I know, right?

Jackie O's crazy relatives

2012-02-18T15:15:00.002-06:00

Last night, I saw an amazing documentary.

Grey Gardens is a startling and mesmerizing peak into the lives of Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis's aunt, Big Edie, and her first cousin, Little Edie.

The documentary, from 1975, reveals the mother and daughter lived in complete squalor in a filthy old mansion. They ate canned food in a garbage-covered room, while cats peed on the bed. They cackled over meaningless jokes. They sang songs nobody remembered. They fought over petty nonsense.

What makes this raw footage even more shocking is that these two women were once beautiful and dazzling society ladies.

Big Edie, who was the sister to Jackie O's father, married a prominent, wealthy lawyer.

Her only daughter, Little Edie, was born in 1917.

Big Edie was desperate to become a famous jazz singer and despite being a high society wife, she longed to have a Bohemian artistic lifestyle. Her inappropriate behavior and jazz lounge gigs humiliated her husband, who eventually left her, taking all his money with him.

On a whim, Big Edie took her daughter out of boarding school, forcing the child to attend musicals and movies with her every single day. After two years, Big Edie was forced to put her daughter back in school.

Little Edie grew up into the most gorgeous female in her family. Even her younger cousin (the future First Lady) would never even compare.

In the 1940s, Little Edie became a fashion model, but the career was shot down when her furious and embarrassed father found out.

She flirted and dated dozens of the most handsome and wealthiest bachelors in the world. Even John F. Kennedy's older brother fell madly in love with her after one night, begging for her hand in marriage after seeing her briefly at a dance.

But Little Edie brushed them all away, because she was holding out for someone spectacular. She just wasn't sure who yet.

In her late 20s, she moved to New York City to pursue her dream of being a star. She also secretly wanted to find that magical Mr. Right she had been dreaming about since girlhood.

By 1952, she had found neither yet. Her mother, Big Edie, called her, insisting she return to their East Hampton home, Grey Gardens, and keep her company. Immediately. She didn't want to be alone, and didn't think it was a good idea for Little Edie to pursue her dreams in the Big Apple anymore.

With her tail between her legs, Little Edie moved back into her childhood home and quickly sunk into madness. A skin condition caused her to lose all her hair, becoming bald and eyebrowless. She had to wear turbans every day. She spent years taking care of her mother, bitterly agonizing about "what might have been" if she had stayed in New York City, or married one of her wealthy girlhood suitors.

She wallowed most of her adult life in complete regret. She blamed her mother for it too.

As the years went by, they became poorer and poorer. They had to sell furniture, piece by piece, to survive in their decaying mansion.

And there they were, in 1975, two faded beauties lost in their own disappointments and swallowing their "what ifs." Big Edie spent hours listening to her old jazz records, wishing she had made it as a singing sensation during the 1930s. Little Edie longingly gazed at photographs of herself when she was a 20-something knockout and could stop traffic with her looks.

No money. No friends. No future.

But not forgotten.

Decades after the documentary was released, it inspired a musical about the mother and daughter in 2006, plus a television drama starring Drew Barrymore (playing Little Edie) last year.

Two spreads in Vogue have been dedicated to Little Edie's style, and in 2007, Marc Jacobs created the Little Edie bag for his collection.

Bunny in the Big Apple

2012-02-15T20:50:00.003-06:00

My best friend Jonny moved to New York City this week.

I'm so sad, because I am going to miss him a lot. But, I'm very proud of him for chasing his dream of being a Broadway star. There is nothing worse than waking up 20 years later and wondering "what if?". Not many people have the guts, or the drive, to follow their own ambitions.

Before he left for the Big Apple, Jonny and I had dinner with our friend, John, as a sort of goodbye celebration.

I wish Jonny Bunny nothing but success and happiness during his adventures on the East Coast!

Three year anniversary

2012-02-13T23:07:00.001-06:00

It's strange that I'm celebrating three years this week. I honestly didn't think I would stick with my blog for very long when I created it in 2009.

But it has been incredibly fun and introduced me to some very important friends. Plus, it has given me a way to be creative and explore who I am as a person. That sounds so stupid, but I have a feeling you fellow bloggers understand exactly what I mean.

Since I am without a laptop or other recording device right now, I don't have the means to create another vlog for ya'll. Which is sad. Because seeing me in motion, unable to hide behind my eloquent words or a cheesy photographed grin, is like falling in love for the first time. And I wanted you to have that experience.

Well, I dug up a video I created for my blog's first anniversary a couple years ago. Everything I say in it still holds true and I still look the same. So, if you want to see what a dork I am in real life, press play.

Hopefully by this time next year, I'll have won the lottery and I can do something fabulous to celebrate my blog. Like, throw a giveaway where you win a trip around the world. Or, perhaps, technology will have advanced so much I could just jump out of your computer screen as a giant hologram and give you a hug. That would be cool.

Thanks for reading.

WTF, Lilo?

2012-02-11T13:38:00.001-06:00

I've gotten to the age where reality has hit. My childhood dreams of being a movie star are probably not going to come true.

Mostly because I haven't pursued acting or modeling and honestly, would rather write a witty blog post than memorize an entire script of dialogue.

But still, no paparazzi?! No million dollar mansion in Beverly Hills?! No Jake Gyllenhaal beaming next to me on the red carpet?!

Ouch.

It kind of sucks to just KNOW the fantasy is over.

Well, there are a handful of girls who are lucky enough to have my fantasy as their reality.

They are actresses. They are beautiful. They throw parties in their Malibu dream homes.

But some of them throw it all away. Like, they have everything right at their fingertips and they don't give a damn. They treat life like garbage. They focus on drugs or alcohol or sleeping with one-hit-wonders. Um, ew.

One of those starlets is Lindsay Lohan.

Remember this girl?

Let's face it, Lilo has been a fuck up for a very long time. But several years ago, her life seemed so promising.

She was beautiful. She was a great comedic and dramatic actress. She looked cute, no matter what hair color she chose for the week: red, blonde, or black.

But after years of being tabloid trash for her illegal shenanigans and sloppy drunken behavior, she has become an ugly version of herself.

Remember the rotten teeth incident? How does someone not understand the importance of brushing?!

And I'm sure you've all seen these recent photos:

She attended a charity gala last week looking haggard and washed out. She even tried to charm a businessman into buying her a $20,000 watch as a present, and he not only said no, he laughed at her. (The former charming, gorgeous Lindsay from several years ago probably would have gotten the watch from a number of guys, without even having to ask).

Why do starlets like Lindsay waste their beauty, fame, and talent? I simply cannot comprehend it.

These girls are given all the ingredients to a fabulous life and they throw it away.

What do you think?

Do you believe in reincarnation?

2012-02-08T11:27:00.001-06:00

Sometimes when I'm desperately unhappy, I try to concentrate on where it stems from.

Because most of the time, my feelings of frustration and emptiness don't directly come from the obvious reasons in my life, such as lack of money, lack of job, and loss of friendships.

There are indescribable feelings of pain I've been having for pretty much my entire life.

And the closer I look, the more I realize I simply don't feel like I belong in my generation. I feel like a stranger among people my own age. And as the years go by, I feel the distance increasing.

It's like I don't relate to anyone anymore. It's confusing.

As long as I can remember, I have always felt like I belonged to another generation. Not the glamorous 1920s, or something exotic like Cleopatra-era Egypt. But more like merely 40 years ago. It is such a strong feeling, that sometimes it overwhelms me.

I don't think my feelings are unjustified either.

When I was three years old, in 1987, an incident occurred that my parents still bring up to this day.

I used to talk incessantly about a life which didn't involve them. I told stories and spouted names that were so detailed, my parents were stunned. It got to the point, where it was all I could talk about. My parents were completely freaked out. I was like something out of a horror movie, going on and on about stuff that had happened to me, and how I missed certain people.

My parents took me to several child psychiatrists. Finally, the last one they took me to gave them an explanation that the others had been too embarrassed to bring up: reincarnation. He told my parents that he truly believed I was remembering incidents and people from my past life.

Well, when I turned four, my stories started to dwindle. And by the time I reached five, they were gone.

And now, while I remember tossing and turning in bed, at three years old, remembering things with clarity, I don't remember what they were. I don't remember incidents, or places, or faces, or names.

The stories my parents repeat to me now, don't mean anything to me anymore. They don't jog any memory or feeling.

I will most likely never know what I had been talking about.

But sometimes when I'm walking outside, and the sky is a dreary gray, and the wind is blowing through my hair, and all the elements add up, my heart does a little jump. I feel a sharp tinge of nostalgia.

And then I'm left feeling alone.

Life, interrupted.

2012-02-05T16:23:00.030-06:00

I was at work, typing up a feature story, when the news broke three years ago. A friend texted me the rumor and we both feverishly scoured the internet, hoping it wasn't true.

But before I knew it, the newsroom was buzzing with shock and sadness. Someone turned the television on. And that was it.

Heath Ledger was dead.

I like to do something I fear. I like to set up obstacles and defeat them.

When anything is blocking my head or there's worry in my life, I just go sit on Mars or something and look back here at Earth. All you can see is this tiny speck. You don't see the fear. You don't see the pain. You don't see thought. It's just one solid speck. Then nothing really matters. It just doesn't.

In this industry, interest in you comes in waves, it's so tidal. And so I don't really want to jump on the first wave that comes along.

I only do this because I'm having fun. The day I stop having fun, I'll just walk away.

I learned respect for women, and patience. You grow up with all those women around you...you learn to wait your turn.

If you just be safe about the choices you make, you don't grow.

