 30 and for the most part, I've stuck to them.  Like, I don't think (at least I don't remember) I've danced on top of a bar since turning 30.  I haven't dressed like a total whore when going out with friends, and have tried to eat better and take better care of my body than I did in my 20's.  Of course, I still drink like a professional alcoholic, but baby steps, right?

But 35 seems like the age where shit gets REAL.  Like if Mister and I want to have another baby (which may be in the cards or not), I don't have a lot of time to figure that out.  With Mini SD, I was all like "Oh, I don't want to be pregnant in the summer because there are lots of fun parties, and I don't want to be knocked up for New Years, etc..."   But now, I feel like fucking Ally McBeal with an invisible dancing baby chasing me around, reminding me that time is a-ticking and I had better make up my mind if I want to give Mini a sibling to boss around or not.

It didn't help that my beloved, stinky, fluffy mutt Tootsie died five days before my birthday.  I got her when I was young, newly single and acting all sorts of crazy in Atlanta.  She was like a symbol of my youth, as much as my python pants, or backless belly shirts were.  And she just suddenly got sick and Poof! we had to put her down.  It was awful and caused ugly crying like the Mister had never seen.  IN PUBLIC.  And my people know how much I despise crying in front of others.

Needless to say, 35 has pretty much sucked ass so far.  The past month has made me curse my bestie Slizzard for moving 400 god damned miles away because at times like these, you need your bestie.

God, I sound so dreadfully depressing.  Which I don't feel right now, but I wanted my sparkly friends who continue to check this wee little blog to know why I was MIA for so long.  And on that note, let's end this post and start a new, happy one, shall we?

Stupid Crybaby,
SD

Love

I just saw Jason Mraz in concert for the second time in nine months. Last time, he came on stage, sang two songs I know, 20 songs I don't, and looked like a hobo. I nearly quit him.

This time? Two songs in, he played my most FAVORITE song, " Butterfly" and continued to play all of my most favorite, somewhat obscure songs, and looked like a cleaned up hippie/hobo. It worked! Totally recommitted.

Butterfly. SO good. Go swim in it if you don't already know it. And then thank me after you suddenly feel like having sweet, slow sexy times again.

You're welcome.
SD

End of Summer = Extra Sparkles

How the hell is it August already?  Jesus, it seems like two minutes ago I was getting psyched for summer hours to start at work and suddenly it's August and Back-to-School time and I am freaking out!  (although have you seen the Old Navy back-to-school commercial with Brandon and AHN-Drea from 90210??  LOVE)  Anyway.  So here I am, slightly freaking because my summer hours end next Wednesday AND my first grad school class starts the following Thursday.  WTF!!  Grad school seemed like the best idea ever when I actually got in and when it was months away, just an obscure blip on the horizon.  But now it's ON.  Like my book was delivered today and I am getting a little sweaty (and not in a good way) looking through it.  "Statistical Analysis of Market Behavior"?  Seriously, what the fuck was I thinking?!

Plus, my summer has been so completely jacked up with a massive workload, that I feel like it's not fair to whoosh right into responsible, grown up mode again.  Every day has been like those days you have where you sit down at your desk, do a shit-ton of work, and by the time you look up it's 1:30.  Definitely not the carefree, take two hour lunches once a week, times of summers past!  Being a grown up in the summer is stupid.

Luckily, I have jam-packed the next two weeks with enough sparkly shenanigans to hopefully sustain me through the long, grown-up fall.  First up.....  ATLANTA BITCHES!!!!  Seriously-I am going to see my Atlanta ladies for a long, girls-only weekend and couldn't be more excited.  I haven't been back to Atlanta (home to MANY of my most famous shenanigans, ever) in a really long time.  And the last time was years ago for a civilized (ish) wedding with my Mister.  A girls weekend?  I can't even recall the last time.  I'm almost afraid (not really) of what could happen.  I plan to leave all sense of responsibility and "almost 35-ness" (totally freaking out about turning 35 next month too) at home as soon as I board my Delta flight on Thursday morning.  I'll just leave it in long term parking with my car and put it back on when I get home on Sunday.  That's mature and reasonable, right?  Now my only issue is figuring out how to pack all of my little dresses and big shoes into a bag I can carry on.  (clearly an impossible task, but I am working on it!)

