Honoring Amy Sedaris

I just wanted to take a moment to acknowledge the genius of this woman -- I have revered and worshipped her brother, David, for years (he might be the funniest essayist alive) but after receiving, "I Like You: Hospitality Under the Influence" for Xmas from my sister, I decided it was time to turn the spotlight on Amy. Not only does she offer kick-ass recipies from hot wings to popcorn for one, she also offers helpful tips for blind dates, steering us ladies away from asking such hard questions as, "Does the sun make noise?" or "Will we see each other again?"

She has also captured a live photo of one of my favorite things ever described by David Sedaris. Behold.

Yes, my friends, this is the "Fuck It Bucket" for use on those occasions as Paul Sedaris (aka The Rooster) says, "When shit gets you down just say, 'Fuck it' and eat some motherfuckin' candy." I don't think wiser words have ever been spoken, and I am currently installing a bucket in my apartment as we speak.

Also, this cake made me pee a little laughing. Oh. Daddy.

Anyway, I could go on an on, but I will leave you with this fantastic list she provides regarding the complex palates of boys.

"Boys don't like skimpy meals, salads, lamb chops with handles, hot fruit."

"Boys like meat, extra portions, pies, gravy, toothpicks, and pussy."

I think that about sums it up, and I've got to get back to my real writing. It's just that this is so much more fun.

Oh. No. and Merry Christmas

Two things I had to report on before the celebration of the birth of our lord Jesus. 1. Nicole Ritchie, the Vicodin Elf. (Please note vicodin pills around her neck and the pot leaf necklace. Please.)

2. This just in from US Weekly: "Close pals" tell Us that Jennifer Aniston has been so affected by the widely circulated images of Shiloh that "she collapses in a heap, clutching her womb like she's been stabbed if she so much as passes a baby stroller on the street," and has taken to "throwing baby dolls into a bonfire on the beach behind her place in Malibu. It's creepy, but she says it makes her feel better for a few hours." The friend, however, offers hope that Jen's heart is on the mend: "At least she's stopped watching Mr. & Mrs. Smith over and over again, for days at a time without eating or sleeping. That just wasn't healthy."

Thank god she's turned off the DVD player, right ladies? Because burning baby dolls with the name "Shiloh" etched across their foreheads in Lancome eyeliner is just so much more, well, SANE. Oh, Jen. It's still got to suck. I think it may be time to smoke a bowl with that margarita. Just a thought. I also watched "Friends With Money" again last night, and it's so good, and Jen's so good in it, all I can do is hope the burning of the babies ceases soon, and I must note, I am especially skeptical of the reported clutching of her womb and the stop, drop and rolling if she so much as hears what might be a baby crying. But it's US Weekly, they never lie, do they?

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!

Happy Birthday To Me

Now it's not as though the celebrities have been behaving themselves these past few days (hello, Tori Spelling and your baby carriage that totes around not a baby, but a fat pug with a bad hip, hello Britney, breaking up with Paris and taunting Kevin by making out with his friends and rubbing it in his face that he will never again live in a house with 36 bedrooms and three pools ever again) but I thought I'd take a break from all that to confirm the rumors that I am indeed 34. It was official yesterday, and I'm still trying to process it. Not that there's anything wrong with it. It's just suddenly I'm semi-officially in my mid-thirties and I have no idea how in the hell that happened. Life is actually pretty good - I'm writing, live in a great apartment and have fantastic friends that helped me celebrate my swing into middle age this last weekend - but I still don't know where my 20s went some days. Not that I miss them. Those were horrifically long, torturous years, filled with self-doubt, men that ranged from innappropriate to out on parole and too many bad desk jobs too count. I've become a totally different person since then (stop snickering MacNamera. Ok, a mostly different person. At least I breathe and count to ten before I blurt out my feelings) Anyway, I am different enough that I almost had a date last night with a seemingly appropriate man. He unfortunately had to reschedule, which put me right back in the 7th grade, fat and lonely, listening to "Every Rose Has Its Thorns" over and over again, but that was only for 20-30 minutes. Hello growth and maturity! At any rate, it got me thinking about what it might be like to actually be dating someone over the holidays, so I clicked on the MSN advice tab regarding this issue, and came up with some pressing questions that I just had to share. (I did not make these questions up, although the responses are mine. I look forward to worrying about all these things when I get married. I can't wait.)