I still find it personally disappointing that people kind of go out of their way to voice their disgust or their opinions against the ways in which two people choose to love one another. I think that's really unfortunate.

There are no rules and there is no rulebook.

Having a child changes every aspect of your life — for the better, of course. The sacrifices are large, but what you get in return is even bigger than the sacrifices you make.

I wasn't prepared to expose stories about something so special and wonderfully private that is happening in my life. I guess a part of me wishes that I'd never have to and that maybe I could protect this special time. I was dreaming.

All of this is so insignificant. In the grand scale of things, there have been so many before who have been in this position. I'm just another one. Life is so short. It's like we're already gone, really, in retrospect.

Super Bowels Sunday

2012-02-03T11:08:00.020-06:00

It's that time of year again, where millions of people in the United States turn a football game into a national holiday.

We drink beer. Laugh at stupid commercials.

And the food. Oh god, the food.

Well, believe it or not, some people take Super Bowl food too freaking far. Like, they don't realize the difference between pigging out and genuinely eating like a pig, on a farm.

Here are ten horrifyingly REAL Super Bowl foods that will make you squirm.

Frank's hot sauce and chicken cake, with a blue cheese butter cream frosting. If you ever want to know what it's like to eat out of a dumpster, making this recipe is your chance.

Cheeto marshmallow treats. I'm not kidding.

Can't decide between pizza and burgers this Super Bowl Sunday?

Yes, this is a mug made out of bacon, filled with cheddar cheese. No, I don't have any explanation for it.

Hoping to cash in on the garbage-can food movement, Betty Crocker created a recipe for bacon and beer mancakes, which are basically pancakes made out of...well, yeah.

For some reason, the recipe for peanut butter and jelly chicken wings is immensely popular this time of year. And, of course, don't forget the Frank's hot sauce to go with it. Otherwise you're a pussy.

As if White Castle burgers weren't disgusting enough, the company had to create a White Castle dip recipe, which can be found on their website. (I'm not linking it. I refuse.) It calls for ten White Castle burgers, a bucket of cream cheese, a tub of mustard, and onions. Bon appetit!

Bacon inside of sausage. I'm a meat lover, but even looking at this photo makes me cringe. I feel like it needs to be poked with a stick, before consumption, just to make sure, you know, it's not still alive.

What's sad is that a person actually made this sandwich salad thing. And you know it took a reaaaaaally long time.

This 35-pound creation, titled the Big Dirty Manningwich, is a sandwich consisting of brisket, pulled pork, sloppy joe, bacon, and clam chowder. Perhaps you would like a keg of beer to help wash it down? I thought not.

What do you think of these Super Bowl food disasters? Would you make any of them?!

Update on the Fabulousness

2012-02-01T18:38:00.002-06:00

I haven't done a personal post in a while, so I figured I should let you know how I'm doing and whatnot.

I'm always stunned when I realize that some of you actually give a damn about my well-being.

This past month has been okay. Life isn't perfect, but I'm not as unhappy as I used to be. I actually discovered an unpublished post I had written three months ago, titled "I'm losing my mind." It was a bad time.

The only real unhappiness I have right now is my weight. I desperately want to lose twenty pounds, not just because of my appearance, but because of my health. My weight is actually making me sick now.

I'm horrified to say that in the past year, I have actually gained ten pounds while trying to lose ten pounds. I'm not sure why. I honestly do not have a bad diet. I rarely eat sweets. Most of my meals contain vegetables and meat. I do not eat junk food. It's quite the mystery and it makes me sad. I also had been walking every single day and doing zumba three times a week, but when I realized that I was packing on the pounds, rather than shedding them, I got so depressed that I stopped being active all together. I just gave up.

Now I'm even thinking so far as to get diet pills.

I do not have a full-time job yet, but I'm freelancing for my old newspaper and helping my dad out at the hospital on weekends. But it barely pays the bills and I haven't been shopping in months. I just have to take it one day at a time.

I'm still with my boyfriend, who I think I mention on here occasionally. We've been dating for five years now, although we still haven't celebrated our milestone anniversary, due to lack of funds.

Shit this all sounds depressing, doesn't it?

But I'm seriously okay. I'll make it, I think.

Thanks for caring.

Why I Don't Use Twitter

2012-01-31T14:15:00.001-06:00

As my twenties go by, the biggest lesson in life I have learned is that time fucking FLIES.

You quickly discover that days are incredibly short. An hour? It feels like a minute. It's a frightening feeling to wake up one morning and realize there is simply not enough time in the day to do all the things you want to do.

And my generation is the guinea pig of this life discovery, mixed in with the revolution of the Internet.

Because not only does time fly for us in real life, it shoots by us from all angles in the virtual world. It's mind-boggling.

My head is racing all day. I have so many thoughts and so many to-do lists and so many ideas stored in my head, dangerously brewing together, creating a time bomb.

It is for this reason alone that I simply cannot handle twitter.

Most of you know that you can't go to twitter for 30 seconds without the entire page refreshing, with new tweets. Time defies physics in Twitterland, because it literally does go faster. News is more than instantaneous. It's already five seconds behind you.

I'm going to sound really mean right now and I don't care. But I think the worst thing about twitter is not that it's too much news, too fast. It is simply too much brain shit too fast.

People go on Twitter because they think people truly care that they're eating a salad for lunch. For some reason, they want the entire world to know that they're sitting at the Most Boring Stoplight In The World. And they tweet this crap ALL DAY LONG. It clogs my newsfeed, filtering out the actual news.

It is human nature to feel we are the center of the world. We crave attention. We are born egotistical. But believe it or not, the world does not revolve around you. Twitter dangerously feeds people this unrealistic idea though.

Instead of actually living life, there are millions of people who spend practically every minute of every day tweeting about it to other people, who in turn are tweeting their life to them. It's a never-ending cycle of people who want attention requesting it from other people who want attention.

It's too exhausting and ridiculous for me to handle.

So, I stay away from my twitter page. I get news alerts on my phone, so I'm properly updated when a famous person unexpectedly dies or if a natural disaster has created chaos. I can see status updates on Facebook, to inform me of my friends' important life events. I have my blog, so I can milk my ego, without forcing it on the world every five seconds.

Of course, I still have my twitter page. If it's the easiest way for you to contact me, use it. I'll get an e-mail telling me to go there. That's not a big deal. That's pretty much all I use twitter for anyway.

But don't expect me to give a damn about your salad.

I don't have time for that shit.

Starla Halfmann

2012-01-28T15:30:00.001-06:00

I was pinteresting around the other day, when I came across an illustration that took my breath away.

And I'm not saying that lightly.

The painting is called A Copious Season.

It was created by Starla Halfmann, a well-known artist residing in Austin, Texas.

I was drawn to not only the beauty of the peacock and the avalanche of visually delicious colors, but the idea of what it represents (to me). It struck me that no matter how small we are, or how insignificant we feel, we're always showering people with more than we think. Each one of us has an overwhelming aura of love and friendship and kindness to those who love us, even if we don't realize it.

Does that make sense?

Of course, that is merely my interpretation of the painting. Art is beautiful in its way to have a different message to everyone.

I simply had to check out Starla's other paintings and I was not disappointed.

(My first reaction was that her work has a hint of Gustav Klimt, so I was very pleased upon my research to discover that the Austrian painter was indeed one of her influences.)

Stunning, aren't they? It would be a dream to decorate the walls of my apartment with at least ONE of these gorgeous creations.

If you love her work, you should check out her website.

What do you think?

Jenny's Mouthwash

2012-01-27T08:52:00.004-06:00

Wanna see some weird-ass old television commercials?

They're high-lar-ious.

Click on the link to see my guest post:

http://ambersmouthwash.blogspot.com/2012/01/jennys-mouthwash-wtf-commercials.html

Sex, chains, & religion

2012-01-24T13:50:00.002-06:00

Is it rape if a guy says no to a woman, but his body says yes?

That is the million dollar question in a recent documentary I saw, Tabloid.

The documentary is based on an international scandal that rocked the world 30 years ago. It involves sex, religion, and chains. It was a dream-come-true for the tabloids in 1977.

The story revolves around Joyce McKinney, a beauty queen from Wyoming, who paints herself as a sugary sweet virgin. The blonde-haired, blue-eyed doll fell in love with Kirk Anderson, an all-American boy from Salt Lake City. He was Mormon.

Joyce claims that Kirk's family and friends despised her because she was not Mormon and because she was too pretty. So, after the couple became engaged, Joyce said his church made him disappear. She woke up one day and he was nowhere to be found! And nobody would tell her anything!

Joyce was devastated and hired a private investigator to hunt him down. The detective discovered Kirk had been sent to England by his church, on a missionary trip.

Joyce flew to England and said she coaxed a "brainwashed Kirk" into her car and the two shared a wonderful, romantic weekend in a rented cottage in Devon. She said it was the best three days of her life. But then Kirk left her, scared his church would find out, breaking her heart once more.

Well, Kirk had a different story.

After their three days together, Kirk immediately went to the police and told them an astonishing tale.

A frazzled Kirk told police that Joyce had abducted him at the church. He said she had taken him to the cottage, where she chained him to a bed, spread-eagle, and raped him for three days straight.

Evidence suggested the distraught Kirk was telling the truth, and the police arrested Joyce, even though she adamantly denied the charges. Frustrated by her treatment, Joyce jumped bail and fled the country with a friend.

Tabloids all over the world relished in the absurd sexual tale. They dubbed the incident the "The Case of the Manacled Mormon." The gossip rags competed vigorously to see who could come up with the most dirt about the apple pie blonde from America.

It was discovered that Joyce was not as sweet and virginal as she had claimed to be.