And then, to round out my last weeks of playtime, the Mister and I are heading BACK to the Jersey shore without Mini the following weekend.  We debated taking Mini and making it a wholesome (ish) family time, but decided that one last weekend of debauchery was probably necessary before I buckle down and go back to school.  (Now I have THAT song from Grease 2 in my head!)    So Teeny and Tony are going to host my last "act a fool" party and for that I am extremely grateful!

So for now, I am going to close my eyes and revel in the last few sunny weeks of recess, like a puppy laying in the sun after a bath.  Just close my eyes, wiggle around and pretend that I'm not a grown up and NOT turning 35 in a month.  SO mature, I know.  Whatever.  Go ahead and judge if you want.  Sticks and stones, bitches, sticks and stones....

I wonder if my fancy grad school would kick me out for dancing into my first class with a pink satin jacket on?  It would make the pain of going back to school infinitely more bearable.

Stephanie Zinone, 4 EVA,
SD

Vacation

Riding back from the beach, I feel so thankful for a fantastic weeks away from work, stress, and most responsibilities. It was the best trip an we loved sharing part of it with our besties, Swizzle and Swill. The kids had a blast being silly together and I am already pinning ideas for Mini and Swizzle's son's future wedding. As with every good vacation, I ate too much, drank WAY too much, and am coming home plump and happy, in need of a pedicure, some detox, and intense working out.... Starting Monday.

Because right now I am sitting in the back seat with my grumpy, 3 year old mini SD, and quite honestly she is being an asshole and making me want a huge drink as soon as we get home. Seriously, I wish I could just tell her to shut the fuck up every time she whines, rather than trying to talk to and soothe her. You're riding in a sweet ass seat, eating snacks, watching your favorite movies, and falling asleep whenever you want! What the HELL is your problem?! Ass-hole.

(Ok, so I might be a little grumpy too. The end of vacation sucks)

Copper-toned, baby,
SD

PS- after this trip, I have decided I hate: Max and Ruby (even more than before), Tinkerbell and her bullshit problems and mean girl fairy friends, and doing anything to my hair other that washing it and letting it do it's own curly thing. I decided I DO love: my BFF Swizzle (even more than before) because she completes me like no one else, Barefoot Pinot Grigio (of which we consumed A LOT), and making my own family memories at the same spots I did when I was a wee one.

HH

Holy hell. How hot is it? In case you are reading this and do not live in the Mid-Atlantic, let me school you on that is it hotter than Lucifers balls roasting over a bonfire in August. The solution? Happy hour in the air conditioning with lovely cool cocktails, obviously.

It's one of those nights where I feel shenanigans in the air, sparklers. Shenanigans!

Cool like Cucumbers,
SD

Cutest Car Service, Ever.

Nikki O'Connor. You are our hero. Can't wait for you to be irresponsible with us tomorrow! Love you.

A Perfect Storm for Shenanigans

Everything happens for a reason, right?  At least that's what I always tell myself.  So here's what happened... Last weekend, Mister, Mini, and myself were supposed to head to the beach with his family for a long weekend and to celebrate Father's Day.  Instead, Mini got a little sick and Mister got in a HUGE fight with his Pops and we decided not to go.  (Side note-Mister works with his Mom and Dad.  NIGHTMARE, IMO).  Anyway, we stay home and celebrate a lovely, drama-free Father's Day.  On Monday, Mister said that perhaps he would take Mini to the beach at the end of the week.  I, however, could not go because I had scheduled all of my meetings I thought I would be missing at the beginning of the week for the end. Needless to say, I was feeling a wee bit bitter at Pops.  A few days later, one of my besties from college announces that she wants to come visit this weekend because she is having trouble at home.  Our third college musketeer, Tini, decides to come down and voila-we have a legit girls night out.  Just us old college roommates/sorority sisters/besties.  Which hasn't happened since Britney and Justin we wearing matching denim evening wear.  (Seriously, remember how awkward/awesome they were?!)