My husband’s family sits around in pajamas all morning. I don’t feel comfortable. Is it ok if I get dressed?

Um, yeah. Go ahead and shower, Miss Type-A, they won't hate you at all.

My husband’s family has this dreadful tradition of going caroling with the neighbors. Do I have to go?

Well, that is indeed dreadful. I cannot think of a more dreadful thing, really, unless it involves Christmas sweaters and wearing antlers on one's head.

I feel nervous that my husband isn’t giving me enough information on his family. They’re an idiosyncratic bunch and I don’t want to commit a faux pas.

First of all, I think you need to cease and desist with the little old lady vocab and stop using words like "dreadful" and "faux pas." After that, ask yourself a couple of questions. Is it possible that you aren't your husband's only wife and that's why you don't know much about his family? What does idiosyncratic really mean? Does it mean they skin bunnies and sell the pelts or that they don't like to shower first thing on Christmas morning? Some tough questions, Miss Type-A, but I think if you do some soul searching, you'll find the answers.

Happy Xmas to you all....I hope there are some people out there reading this, otherwise, that is ten minutes of my life I'm never going to get back. xo

Just had to report this newsflash from The Superficial:

Lindsay Lohan says she hasn't had a drink in seven days and has actually been attending AA for a year now. She tells People:

"I just left an AA meeting. I've been going to AA, for a year by the way. Well it's no one's business. That's why it's anonymous! I haven't had a drink in seven days. Or anything. I'm not even legal to, so why would I? I don't drink when I go to clubs. I drink with my friends at home, but there's no need to. I feel better not drinking. It's more fun. I have Red Bull.

I didn't feel bad before. I never felt bad. I just wanted to, like, find a balance. I was out too much. I was too caught up. I mean, I'm 20 years old. I was off from work, I was getting ready to start a film, and I was like going out just to get it out of my system. I was going out too much and I knew that, and I have more to live for than that. I was like, I don't want to be written about at these clubs with these people. I work, I act, I have a living. That's what I do every day. I work every single day."

So what we've seen from Lindsay so far is a years worth of AA? She might as well have been attending knitting class. In fact I'm pretty sure she was attending knitting class and just didn't know it. She probably comes home every week with some newly knitted mittens and is like, "Fighting alcoholism is tough."

Um, I have nothing else to add, except that I can't wait to see those mittens. I might even knit them for her. Maybe with AA in sequins on one and a question mark on the other?

It's Like, Yeah, Motherfucker, I'm Making A Searching And Fearless Moral Inventory Of Myself

A Los Angeles spy reports seeing Lindsay Lohan yesterday at a 7:30 a.m. AA meeting near her apartment in the Sierra Towers. A friend of Lohan confirmed, "She has attended several meetings and has hopefully decided to turn her life around - this time for good. She is out of control." This news, of course, comes as a shock: We've always assumed that any report of Lohan entering AA would follow an ugly incident in the Cedars Sinai emergency room in which the visibly "dehydrated" actress would demand that her medical pit crew fill up her IV with Grey Goose so that she wouldn't lose her buzz on the way back to Hyde for last call. Nevertheless, we're encouraged by the anonymous friend's hint that Lohan won't be taking any drastic steps towards sobriety until the shooting of her movie is complete; realizing that she needs more time before she's ready to try and practice her craft on more than two hours of fitful sleep and without a crippling hangover is a sure sign of the maturity necessary for an eventual triumph over her problem......


Oh, Miss Lohan. I often find myself dressing up as an Indian Princess who only wants peace on earth whenever I take a fearless moral inventory of myself. Smoke that, motherfuckers!

Sorry, Mom. I just had to use that word.

I've got not much else to report today, off to a wine tasting and some mimosas with a late brunch with co-workers. Should be good times.