There were several nude photos of Joyce circulating all over Los Angeles and details of a shady sex life started to emerge. The public was delighted.

By the early 1980s, Joyce moved back home with her parents, exhausted by the media circus and paranoid by the attention. She became a recluse, never marrying or venturing out much.

In 2008, she made international headlines again for having her beloved pet dog cloned in Korea.

The revived interest in Joyce prompted documentary filmmakers to produce Tabloid.

Today, Joyce is a real-estate agent living in the North Carolina mountains.

The magic of Erté

2012-01-19T21:05:00.001-06:00

Most of you know I have an obsession with historical fashion.

Like, I would give my left arm (or saw off somebody else's) to go back in time and rock 1950s Dior gowns, or prance around in delicious cake-inspired Marie Antoinette creations.

I'm also obsessed with anything 1920s.

When you put both of my passions together, you get Erté.

Sit down, my little pupils, and let me tell you the story of one of the most famous pioneers in fashion history.

No other fashion designer, including Chanel or Dior, had greater influence in the 20th century than Erté. His flamboyant designs defined one of the most opulent and iconic decades in history: the 1920s. Traces of his style would later go on to mold fashion in the 1960s.

Erté was born as Romain de Tirtoff in 1892 to a wealthy family in St. Petersburg, Russia. When he was five, he stunned his parents by creating his first beautiful fashion design. It was a passion that took over his life. His father expected him follow in the family footsteps and become a naval officer, but Romain had other plans.

At 18, he changed his name to Erté (to avoid disgracing the family name) and became the apprentice for famed designer Paul Poiret in Paris. In 1915, he scored an enviable contract with Harper's Bazaar to design more than 200 covers.

In the 1920s, Erté introduced the world to "art-deco," a style illustrating the elegance, sophistication, and playfulness of the jazz age.

His fashion designs were in high demand from the biggest Broadway stars and Hollywood movie stars of the decade. He pieced together glitzy, sexy little showgirl costumes for the Ziegfeld Follies. He spent hours inspecting every detail of the glamorous, extravagant gowns created for films.

Erté's designs were deliciously exotic and outrageously impractical, which delighted both the working-class girls who worshipped his dresses from afar and the lavishly wealthy women who could afford to make him rich.

His gowns were painstakingly hand-made with beads, fur trim, lace, sheer draperies, leather, and glittering embroidery.

By World War II, however, the lust for his extravagance diminished, as society grew more practical. But his career revived in the 1960s.

Erté's designs can be found at the most famous art museums in the world.

The famous fashion designer died in 1990, at the age of 97.

Today, everyone from Anna Wintour to Karl Lagerfeld hails Erté as one of the most important figures in fashion history.

What do you think of his designs?

Weekend with Julie

2012-01-18T12:55:00.002-06:00

This past weekend, I was lucky enough to have my high school, college, and fellow blogging buddy Julie visit me from Ohio!

We had not seen each other in ten years! Isn't that crazy?!

When Julie got here, we had a girls day out with pizza and manicures and coffee. We also had a girls night out with our mutual friend Maryam.

It was spectacular fun! We went to eight different night clubs and bars around the city. Our favorite part of the night was downing spiced pear shots. They tasted like apple pie! Yum!

Another day, we went shopping with my friend Jonathon.

And then we went to the park and looked at the ducks, who were walking on icy ponds.

And then we spent the rest of the day at the art museum.

Oh, and we had a Golden Globes party later that night, of course. We loved admiring all the red carpet dresses (and making fun of some of them, haha!).

I was really sad to see her go home.

If you get a chance, make sure you check out Julie's blog. She offers delicious recipes, recaps about her awesome life, and normally chronicles her adventures as a runner (although she's been on hiatus recently due to doctor's orders).

"I'm melting!"

2012-01-17T01:52:00.002-06:00

Have you seen The Wizard of Oz? If so, you probably remember the satisfying scene where the Wicked Witch of the West screams, "I'm melting!", while turning into a sizzling green puddle on the ground.

Well folks, it looks like the same thing is happening to our generation's own Wicked Witch this year.

And by "witch" I mean "Kim Kardashian."

We knew this day would arrive. It was inevitable.

After all, there is only so much of a fake plastic obnoxious bitch that one can take. I'm just surprised it took this long.

You see, the world's vulgar obsession with the Kardashian clan is rapidly diminishing.

According to ABC News, the NY Daily News, and the New York Post, anything featuring the Kardashians is "absolutely toxic."

Ratings for their television show "Keeping up with the Kardashians" has plummeted and circulation for gossip magazines (US Weekly, In Touch, People, etc.) that feature the sisters on their covers have dropped by 18 % in a month.

Plus, party promoters and Hollywood publicists have recently vocalized that the raven-haired reality show stars are no longer welcome at hot social functions. Kim Kardashian used to be paid up to $600,000 to attend a party. Not anymore! In fact, one club owner admitted to the Post that he would pay $600,000 for Kim NOT to attend. That's how poisonous she would be to his club's reputation.

Oh, and did you know more than half a million Americans have already signed a petition to boycott Kim? I couldn't be more proud.

I'm delighted with this news, because I have despised Kim Kardashian for years.

Her plastic face frightens me. Her attitude is repulsive to me. Her claim to fame is a joke. She is a self-absorbed, ditsy, shallow, and immature 31-year-old woman who has no business being admired.

I'm sorry if my words offend any of you, but this is my opinion, and I'm so pleased there are several people out there who share it.

One of my wishes for 2012 was to see Kim's face gone from the newsstands and television screens. It looks like my wish is coming true.

(Obviously, I'm not helping by giving her publicity here on this blog right now, but whatever).

I think Kim needs a healthy, humbling dose of real reality this year. She needs to find a real job (or a real husband who can support her expensive habits).

Poof, be gone!

Nina Dobrev's Red Carpet Style

2012-01-12T01:45:00.001-06:00

As most of you know, one of my favorite television shows is The Vampire Diaries.

It is, quite simply, one of the most addictive and delicious shows in history. Yes, it's that good.

So, I was pretty delighted last night when I noticed my ultimate girl crush, Nina Dobrev, stole the show at the People's Choice Awards. I really loved her adorable green dress with lace sleeves.

It occurred to me that Nina has never disappointed me on the red carpet. She always looks stunningly gorgeous and absolutely flawless.

Here are several of my favorite red carpet looks she's rocked:

What do you think of Nina's red carpet style?

The WORST movies I've ever seen!

2012-01-10T12:53:00.003-06:00

Over the past week, I have reviewed a couple films that I absolutely adored.

Now, I'm going to share five films I've seen in the past year that have made me shudder. They are the worst movies I have ever seen, whether by accident or complete misjudgement on my part. And when you read my categorized descriptions, you will see why.

Enjoy!

Trog

In a nutshell: Joan Crawford says the word "sperm."

Premise: An anthropologist discovers a half-man, half-ape, who miraculously survived the Ice Age, and she attempts to domesticate him, much to the grief of local authorities.

Favorite quote: "You know what they'll say? They'll say that Trog has a very nasty temper. But what can you expect from a slimy beast? Go ahead, missing link -- if that's what you are you should be missing. You bloody monster!"

Additional thoughts: As a huge fan of the legendary Hollywood glamour queen Joan Crawford, I am appalled and dismayed that this poor-quality, laughable science-fiction film was her last job as an actress.

The Day of the Triffids (1981)

In a nutshell: Giant rhubarb attacks blind people.

Premise: In this 1981 BBC mini-series, a comet blinds everyone in the world and large carnivorous plants go on a human killing spree. Bill and Jo, two soulmates who find each other amidst the chaos, are among the very few humans left who still have sight. It is up to them to save the world!

Adaptations: This mini-series is actually one of several adaptations of the 1951 best-selling science fiction novel, of the same name. There is a 1962 film, a 2009 mini-series (co-starring Vanessa Redgrave and Jason Priestly, of all odd combinations), and an upcoming film version rumored to be directed by Spiderman box-office sensation, Sam Raimi.

Additional thoughts: If you have a soft spot for terrible special effects, cheesy dialogue, and unbelievable romantic chemistry, this mini-series will not disappoint.

Zardoz

In a nutshell: Sean Connery wears a red leather thong in a futuristic land.

Premise: In the future, Earth has two distinct social classes: barbarians who live in slave-like conditions, and psychic geniuses, who control everything. Zed (a barbarian) crosses over into the other world, discovering secrets which could destroy it.

Sex Ed: The beautiful actress Charlotte Rampling has a random, lengthy monologue about penises.

Additional thoughts: Sean Connery's plethora of body hair practically creates a second main character in the film.

Malibu High

In a nutshell: When good girls go bad.

Premise: A high school senior gets dumped by her boyfriend and she becomes so unhappy, her grades start to suffer. Naturally, the only solution to raising her grade point average is to seduce her male teachers. Which, of course, leads to drug addiction and prostitution. The only logical conclusion is for her to become an assassin for a kingpin mob boss.

Soft-core porn: There is nudity. And it's the 70s. So, in other words, it's kind of a disgusting mess.

Additional thoughts: I bought this VHS movie at a garage sale for 25 cents, thinking it was going to be a cute, thoughtless teen comedy. The box had no description to tell me otherwise. Needless to say, I was horrified when I eventually watched it.

They Saved Hitler's Brain

In a nutshell: Film student footage added to a really bad movie.

Premise: After World War II, Nazis hide Adolf Hitler's head in a remote South American country, so they can resurrect the Third Reich for the future.

Bad editing: In 1969, UCLA film students were asked to shoot additional footage for a science fiction movie which had been filmed a decade earlier. Filmmakers then fused the student footage with the professional footage, to create this film. Unfortunately, the student footage is not only excruciatingly terrible, but it doesn't match up with the older film footage AT ALL.