Tini had a crazy idea about staying in and cooking so we could get crunk without consequence.  To which I was all...

So what does this mean?  SHENANIGANS!!!!  Dinner reservations and cocktails (many, many cocktails!) and getting dolled up!  Thank GOD things happened the way they did!  Mister and Mini left for the beach this morning, I have a happy hour date for tonight with my long lost buddy, Ali McLegsforDays (so excited!) and tomorrow night with my girls will be all...

With less flannel and more fabulous, obviously.

AS IF,
SD

Silver Linings...

Hello sparklers.  What a month it's been so far!  I think I mentioned in my last (drug assisted) post that I was in a car accident a few weeks ago.  Thankfully I was by myself and came away from it relatively uninjured.  But I was a little (LOT) shaken up and feeling more than a little PTS about the whole thing. Luckily I have the MOST amazing compartmentalizing ability.  Seriously, my brain is a regular self storage unit for the things I pack away, never to be thought of again!  Anyway, I am just now starting to drive like a normal person again (and not like a 95 year old blind woman).  And guess what?  They declared my car a "total loss".  Which means....

Mama is gettin' a new ride!!!!

Don't get me wrong, I actually loved my old car.  It served me well and was perfect for me and my little family.  But I am pretty psyched about the fancy new car we bought last night.  I'm like a little kid on Christmas eve, waiting to pick it up.  Especially since the rental I've been driving for two weeks is the biggest P.O.S. I've ever seen and I'm embarrassed to be seen in it.  Mini hates it because it doesn't play her music.  Which recently has been "Call Me Maybe" (I know, go ahead and judge.  I deserve it) and a renewed love of Beyonce (which of course I co-sign).  But now when we get in the car in the mornings, I hear nothing but local radio chatter and inane commercials, which make me want to run straight into ANOTHER pole, head on.  Even Mini is grumpy by the time we get to school.

So tomorrow I pick up my new fancy car and expect I'll be a very sophisticated, fancy lady from now on.  I'll be blaring obscene Prince (and yes, annoying Carly Rae Jepsen for Mini and B for both of us), but I'll still be super fancy while doing so.  :)

Get Me Bodied....
SD

PS-Summer hours are my JAM.  I love working at a school.

PPS-Watching that video has me really craving a sparkly dress type night out.  Ladies (you know who you are!)-I'm lookin' at you...  

My Brain Is Rotting

This post is going to be short and sweet and not at all sparkly.  I was in a car accident a few days ago, which resulted in a tiny shoulder injury.  No worries, I'm totally fine, just in pain.  I actually think I would rather be in labor than feel the kind of pain I had the past few days.  I'm not telling you sparklers this for sympathy.  But to explain the true tragedy of the accident.  I'm home by myself, and maybe it's the muscle relaxers, but I have watched almost 4 hours of a Real Housewives show, which I have never watched before.  I can't look away.  I CANNOT LOOK AWAY.  My shoulder will heal, but I don't think I can ever recover from watching the crazy, mouth vomit of Kelly from RHNYC.  

KOO KOO.

I might OD on muscle relaxers just to get away from this.  (not really, so don't send Candy Finnegan).

CRAZY,

SD

All Smiles Today!

I love holiday weekends.  I ESPECIALLY love holiday weekends when I am cutting out of work early to head to the beach!  Mister and I are dropping Mini at my parents and heading to the Jersey Shore.  Not the Snookie Jersey Shore.  A different one, where we will have fun and shenanigans with two of my college besties (also a couple) all weekend.  Tini and Tony (Soprano) are always excellent hosts and Mister and I have the best time with them.  The thought of a bikini was quite daunting, but after a week-long, highly disciplined routine of exercise and starvation (kidding-ish) I am feeling less terrified at the prospect.