Additional thoughts: Despite its poor quality and incomprehensible plot, the film has achieved cult status, especially to the producers of The Simpsons. The animated television show mercilessly mocks this film throughout various episodes.

Have you seen any of these?!

Jonny, me, & The Artist

2012-01-09T09:54:00.002-06:00

My Jonny Bunny is here for a couple weeks! It has definitely raised my happy level by quite a few points. :)

Over the weekend, we went on a fabulous date. We dined at our favorite Middle Eastern restaurant, caught a movie at a historical theater, and then went back to his dad's house for martinis. It was lovely.

The movie we saw was The Artist. And I highly recommend you all see it, because it is spectacular!

The Artist is a 2011 French silent film, which takes place in 1927. It is one of the most breathtakingly beautiful and heartfelt romantic comedies I have ever seen.

The supremely delicious Jean Dujardin plays George Valentin, who is a dashing, sexy, and comedic silent film star in Hollywood.

The stunningly gorgeous Bérénice Bejo plays Peppy Miller, a struggling actress with a heart of gold.

The two accidentally meet and form a special bond that proves to be beneficial to both of them throughout the years.

The acting in this movie by both main stars is admirable. Words are not needed to read the emotions their faces accurately convey. Another notable performance is by John Goodman, who plays a movie director.

And since most of you already know about my unhealthy obsession with the 1920s, what review of mine would be complete without gushing over the wardrobe?! The flapper-esque 1920s style outfits Peppy Miller parades in throughout the film are quite delicious!

The music throughout the film is also divine, adding just as much depth to the plot as the acting.

Overall, The Artist is a gem. I can honestly say it is one of my favorite movies of all time. It is just that good. I hope you will see it.

Callas Forever

2012-01-06T11:30:00.002-06:00

I love Jeremy Irons. Maria Callas is one of the most fabulous icons in history.

So, I was pretty delighted when my long-time blogging buddy Rachel, over at Da Paura, asked me to review a favorite film of hers, Callas Forever.

The 2002 film focuses on the last days of the beautiful, stylish, and famed opera singer, Maria Callas during the 1970s.

The 53-year-old is struggling with depression and the loss of her iconic voice, but an old friend (Jeremy Irons) tries to bring her success back to life, with the use of new technology and lip-syncing.

European movie star Fanny Ardant is the gem of this film. Her stunning beauty and elegant demeanor bring a middle-aged Maria to life on screen, in the most flattering way possible. She conveys the emotionally distressed opera singer superbly, with as much grace and heartache as she could muster. It is a heart-wrenching performance.

I hate to say it, but Fanny definitely over-shadowed my beloved Jeremy Irons in the film. As the flamboyantly gay music promoter Larry, Jeremy is a little wooden in his performance. But this may be simply because I'm more critical of him, as he is one of my most favorite actors.

No amount of acting in this film, however, could take my eyes off the main star: the fashion. Fanny's wardrobe was entirely provided by Chanel for the film. Her outfits were spectacularly delicious. It is a lustful sight for any fashionista, whether you like the film or not.

Overall, I think Callas Forever is a great watch. It offers an interesting glimpse into the life of a legend who is not very well known today.

The only complaint I have is that this film left me wanting more. Not more of the film, but more of Maria Callas.

I didn't know much about Maria before watching the film, and now I am dying to know her entire life story. I want to buy recordings of her music. I want to pour over photos of the Chanel-clad diva. I want the entire experience.

So, immediately after seeing the film, I ordered a biography of the gorgeous opera singer online. I can't wait to start reading it!

I definitely recommend Callas Forever. Thank you Rachel for the excellent suggestion!

That Dapper Gent

2012-01-05T08:35:00.003-06:00

There is nothing sexier than a classy gentleman. A suave, clean-shaven man, in a crisp expensive suit, who treats you like a princess and isn't afraid to be a goofball.

He is every woman's Mr. Right. Am I right?

Do your job and demand your compensation - but in that order.

I suddenly found my articulate self in a dazzling land of smiling, jostling people wearing and not wearing all sorts of costumes and doing all sorts of clever things. And that's when I knew! What other life could there be but that of an actor?

It takes 500 small details to add up to one favorable impression.

Everyone wants to be Cary Grant. Even I want to be Cary Grant.

The most difficult thing is to be yourself - especially when you know it`s going to be seen immediately by 300 million people.

I think that making love is the best form of exercise.

Ah, beware of snobbery; it is the unwelcome recognition of one's own past failings.

Mostly, we have manufactured ladies -- with the exception of Ingrid, Grace, Deborah and Audrey.

It`s important to know where you've come from so that you can know where you're going. I probably chose my profession because I was seeking approval, adulation, admiration and affection.

Everyone tells me I've had such an interesting life, but sometimes I think it's been nothing but stomach disturbances and self-concern.

If I had known then what I know now, if I had not been so utterly stupid, I would have had a hundred children and I would have built a ranch to keep them on.

Dear Jennifer

2012-01-03T15:05:00.002-06:00

I don't want to sound like a conceited bitch, but I know everything.

...Or, at least, I think I do. This confidence I exude gives people the belief that I know what I'm talking about. So, it makes them comfortable in confiding in me or asking me very serious questions, to which I am clearly the only person who can help.

Google knows this.

Every single day, hundreds of people are referred to my blog from Google, after asking the most random and profound questions in the search box. And only I can help them.

Call me a professor of bottomless wisdom, if you may.

Here is a batch of questions or statements which have brought people to my blog recently:

Is the war on heaven really over?

Google referred this lost soul to my review on Confessions of a Shopaholic. I can only assume this person found exactly what they were looking for in my poetic words about the endearing spending habits of Becky Bloomwood.

My boyfriend is gay and I'm not sure what to do about it.

It's over, sweetie. There is nothing you can do about it.

I think I might be gay and do I tell my parents?

First, make sure you're certain. There should be no "might be" about it. And yes, if you are gay, you probably should tell your family. Otherwise your life is going to get extremely complicated and incredibly miserable.

I know you're thinking of me when you're fucking her

Hmmm...

Lesbian bitches kissing each other

I don't promote porn of any kind on this blog, but if you are looking for some high-quality films in which females lock lips, I highly suggest the following: Black Swan, Mulholland Dr., and Vicky Cristina Barcelona.

Sexy fat girl

Sigh. Yes, that would be me.

Why are Indian girls so hot?

Because we were born that way, baby.

How to be a hipster

The steps are quite easy.

1. Move to Portland.

2. Buy your entire wardrobe at Urban Outfitters, but tell people you only go thrifting.

3. Only listen to new, indie music that nobody else has heard of and then tell people you liked the band BEFORE they went mainstream.

4. Go vegan.

5. Own everything that Apple has ever made.

6. Only be seen at local coffee shops because Starbucks is corporate and therefore against everything you represent.

7. Did I mention owning everything Apple ever made?

8. NEVER call yourself a hipster. Or you will get your ass kicked.

Who is Anne Hathaway's boyfriend?

Anne is currently engaged to Adam Shulman, an actor and jewelry designer.

What is the fax Phil Collins sent to his last wife?

I'm sorry, but if I told you, I would have to kill you.

Who is Jonny Fabulous?

I want to marry Morrissey.

You and me both, honey. You and me both.

Will Swedish girls find me attractive?

If you have to ask, then probably not.

I wish I was Jennifer Fabulous

That's right, bitches. You all wish you could be me.

Any more questions?

The Forgotten Sex Symbol

2012-01-01T22:35:00.001-06:00

Happy New Year, everyone!

Lately, a lot of websites have been talking about the greatest "this" and "that" from 2011. Last year brought us several shocking news stories that shook the world. It was pretty eventful.

One of the news stories which rattled me was on a smaller scale. It was a story which brought my biggest fear to life before my eyes.

As an only child, I grew up with the fear that I would one day end up completely alone. This thought haunts me, constantly. I know it's silly, because I'll probably end up getting married and having kids one day. And lord knows, I'll always have a friend or two in my life. But, still. The thought lingers.

From April, you may remember the story of Yvette Vickers.

She was the elderly woman found decomposed in her Beverly Hills home. Neighbors had become extremely concerned when they noticed mail piling up on her porch and spiderwebs in her doorway. They had not seen her in a long time.

When her neighbors finally entered her bedroom, they discovered her rotted body. She had been dead for almost a year, and nobody had even noticed. Her heater and computer were even still on, untouched.

I think what shocked the world the most was that this decomposed, forgotten old lady was once the sexiest starlet in Hollywood.

Yvette Vickers had been a Playboy centerfold. She was also the star of some of the most memorable low-budget horror films of the 1950s.

Yvette was born in Kansas City to a jazz saxophonist and his wife. They moved to Los Angeles when she was a little girl.

At 16, Yvette entered UCLA to study journalism, but got distracted by the glittering lights of Hollywood.

She shot to fame in 1954, when she was cast as the White Rain girl in a national shampoo commercial.

In the mid-50s, she started doing films, but it wasn't until her supporting role in the cult-classic, Attack of the 50-Foot Woman, that people started to take serious notice.

The blue-eyed starlet would go on to star in other low-budget horror films, most notably Attack of the Giant Leeches.

Her popularity with men was so high, she became Playmate of the Month with a very sexy spread for Playboy in 1959.

As the new It Girl in Hollywood, she went on to have scandalous affairs with several Hollywood insiders, including Cary Grant. She would remain close friends with the legendary movie star until his death.

But in the late 1970s, the only child dutifully took a break from her career to care for her ailing parents.

In the late 1980s, Yvette released a jazz album, much to the delight of her fans. She also started working on her memoirs.

After a couple of divorces and several failed romances, the now overweight alcoholic became a recluse. She rarely ventured out of her home and she had very few friends. So few, in fact, that they didn't even notice when she stopped returning their calls or e-mails after a year.

And as you know, she was found dead in her home in April. She had died some time in 2010, of heart failure.

Staring at these photos of the vivacious blonde, I simply can't believe she suffered such a dismal demise. It's chilling to think that a girl who was so full of life and so intensely adored at one point, could be utterly alone only a few decades later.

Isn't that sad?

Jenny's Mouthwash

2011-12-30T10:57:00.001-06:00

I pour my heart out for you here:

http://ambersmouthwash.blogspot.com/2011/12/jennys-mouthwash-goodbye-kid.html

Random Shit

2011-12-28T23:51:00.001-06:00

Thanks for the Merry Christmases and Happy Birthdays.

I wish I could say things are better.

But life still sucks!

Yes, that's me. Courtesy of the boyfriend. And it's exactly how I feel lately. Like a floating head in a red sea of doom. I'm reeeeally hoping things are going to be better for me in the new year. But I've said that twice already on this blog the past two new years, and it's become a bit of a joke statement.

Har, har.

Things will get better on this blog, at least. So that's good news, right? I actually have a list of posts just waiting to be created. The topics are endless, my time is not. Blurg.

I have a new pet. It is my first pet since Moses, the canary I had to eventually give to my mother.

Moses sang so fucking loud, it was getting out of control. Like, I would be driving into the parking lot of the apartment complex and I could hear him wailing away. And he loved to compete with Rian's guitar playing, which didn't go over well. We started putting Moses in the closet to shut him up, but that didn't work either. So my mom took him in.

Anyway, this new pet doesn't make a peep!

My friend and I share joint custody over this betta fish, Mr. Sakana. Craig had him for the summer and fall months. Now it's my shift.

Like most children from broken homes, Mr. Sakana is stressed out and frustrated by the change. He swims around furiously, glaring at me and ignoring his new step-father, Rian. But that's life. We can't choose our family.

I wish I had more exciting news to share. Or, at least something way cooler than bragging about a fish.

Oh well.

I hope you're having a good week!

12/27

2011-12-27T00:50:00.001-06:00

Today is my birthday.

I'm physically tired, emotionally exhausted, and immensely stressed out.

Rian gave me sparkly pink sapphire and diamond earrings. It helped ease the pain.

Now if I could sleep for a week and lose 20 pounds and win the lottery, my life would be perfect.

Happy Holidays

2011-12-24T00:02:00.001-06:00

Thank you for caring about me.

Merry Christmas

Remembrance

2011-12-22T11:11:00.004-06:00

My past week has been incredibly stressful and tinged with sadness.

I had two close friends attempt suicide. In one case, I was not there. In the other situation, I had a front row seat. Forgive me if I don't elaborate. It's too traumatic for me to even blog about.

The second scenario really forced me to open my eyes. I've been so consumed with my own unhappiness the past year that I had no idea someone right next to me was suffering in a different way.

And by pure coincidence, I also had two extremely important people from my university years pass away, unexpectedly.

One was a professor who catapulted my journalism career. The other was my advisor who always had my back.

My media writing professor was an extremely intimidating man. On the first day of class, he marched into the classroom draped in a black cape and wearing a scowl on his face. He yelled at us and hurled insults at anyone who so much as blinked. I was horrified. The next day, only half the class remained. The other half had dropped.

As the weeks went by, it became apparent to me that his harsh demeanor was nothing more than a dramatic act. He used to growl at me in class, but I always caught the teasing glimmer in his eyes. He spent a lot of class time voicing his disgust for Paris Hilton, who he claimed looks like a giant bird. He also bragged about sleeping with a Hollywood movie star during the 1950s, but wouldn't reveal which one. It was kind of shocking hearing such things come out of an 80-year-old man's mouth.

A year after I took the class, I was awarded a prestigious journalism scholarship out of the blue. The person who had nominated me wished to remain anonymous. I found out by accident, several years later, that this professor had been the one to nominate me for the award.

I was absolutely stunned. I always had it in the back of my mind that I would go back to my university one day and thank him. But I kept putting it off, because I just seemed too busy. I put it off too long. He died of a stroke yesterday.

My advisor was a headstrong woman, but she was kind-hearted. I had an internship at NBC for a semester. I spent 40 hours per week for six months going out with cameramen on feature stories, interviewing people and attending press conferences. I edited video and I wrote news script for the anchors. I spent most mornings making tiresome phone calls to various police stations and fire departments. It was hard work.

The manager of the station didn't like me. She was a bitter bitch who glared at me every single time I walked by. It wasn't until a week after my internship ended, that my advisor called me into her office. Apparently the manager of the NBC station had given me a C for my internship. I was stunned and incredibly hurt. How could she?! My advisor was so outraged, because she knew how hard I had worked at the station all semester, she did something she had never done before. She changed my C to an A.

Her decision saved my grade point average and allowed me to graduate with honors the following year. It was a gesture I never forgot.

She died over the weekend of a heart attack.

Sometimes people change your life in random ways. Do not take them for granted.

Peggy Hopkins Joyce

2011-12-20T16:25:00.001-06:00

You know how some of you have suggested that I write a book about the doomed starlets I've been profiling recently?

Well, if I take your advice, I've found the perfect inspiration.

Gold Digger is one of the most well-written biographies I have read in ages. It follows the life of Peggy Hopkins Joyce, an influential and much-forgotten American celebrity from the 1920s.

Peggy was the first tabloid-created celebrity in American history. (Think Anna Nicole Smith meets Kim Kardashian.) Peggy was beautiful, incredibly vain, disgustingly naive, materialistic, superficial, and shallow beyond belief.

America loved to hate her.

Peggy was born to a lower-middle class family in Virginia and obsessively dreamed of being a rich bitch since childhood.

When she was a teenager, Peggy gave the middle finger to her hometown and took off with a theatrical group, in hopes of being a star. She wanted to be a silver screen goddess, or at least find a millionaire to marry.

She ended up marrying a series of wealthy men, but it was a high-profiled divorce with her third husband during the early 1920s which made her an international tabloid sensation.

During the trial, it was revealed that Peggy lived a lifestyle most Americans couldn't even fathom. She was draped in $60,000 fur coats and wore diamonds worth millions. Her mansions and trips to Europe were laced with astounding luxury.

And her love life was scandalous enough to make even the most lecherous of men blush. A raging nymphomaniac, Peggy slept with hundreds of men, most who bought her jewels and designer clothes.

The public couldn't get enough. When the divorce was finalized, Peggy still made front page news around the globe, throughout the 1920s, for her indiscreet liasons, outrageous purchases, and fabulous fashion.

She is one of the first American celebrities to be a fashion icon, in fact. Almost every single newspaper article about her described in detail the exact outfit she was wearing. Women everywhere desperately tried to copy her glamorous style.

She was the most famous woman in the entire world.

When she wasn't busy spreading her legs for millionaires and granting interviews to an adoring media, Peggy dabbled in silent films and theater. But it got her nowhere because she had absolutely no talent.

Some of her most famous affairs include Charlie Chaplin (who described Peggy in his autobiography as being "crazy") and Walter Chrysler (the automobile legend was so obsessed with Peggy he bought her the most iconic diamond in the world).

Six of her former lovers were so distraught she dumped them, they committed suicide.

She received thousands of fan letters per day, mostly from worshipful teenage girls who adored her style and middle-aged men who begged her for one night of passion.

Unfortunately, however, the good life didn't last long for Peggy.

By the 1940s, she was getting older and a slowing metabolism took away her girlish figure. Her looks were fading. Men didn't find her appetizing anymore.

Since her beauty and youth were her meal ticket, Peggy found herself selling fur coats and diamonds to stay afloat. She was so depressed, she became an uncontrollable alcoholic.

By the late 1950s, she died of throat cancer in relative obscurity and with a modest savings.

Today, barely anyone knows she even existed.

You simply have to read this book.

Update: Fat Tabby

2011-12-16T11:15:00.003-06:00

Back in June I did a post about a fat old tabby cat.

When his owners got divorced, neither one of them wanted to keep him. They ended up dumping him into a cat rescue shelter, where he sat in a tiny cage all day, every day for almost a year.

During my daily walk, which runs past this shelter, I would always see him hunched over in his tiny cage, by the front window. It broke my heart.

Well, ladies and gents, I’m pleased to announce that the fat tabby has been adopted!

Apparently some little old lady decided he was a perfect companion and picked him up last week!

In his cage is now a kitten, who will no doubt he adopted shortly as well. (The kittens are always the first to find homes).

Well, anyway, I was really touched that this tabby got adopted during the holiday season. Perhaps it was a Christmas miracle?

I hope he’s happy!

Hollywood Double Vision

2011-12-14T13:22:00.003-06:00

I normally don't have a difficult time telling people apart.

But there are celebrities who I swear are the same person. Or, at least, are long-lost twins, separated at birth.

Allow me to show you the following:

Zooey Deschanel and Katy Perry

Before our favorite lip-locking pop star went blonde, she was the splitting image of the quirky, adorable Zooey. For more than a year, I honestly could not tell these two women apart.

Katy is on the left, Zooey on the right.

Zooey

Katy

Are they not related?!

Isla Fisher and Amy Adams

Two gorgeous redheads and one very similar face.

Isla is on the left and Amy is on the right.

Our favorite Shopaholic

Her ravishing Oscar-nominated twin

Seriously. What the fuck.