Plus the thought of being able to sleep in past 5:30 is making me delirious with delight.  Mini has been waking up at the ass crack of dawn for almost two weeks and Mama is f-ing TIRED.  So the combo of sleep, sunshine, cocktails, dancing, and sundresses is making me feel like this right now:

Just Lovely and Delicious...
SD

Here We Go....

SUMMERTIME!!!  I officially declare summertime today.  Work has been nonstop cray-cray for weeks, and while it's not over, this weather is making the crazy a little more palatable.  Excited to get my orange crush on with old pals tonight and kick off a sunshiny, fun timey weekend.

If you aren't in a summery mood, this delicious, sugar jem from the Sundays should get you there.  If it doesn't, obviously your soul is arctic and dead.

With a squeeze and a sigh and a twinkle in my eye.
SD

Of Course

Trying to fight the mid-afternoon, working mother, too many carbs at lunch exhaustion and my fairy godmother (aka my main gay) sent this to me for a number of reasons and suddenly I'm up again!  Of course Michelle Pfeiffer as a Pink Lady is perfectly perfect perfection and I've already added this song to my running playlist.  I feel like an asshole that I ever forgot about it in the first place.  I'm totally wearing my motorcycle jacket tomorrow.  Not sure if I can swing a ladder-top sexy dance.  Although I DID just try a pole/chair dancing class for the first time on Saturday and  feel confident that with this song and enough alcohol, I could totally scandalize a step ladder.  Or at least Mini's teeth brushing step-stool.

Not Too Pure to Be Pink,

SD  

WTF-ness Overload

Mini and I went to visit my bestie this past weekend. It's the first time Mini has ever flown and I did it by myself. Going back to this post, I feel as though I deserve a mommy badge for that feat. And doing it hungover on the way home, after two days of too much wine, too many screaming kids and not enough sleep? Fuck that. I most DEFINITELY deserve an award. Anyway, my thoughts are so scrambled today so below is a list of random WTF-ness that is going through my head.

1-Single Mommy-ness: The Mister was at a golf/bachelor party all weekend (which is why Mini and I packed up to see Slizzard since her husband was also partaking in the debauchery). It was a fun weekend for me in a different way but completely exhausting from traveling with Mini. She was a total rockstar, but is a busy girl and I really didn't want to be the mom with the screaming asshole kid on the plane. So I had every imaginable treat, book, toy, game I could stuff into my bag and used them all to try to keep her entertained. (Turns out she thought the in-flight drink menu was way more exciting than what I brought. Don't even judge). I was literally so tired when I got home last night that when we were eating dinner I interrupted him telling me about how it was a perfect night to snuggle on the couch after we put Mini to bed to inform him that I was so tired that I wanted to cry. And I did. Want to cry. Even more so when he reminded me that he is leaving for Chicago tomorrow morning for three days. It took much restraint and self-control to not smash my delicious pizza in his face and shove pepperoni up his nose. Fuck! Luckily a good night's rest ( I was asleep by 8:00) put things into perspective and I feel much less like puncturing his man bits with my pointiest heels. Plus two nights of being able to catch up on my favorite shows (none of which he likes) and g-chat with my pals without feeling like a neglectful wife isn't SO bad.

2-Coachella Fashion. Seriously you guys. What the FUCK are people thinking when they dress for this event? I know it's a hippy dippy drug and music bash in the desert, but it appears to me that it's also a competition to see who can dress like the most whacked out, piece of fug hooker trash on the block. I just can't with these bitches: (but check out K. Stew's Hat!)













3. East Coast Weather. Two weeks ago I was wearing sundresses and sandals. Today I had to get my winter coat back out of the closet. WTF? When I make the warm weather switch to open toed shoes, pretty pink pedicures, and white wine, I get really salty when I have to bust the boots back out and mess up my pedi. (Going back to red wine when it's cold isn't QUITE as tough. I'm adaptable like that). But seriously, I need Mother Earth to make up her f-ing mind so it doesn't take me 25 minutes and three outfit changes to figure out what to wear each morning.