Daniel Radcliffe and Elijah Wood

One is a hobbit and the other is a wizard. Go figure. The Harry Potter star has admitted in several interviews that he often gets mistaken for the Lord of the Rings star, who is eight years his senior.

Harry on left, Frodo on right

Elijah

Daniel

They totally need to play brothers in a movie or something.

What do you think of these celebrity twins? Am I right? Are there other celebrity twins I am missing?

Shabby Apple Giveaway Winner

2011-12-13T22:50:00.005-06:00

The winner of my Shabby Apple skirt giveaway is...

...another fabulous Jennifer! More specifically, the lovely lady behind love jenny xoxo.

Congrats on winning the Humboldt Current Skirt!

You will be receiving an e-mail from me shortly, Jenny.

Lily Collins

2011-12-12T18:10:00.008-06:00

Over the weekend, I watched the thriller, Abduction, starring the delicious Taylor Lautner. I instantly became mesmerized with his gorgeous co-star, Lily Collins.

Lily, 22, is the American-raised daughter of soft rock superstar, Phil Collins. No offense to the little bald British music man, but his second wife, Lily's mother, must have been a knockout.

With her flowing chocolate brown locks and thickly sculpted eyebrows, Lily reminds me of a modern Brooke Shields. (Although the media has crowned her the next Audrey Hepburn).

Some of you may remember Lily as playing Sandra Bullock's teenage daughter in The Blind Side a couple years ago.

She also stars as Snow White in the much-anticipated Mirror, Mirror. Her co-star in that fairytale is another Hollywood movie queen, Julia Roberts.

Lily has been acting since she was two years old. Her parents divorced when she was five, and her American mother brought her to Los Angeles, where she was trained at the Youth Academy for Dramatic Arts.

But acting isn't her only passion.

The delicate beauty is also a journalist. As a teen, she wrote a column for Elle Girl, called "NY Confidential." She also wrote articles for Seventeen, Teen Vogue, and the Los Angeles Times magazines.

She majored in Broadcast Journalism at the University of Southern California.

Here are some photos of Lily from the upcoming Mirror, Mirror.

So, what do you think of Lily Collins?

Shabby Apple Giveaway Reminder!

2011-12-10T09:08:00.002-06:00

If you're a US resident, don't forget to check out my Shabby Apple giveaway, to win this skirt!

You know you're a fashion blogger if...

2011-12-08T10:09:00.001-06:00

15. You have a boyfriend, husband, or mother who is sick of taking your photo.

14. You know what color-blocking means.

13. Almost every single clothing item or accessory you own has been displayed on the internet, at least once.

12. "Fabulous" and "gorgeous" and "amazing" are the most commonly used words in your vocabulary.

11. You accidentally sign an e-mail with “xoxo”… to your boss.

10. You know what random girls around the world have been wearing every single day for two years, but you still don’t know their last names.

9. You don’t think #10 is weird.

8. You have lied and said you liked a blogger’s outfit, even though you thought it was crap.

7. You have kindly written “nice post!” on someone’s blog even though the post was written in foreign language, and pretty much could have been political propaganda demanding you to join the Communist Party.

6. You are personally insulted if someone stops following you, and then you spend too much time trying to figure out who it was and why they left.

5. Most of your followers are girls under the age of 25.

4. You display the contents of your purse to strangers. And they actually care.

3. If you ever decide to travel abroad, you most likely have at least one contact in every country.

2. You have received the same blog award, at least three times.

1. You’re smiling because you know exactly what I’m talking about.

Shabby Apple Giveaway!

2011-12-06T10:30:00.002-06:00

I am so pleased to be partnering up with Shabby Apple again for another fabulous giveaway!

Many of you probably already know that Shabby Apple is one of the best online boutiques, with a jaw-dropping array of dresses, skirts, shirts, jewelry, and much, much more! I know it's one of my favorite sites.

Here is just a glimpse of what Shabby Apple has to offer:

One of my lucky followers is going to win this adorable Humboldt Current skirt:

I'm not gonna lie, I'm pretty jealous!

This giveaway is for US residents only.

Here are the requirements:

-Must be a follower of my blog
-Must like Shabby Apple on Facebook (click here)
-Must like I Know, Right? on Facebook (click here)

This giveaway will run through Dec. 13 and the winner will be announced Dec. 14.

Good luck to everyone who enters!

Miss Piggy Fashion

2011-12-04T00:40:00.001-06:00

Thank you all for the good vibes last week. It really means a lot to me.

This weekend my spirits were temporarily raised with the new Muppets movie. It is absolutely adorable, charming, and hilarious. It really brought me back to my childhood.

The film is also a fashionista's dream-come-true. Adorned in Chanel tweed and an Anna Wintour-inspired bob, Miss Piggy plays the editor of Vogue Paris.

She steals the show's finale wearing a stunning lavender Zac Posen gown.

My friend Shane cleverly suggested that I dedicate this post to Miss Piggy, who is one of the most iconic fashionistas in history.

For almost 40 years, this glamorous Muppet movie star has been on the cover of every major magazine, sat front row at the most important fashion shows, and has almost every designer in the world wishing they could drape her in their latest creations.

She owns jaw-dropping collections of diamond jewelry, satin gloves, gorgeous wigs, and dazzling designer shoes. I have a feeling if I ever got the opportunity to see her closet, I would die.

Here is a look at some of Miss Piggy's latest looks:

What do you think of Miss Piggy's style?

Update

2011-12-02T10:37:00.002-06:00

I thought it was time I updated you all on my life.

After all, this blog started out as a personal diary and somewhere along the way I lost myself amidst all the fabulousness.

After almost two years of being rejected by every other career known to man, I was finally offered a freelancing gig at my old newspaper. So I've been very busy lately, which is good news. It's been a comfort nestling back into the familiar cradle of news reporting. I feel like this blog helped me maintain my writing skills, because I found it effortless to fall back into the swing of things.

Unfortunately, that seems to be the only positive change in my life right now. I'm facing a multitude of horrible issues, most of which I am powerless against.

I've been dreadfully ill, I'm in financial trouble, and there are literally dozens of other serious problems which have morphed themselves into a monster.

Plus, the holidays are not a particularly cheerful time of year for my family. So there's that.

On top of all my own stresses, I am dealing with the sickness of a friend. This person is in the hospital. It is a nightmare to witness.

I wish I had better things to say. I really thought 2011 was going to be my year. Clearly, I was mistaken.

I'm not particularly religious, so I don't feel comfortable asking people to "pray for me." But if you could send me good vibes, I would be grateful.

Thank you.

Celeste Holm (and her leading man)

2011-11-30T10:45:00.001-06:00

Celeste Holm's glamorous life began in Chicago, where the newlywed college student began acting in plays.

The blonde beauty was a huge success on the stage, but unfortunately, her personal life was interfering with her work. At 22, she ended up divorcing her husband and giving her two-year-old son to her parents to raise, so she could focus on her acting career.

Giving up her family helped Celeste rise to stardom. By the 1940s, Celeste was a famous Broadway star and a few years later, she began making movies.

In 1947, she won an Oscar for her role in Gentleman's Agreement. She starred in All About Eve, with Bette Davis and Marilyn Monroe. She also starred in High Society with Grace Kelly.

During that time, Celeste had three other husbands and another son.

Her oldest son, Ted Nelson, actually went on to become a legend in his own right. He is an Internet pioneer and a famous sociologist. He has won numerous prestigious awards and is highly regarded around the world. His brother, Celeste's younger son, became a successful businessman.

In 1999, Celeste's life changed forever. The 82-year-old widow was attending a fundraiser when she met Frank Basile, a dashing 36-year-old opera-singing waiter.

Frank was seriously dating another woman at the time, but he started pursuing the legendary actress on the side anyway. He even skipped shifts as a waiter to romance Celeste. He claims he was madly in love and he didn't even realize there was a 46-year age difference.

When Celeste's sons, who are 74 and 64, found out about their elderly mother's new boyfriend, they were suspicious. After all, Celeste is worth $13 million. So, they created a financial trust so Frank couldn't touch her money. But that only pissed Frank off. In 2004 on her 87th birthday, although Celeste was newly diagnosed with Alzheimer's, the couple eloped.

After they were married, Frank got into a nasty disagreement with his new stepsons over his inheritance. He wanted more than the $200,000 they offered. Eventually, he settled for inheriting one-third of Celeste's estate, upon her death.

Then, Frank and Celeste sued her two children so they could regain control of her finances. It was a five-year battle which cost them millions of dollars.

Poor 94-year-old Celeste, who is incredibly confused over the matter, as she is battling Alzheimer's, is now estranged from her two sons over the incident.

But, the Hollywood legend seems to be content with her much younger husband. He stuck by her side as she battled memory loss, a collapsed lung, hip replacements, and bleeding ulcers.

Plus, she still has drive. Just like she didn't allow motherhood to prevent her from working 70-some years ago, she's not letting her ailments prevent her from doing the same now.

Celeste recently finished filming her latest movie, College Debts, a raunchy low-budget comedy about a kid who needs to find a way to pay for acting school.

Above is a photo of Celeste with her hunky new co-star. Should Frank be jealous?!

What are your thoughts on Celeste's scandalous marriage?

Jenny's Mouthwash

2011-11-29T10:22:00.000-06:00

This may actually shock you.

http://ambersmouthwash.blogspot.com/2011/11/jennys-mouthwash-masako-mizutani.html

The nightmare never ends

2011-11-26T11:00:00.004-06:00

I might not be his biggest fan. I might not care about the music. But when I read his journals, it's like watching my own pain dance recklessly in front of a dirty mirror. And that scares me.