4. Bikram Yoga. Turns out I LOVE this stuff. I seriously felt remarkably more peaceful, healthier, and more zen-ish after one class than I have felt in a very long time. Like ever. Same for the second class I took. So why the "WTF"? Because it's 90 goddamn minutes long and I only have that kind of time once a week, if that. And I have to drive almost 20 minutes to get there. Isn't there some sort of "Bikram Light" that could open up in the yoga studio across the street so I could actually do it with any amount of regularity? Why do Bikram yogi hate working mothers?

I think that's it for now. Despite my weekend of pouring wine (red and white) in my gullet, I am counting down until I can head home and pour a glass (red, due to this bullshit weather) and finish the final "50 Shades" book on my iPhone while playing tea party with Mini and her 48 baby dolls (all named "baby doll").

Laters, baby.

SD

PS-This is my new favorite time suck EVER.

Oops, I Crapped My Pants.

We’ve been potty training Mini SD. She is about to turn 3 so I thought it was time she embraced a diaper-free lifestyle. I was DREADING it like I used to dread my alarm going off at 6:30 A.M. when I got home at 4:00. (Now that I am a responsible adult, obviously I don’t pull shenanigans like that anymore). Anyway-I was pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t as dreadful as I had thought. We went the “straight to big girl panties” route. None of the pull-up diaper shit. She wore one a few times before we started trying and the thing is, a pull up is still a fucking diaper. It’s just bigger, bulkier, and doesn’t absorb a thing so it gives your kid the illusion of being able to piss to their hearts content, when in actuality the first time you pick them up, you are immediately soaked in urine. So after researching different methods, I just threw some princess panties on Mini and made plans to be a hermit for a weekend. And luckily, between princess panties and gummy worms (Mini’s favorite treat) she has been a diaper-free rock star. Like even the teachers at daycare are asking me what I did. WHAT? No one ever asks for my parenting advice. I will say that my BFF, Slizzard gave me a few pointers and went so far as to say she should be an Independent Potty Training Consultant, but I still think it was my rad parenting skills that made the difference. Mini has had a very small number of pee accidents and not a single poo mishap. I was feeling all sorts of proud and wise until this past weekend. We had Mini’s 3^rd birthday party. It was her first “friend” party and it was awesome. 17 toddlers and 18 adults came to celebrate my little girl and she made her party girl mama proud. It was a dance party/hop the kids up on pink cupcakes and let them run around and act a fool party. Mini was having an amazing time and I was, again, feeling super proud of my mommy skills. Until my own mother came up while I was receiving praise about my awesome party skills from another mommy and whispered in my ear “SD. We have a situation.” I walked over and saw that Mini had some sort of tail/growth on her bottom. Except. Oh, no, it wasn’t a growth. My child was just so excited about how much fun her party was that she LITERALLY shat in her pants. And thought that since it wasn’t wet, it was no big whoop and wanted to party on. Seriously?! We’ve made it almost a month with minimal potty training disasters, and Mini chooses to shit on my proud parent parade here?! F! Luckily, very few people realized what was happening because they were all chasing their own sugar-blitzed kids, so I was able to get Mini all fixed up and back in the party with only a few people knowing about it. And that’s only because I couldn’t help laughing and saying that she liked her party so much that she literally shit her pants. So now, people are going to look back at her party fondly and some will (hopefully) remind her when she is being a bitchy teenager that at her first real party, she pooped her pants. HA. I just hope she doesn’t have the same kind of poo revulsion that I have. Otherwise I might be in for some hefty therapy bills. (for both of us)

Shits and Giggles,

SD

Take Me Out

So all of a sudden, I feel like quite the social butterfly. Throughout the winter, I felt a little bit reclusive (as much as I can be), doing lots of stay-at-home with the fam type things. And now I am preparing to embark on my third weekend in a row of actual playdates with grown-ups! I am almost giddy about this fun turn of events. It actually started last night with a visit from my good friend Nikki O'Connor (hey, girl!) and a few bottles of wine. And it doesn't hurt that my weekend actually starts tonight, with a mini happy hour at a fun little wine bar. (One of the benefits of working at a school is Good Friday is a holiday for me) The trouble will come AFTER the happy hour, when I should go home, but nice weather and wine will make me want to stay out and go to one of the truly rando bars that surround the wine bar. I'm hoping Grown-Up me will send my ass home, but she usually takes off after two glasses of wine, so we'll see... (Tipsy Me is one irresponsible hooka!)

Also on the agenda-Bikram Yoga tomorrow (which I feel certain I will love or hate violently) and a freaking pole/chair dance class that I bought a Groupon for quite impulsively. Then I'll be taking my freaky yogi self out with my Mister for an actual grown-up dinner with other adults. No children. No Mini asking me for "sumpin' else" every 10 minutes? What's happening to my life?!

Anyway, I hope you all have something sparkly planned this weekend. Or at least get your fill of Cadbury eggs.

Get Your Freak On,

SD

OB-SESSED

So this past weekend I became OBSESSED with two things. Obsessed. Well actually, one was just a further plunge into obsession and the other is something new that I feel compelled to share with my sparklers.

1-The Hunger Games. Did you see it?!! OMHolyHell it was good! I was very into the books. Devoured all three within on week and was the nerd-girl superfan checking sites daily for casting updates when they started pre-pro on the movie. I was unsure about some peeps they cast (Hey, Peeta, I'm lookin' at you) and delighted with others (Hey, Cinna/Lenny Kravitz/Mr. Loverman.) But overall, I absolutely LOVED the visual interpretation of the book and plan to go see it again in theaters. I know some people were uptight about details from the book being left out or altered, but for me, it worked as best as it could. I'm already stalking my sites for casting updates for the next film. Finnick? Johanna? (BTW-some sites were throwing around Reese Witherspoon and Kristen Bell to play Johanna. BITCHES PLEASE. Please, don't eff this next movie up with big names just for the sake of big names now that this franchise is so huge.) Jennifer Lawrence was completely amazing. And Liam Hemsworth as Gale was delish. Anyway-I saw it with a group of people-some who had read the books and some who hadn't and everyone enjoyed it. Maybe not as much as me and my other super-obsessed friends, but either way-drop whatever you're doing and go see it immediately.

2-Another f-ing book trilogy. Seriously, you guys? Do all new books come in threes, like bad things? So, I've been hearing buzz for a while now about a new book, "50 Shades of Grey". From a LOT of people. And like The Hunger Games, at first I was like "whatevs". And then a lot more people were talking about it and I thought I should at least read the amazon.com description to see what it is about. It was completely vague and didn't explain to me why so many women were buzzing about it. So I read the reader reviews and was shocked! It's basically a romance novel about S & M. And the people who were talking, tweeting, and facebooking about this were NOT people who I would have thought would be interested (at least publicly!) in a book like this. I work at a school and a group of moms actually started a book club FOR THIS BOOK! Seriously. I'm not Lady Prudy McPruderstein at all, so I decided to check it out and haven't been able to put it down. Like, I downloaded it to my iPhone so that when I am away from my iPad, I can still read it. And there are two more books! I'm doomed. But i think it is fascinating that so many women are loving this fairly kinked up love story. I've read that there is currently a heated bidding war going on for the movie rights, which makes me wonder HOW? If you read this book, you will also ask HOW? How will they be able to make this movie (which has A. LOT. OF. SEX.) in it. And not romantic, blurry lens "love-making" sex. It's mostly straight up f-ing. In every chapter. There is a padded sex room with riding crops and whips in it. SEX. And clearly it grabbed my attention, so it's getting added to my list of obsessions. But it's one of those things that I am not inclined to share at the lunch table with my work friends, so I decided to share it with my sparklers. Have you read it yet? If so, do you love it or do you think I am a depraved woman with no moral compass? (don't answer that)

Whip it. Whip it, good.

:)

SD