The duty of youth is to challenge corruption.

If it's illegal to rock and roll, then throw my ass in jail.

I'd rather be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not.

I really haven't had that exciting of a life. There are a lot of things I wish I would have done, instead of just sitting around and complaining about having a boring life. So I pretty much like to make it up. I'd rather tell a story about somebody else.

Punk is musical freedom. It's saying, doing and playing what you want. In Webster's terms, 'nirvana' means freedom from pain, suffering and the external world, and that's pretty close to my definition of punk rock.

I was looking for something a lot heavier, yet melodic at the same time. Something different from heavy metal, a different attitude.

I am not gay, although I wish I were, just to piss off homophobes.

My generation's apathy: I'm disgusted with it. I'm disgusted with my own apathy too, for being spineless and not always standing up against racism, sexism and all those other -isms the counterculture has been whining about for years.

If you're really a mean person you're going to come back as a fly and eat poop.

There's good in all of us and I think I simply love people too much, so much that it makes me feel too fucking sad.

Birds scream at the top of their lungs in horrified hellish rage every morning at daybreak to warn us all of the truth, but sadly we don't speak bird.

Wanting to be someone else is a waste of who you are.

Nobody dies a virgin. Life fucks us all.

Night of the Hunter

2011-11-22T11:50:00.001-06:00

First, I want thank all of you for the best-wishes yesterday.

I wish I could say Rian and I had some elaborate, amazing celebration, but unfortunately, lack of finances prevented us from doing so. We merely went out for dinner and a few drinks. We're saving up money to do something spectacular six months from now.

We did, however, cozy up on the couch and watch a fantastic movie.

Rian's friend, who is a film professor at a local university, suggested Night of the Hunter to us.

This 1955 sadistic fairytale is way ahead of its time. It focuses on religious hypocrisy, blind greed, and inexcusable ignorance.

Dashing cinema hunk Robert Mitchum plays the psychotic preacher Harry Powell. During a prison stint, he bunks with a bank robber, who is rumored to have stashed $10,000 somewhere. Upon his release, Harry goes to the robber's hometown and courts his grieving widow to obtain the money. Only her young children stand in the way between him and the fortune...

As the preacher, Robert Mitchum is without a doubt one of the most frightening villains in Hollywood history. His calm demeanor mixed with hollow, menacing eyes are enough to make your skin crawl. His haunting voice serenading the children with a sinister lullaby adds to the horror.

The film itself is a work of art. The cinematography is stunning, creating a surrealistic atmosphere. The striking symbolism sprinkled throughout the plot and the scenery make it seem almost magical.

The lighting in this film also steals the show. Shadows and moonlight are like actors in a way, setting the scene and hinting at danger. To put it simply, it is a beautiful film to watch.

I was astonished to learn that when this film came out, it was a critical failure. It was the first film of aspiring-director Charles Laughton. The reviews were so bad, Charles never directed another film again. He was so disappointed.

But 50-some years later, audiences are re-discovering the gem and calling it one of the greatest movies ever made. I believe movie-watchers in the 1950s simply were not ready for this film yet. Nothing like it had existed before. It was too creepy. The studio tried selling it as a horror-romance, when it was really a horror film about children. Which confused people.

If you enjoy old movies, crave suspense, and appreciate cinematic beauty, I highly recommend Night of the Hunter.

If you do end up watching it, let me know what you think!

Five Years

2011-11-20T22:25:00.000-06:00

Rian and I celebrated our five year anniversary this weekend.

Dorothy Parker: the smart ass

2011-11-18T14:20:00.006-06:00

I saved Dorothy Parker for last, because she's kind of my hero. I discovered her work in college, and her sharp wit and biting sarcasm paralleled my own writing style. I felt I had found a kindred spirit.

I highly suggest you purchase a copy of The Portable Dorothy Parker. It's kind of the most awesome collection of writing in the world.

Dorothy Parker was born in 1893 to a very unhappy home life in New York City. Her mother died when she was a little girl, and Dorothy grew up despising her abusive father and distant new step-mother, who she referred to as "the housekeeper."

Her formal education ended when she was 13. Seven years later her father passed away. Dorothy worked as a pianist in a dance school to earn a living, while writing poetry and prose in her spare time.

In 1917, she married a Wall Street stockbroker and she started gaining national popularity as the theater critic for Vanity Fair magazine.

She also started having regular lunches with her new journalism friends at a nearby hotel, unwittingly founding the famous Algonquin Round Table, which would grow to include actors, feminists, and comedians throughout the 1920s. Every witticism uttered at the luncheon would be splashed about in papers throughout the nation, causing each member to gain a celebrity status.

The group of friends were so tight, that when Dorothy was fired from Vanity Fair in 1920, two members of the Round Table promptly quit writing for the magazine as well, in protest.

The Round Table also helped introduce Dorothy to someone who was going to change the literary journalism scene forever: Harold Ross. He had just started publishing an unimpressive little booklet filled with short stories and human interest features. Although Dorothy figured the magazine wasn't gong anywhere, she agreed to join the staff. Harold's meager little magazine was called The New Yorker.

As the 20s went by, Dorothy attempted suicide several times. Although her career was carrying on nicely, she was depressed. Her marriage was in tatters and her life in general didn't really felt quite right. The couple eventually separated.

She laughed off her suicide attempts in her first book of poetry, Enough Rope, in 1925. It was the beginning of a fantastic literary career. Her hilarious poems about her unsuccessful romantic episodes were highly in demand. Her heart-felt short stories were published in almost every single respectable magazine. Her biting one-liners (or, tweets, as we call them today) were quoted all over the world.

By the late 1920s, Dorothy was heavily involved with political left-wing causes, such as women's rights and civil rights. She is also rumored to have had a few abortions.

In 1934, she married the bisexual screenwriter, Alan Campbell, and the pair relocated to Hollywood. They co-wrote several films together.

During World War II, she helped to co-found the Hollywood Anti-Nazi League and participated in numerous non-profit organizations which helped relocate refugees from war-struck countries.

Unfortunately, her hard work and dedication didn't pay off. During the McCarthy Era of the 1950s, the FBI labeled Dorothy a Communist because of her volunteer work for those organizations.

As a result, she was blacklisted from Hollywood. She went back to New York to write Broadway plays and book reviews for Esquire, but she had also started heavily drinking, which prevented true success from ever being hers again.

In 1963, Dorothy came home to find her husband dead from a drug-overdose. Dorothy died four years later, from a heart attack, at the age of 73.

She bequeathed her entire estate to the Martin Luther King, Jr. Foundation. When he was assassinated, her estate was passed on to the NAACP.

Edna St. Vincent Millay: the free spirit

2011-11-16T13:45:00.003-06:00

She was once the most famous person in the entire world. And now barely anyone knows she existed.

Who was Edna St. Vincent Millay?

This red-haired, green-eyed beauty was born in 1892 in Maine to a financially-strained single mother and a household of talented, artistic sisters.

When she was 20, Vincent won fourth place in a poetry contest for Renascence, a poem which made her an overnight sensation on the East coast.

When it became known the young poet was living in poverty, a wealthy fan paid her way to Vassar College.

While in school, Vincent blossomed into a bisexual bohemian, writing some of her best poems by day and discovering delicious, passionate carnal pleasure by night.

As an undergrad, she not only became the first woman to win the Pulitzer Prize for poetry, but she also published a best-selling collection of her work.

Upon graduating from Vassar, Vincent moved to Greenwich Village in New York City.

Her hippie lifestyle was almost half a century before its time. The gorgeous vixen lounged around her apartment, drinking booze and experimenting with drugs.

Dozens of men and women fell in love with her. Vincent slept with them all, but kept her heart at arm's length.

She quickly became the most famous woman in the entire world. Her poetry readings in the 1920s were more like rock concerts, with hysterical fans screaming for encores and hundreds of people desperate to catch a glimpse of the ethereal enchantress.

Every move she made was headlined in the tabloids. Millionaires around the world demanded her presence at their parties.

But it wasn't long before Vincent's dizzying glam-fest came to a screeching halt. The 20-something-year-old fell victim to alcoholism, drug addiction, and numerous embarrassing health problems, which hindered her travel and work.

Fortunately, the literary princess had a knight in shining armor waiting in the sidelines. To the shock of her friends and lovers, Vincent married Eugen Boissevain, a Dutch businessman.

The couple moved to a 435-acre dairy farm in upstate New York, which they named Steepletop. It would become the beloved home where they would spend the rest of their lives.

Instead of hindering Vincent's work, Eugen nurtured it. He allowed Vincent to retain her lovers and explore her sexuality. He desperately tried nursing her back to health from her addictions.

He simply loved her.

One year after her husband's death in 1949, Vincent tumbled down a staircase at Steepletop, breaking her neck and dying in a crumbled heap on the floor. She was only 58.

Many conspiracy theorists believe Vincent threw herself down the stairs, heartbroken over the loss of her soulmate, Eugen. Others speculated she was inebriated or had a heart attack.

Steepletop is now home to the Millay Colony for the Arts, which offers one-month residencies to visual artists, composers and writers.

My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends,
It gives a lovely light!

-First Fig, Edna St. Vincent Millay

Zelda Fitzgerald: the first flapper

2011-11-15T10:08:00.002-06:00

Zelda Fitzgerald was a spoiled brat.

Her daddy was one of the most richest and prominent men in the South, so Zelda basically got away with doing whatever she wanted.

The teenage beauty smoke, drank, stayed out with boys all night, and spoke her mind freely, much to the shock of proper society.

When future literary superstar F. Scott Fitzgerald first saw her at a dance in Montgomery, Alabama, he was a goner. So was every other guy in the room.

The flirtatious southern belle fell madly in love with Scott, who was a soldier at the time. But being the snotty princess she was, she refused to marry him until his first novel, This Side of Paradise, was released in 1920.

Their rock star marriage shook the nation.

Whatever money came out of the success of Scott's novels was used towards designer clothes and outrageous, extravagant parties.

The two lovebirds splashed drunkenly in public fountains, rode on top of taxis, passed out in busy streets, and basically got kicked out of every single respectable establishment in New York City.

Their intoxicated shenanigans amidst prohibition were splashed all over the tabloids.

“Spinach and champagne. Going back to the kitchens at the old Waldorf. Dancing on the kitchen tables, wearing the chef’s headgear. Finally, a crash and being escorted out by the house detectives.”
-Zelda Fitzgerald, describing her life in the 1920s.

The 20-something beauty had short hair, wore short dresses, powdered makeup on her face, and carelessly flung long beads over her outfits. As a result, millions of young women around the world, desperate to be as cool, followed suit. The media deemed them "flappers."

Scott chronicled their adventures in his books, basing almost every female character on his dazzling wife.

Zelda even began writing stories herself, which were excellent. But in order to sell them, she had to put her husband's byline on them, revoking her credit. The smitten wife was not bitter, however, because in the 1920s, this was simply how the world worked.

Life for the wealthy young couple was far from perfect, however.

Scott's alcoholism was spiraling out of control. He became increasingly mean to Zelda and he began sleeping around.

His hero and close friend, Ernest Hemingway, publicly despised Zelda, and told anyone who would listen that she was the downfall of her husband's brilliant career.

Desperate to escape her wretched homelife, Zelda began pursuing ballet, a hobby she enjoyed as a child. Despite being told starting a dance career in her late 20s was absurd, Zelda practiced for hours every single day and enlisted the help of famous instructors.

But even though her talent was flourishing, her mind was not.

Perhaps due to her massive unhappiness and stressful life, Zelda began slipping into uncontrollable madness.

Zelda was finally admitted into a sanitarium in Paris for schizophrenia in 1930. Although she remained married, Scott had no intention of being faithful. He moved to Hollywood and the couple never got back together.

During her stay in the mental health facility, Zelda wrote autobiographical stories and painted ballerinas as a way to ease her suffering.

Sadly, she never regained enough sanity to be released.

In 1948, Zelda was locked in a room, awaiting electroshock therapy, when her mental health facility caught fire. It started in the kitchen and made its way to every single floor, at rapid speed.

Unable to escape the locked room, Zelda perished into the flames.

Bobbed Hair and Bathtub Gin

2011-11-14T13:09:00.001-06:00

Thanks to my friend Erika, over at Cafe Fashionista, I have become a huge fan of Bobbed Hair and Bathtub Gin, a biographical view into the literary glam-fest of the 1920s.

The book focuses on four of the most prominent and fashionable female writers during that sparkling decade: Edna Ferber, Zelda Fitzgerald, Edna St. Vincent Millay, and Dorothy Parker.

If you're a huge fan of flapper fashion, extravagantly wild parties, and The Great Gatsby, this book is a delicious treat for you.

It not only tells you these women's stories, but provides an extraordinarily clear view into one of the most ritzy, fabulous decades in American history.

You simply need to read this book.

I've decided in honor of this book, I am going to feature all four of these legendary female writers on my blog.

Today, I'm going to start with Edna Ferber, the silent, stoic figure behind some of Hollywood's most iconic films and musicals.

The oldest of the four female writers featured, Edna was born to a middle-class Jewish family in 1885.

Edna started her career as a newspaper reporter in Milwaukee during the early 1920s.

Bored with her journalism career, Edna started writing novels, most of which featured strong female main characters and secondary characters who faced discrimination because of their religion or ethnicity.

Her characters were richly detailed and extremely vivid, because Edna firmly believed that the not-so-pretty people in this world often had the most interesting stories to tell.

After winning the Pulitzer Prize for the best-selling novel, So Big, Edna decided to try a different approach to novel-writing.

Like a true journalist, she decided to research her plots thoroughly, even venturing out to the scene, to experience it hands-on.

After spending four days aboard a showboat in North Carolina, Edna pieced together one of the most famous works of her career: Showboat.

Edna was aghast when she discovered Oscar Hammerstein II wanted to turn her serious novel into a Broadway musical. After all, the book's main themes involved racism and death. What was there to sing about?!

But the famous composer made it work and the musical became legendary. It's iconic song, "Ol' Man River" is still one of the most well-known Broadway songs of all time.

Over the years, most of Edna's novels were turned into a Broadway musical or feature film. One many of you may be familiar with is Giant, the Oscar-winning film starring Elizabeth Taylor and James Dean.

One of the reasons Edna may have been so successful is because the author had absolutely no distractions. She never married and is actually not known to have dated anyone, ever.

If you're interested in learning more about Edna, I would also recommend you read Edna Ferber's Hollywood, which details her long-standing collaboration with showbiz.

Photo Essay: Morgan Freeman being cooler than you.

2011-11-11T00:00:00.001-06:00

Morgan Freeman with a cat on his head.

Morgan Freeman being bromantic.

Morgan Freeman looking sad.

Morgan Freeman looking SHOCKED.

Morgan Freeman being a bad ass.

Morgan Freeman and cotton candy.

Morgan Freeman wearing a bow tie.

Morgan Freeman laughing with his famous rich friends.

Morgan Freeman 40 years ago.

Morgan Freeman and Pasta Roni.

Morgan Freeman and a dolphin.

Twilight what, bitches?

Happy 11/11/11.

My Mexican Family

2011-11-09T13:06:00.004-06:00

When I was 11-years-old, living in Tampa, I was the only girl among my friends who still had married parents.

My best friend Megan was the latest casualty of the divorce train. Her dad left her mom for a 20-something-year-old blonde named Amanda, which meant every time I spent the night at Megan's house, her wine-soaked mother would wail "fucking Amanda!" until 2 a.m., while a female friend consoled her.

When I casually mentioned this to my dad one afternoon, he was horrified.

So, my dad did what any concerned parent would do: he found me an adoptive family.

My dad wanted me to see what a real loving, stable family was like. He discovered a little Mexican family who lived behind his favorite grocery store. They were lower-middle-class, but rich with love. There was a mother and a father, who were immigrants, and their seven children, ranging from 18 to 5. There was even a daughter my age, named Christina.

For one year, my dad made me spend every single Sunday with the Perez family. And since I was brown, I fit right in!

I accompanied the family on their daily errands and adventures. We would go to the Hispanic district for odd food items, such as tongue and pork skins. We would run in dirty, littered fields, clutching bottled Coke and Tabasco-flavored Popsicles. When the van broke down, the girls and I would sit by the side of the highway and giggle about Jonathan Taylor Thomas.

As a miserable only child, I couldn't believe my luck. All of the sudden, it was like I had seven siblings! And they all adored me! They even referred to me as their sister in public, and nobody questioned it.

It was the good life.

The Perez family taught me the importance of church. Every Sunday morning, we would rush into the Spanish-speaking Catholic Church an hour late, ignoring the livid stares of parishioners and the priest. I think I even accidentally got baptized at the church, because Mr. Perez had me stand in a line where a priest threw Holy Water on me, said a bunch of stuff in Spanish, and then gave me a cross. The Perez family seemed very satisfied by the experience and kept saying "good, good" to me.

The Perez family taught me the importance of saving money. Some Sundays, Mr. Perez would buy a ticket at the movie theater and then open the emergency exit for us in the back. So the ten of us basically got to see movies for the price of one!

Their choices of movies were always odd, however. The only film I vividly remember was called Baby's Day Out, which was basically a nonsensical story about a toddler running loose in Chicago. But the Perez family loved it!

A year later, however, my dad's job got transferred to Nebraska, and we had to move. I sadly said goodbye to my Mexican family. I thought I would never see them again.

Well, four years ago, my dad took me to Orlando to see Morrissey in concert for my birthday. A couple days before the show, we decided to drive to Tampa and visit Christina, who I had recently gotten back in touch with through Facebook.

Christina, who is now ridiculously gorgeous, had us over for dinner in her new house. She updated us on her family and we were not prepared for it.

You see, three years after my family had moved to Nebraska, Mr. Perez left his wife for a beautiful coworker. The family was split apart and most of the siblings aren't talking to each other now as a result.

Christina, suffocated by her broken home, ran straight into the arms of a wealthy married man she had met in a Miami nightclub when she was 18. That man left his wife and married Christina, but then he mysteriously took off for Morocco in 2004 and never came back. But Christina didn't seem too upset with his absence, as she had already fallen in love with another man.

My dad and I sat there, listening to her talk, with our mouths open. We were in total shock.

When we left her house, my dad and I were quiet for most of the trip back to Orlando.

I felt really bad for my dad, who had had such faith in the Perez family. He truly believed the Mexican immigrants, with their family-oriented culture and Catholic morality, would survive.

"Nothing is sacred anymore," my dad finally said, sadly. "America has them now."

Party Girl Fashion

2011-11-08T10:48:00.002-06:00

Wanna be fucking fabulous?

Check out my guest post here: http://idlefascination.blogspot.com/2011/11/guest-post-party-girl-fashion.html

Love you!

Fairytale Gone Wrong: Gene Tierney

2011-11-05T16:05:00.001-05:00

Gene Tierney was born on Nov. 19, 1920 in Brooklyn, New York, to a wealthy family. She spent her childhood in boarding schools, which included a prominent finishing school in Switzerland.

During a family vacation in Los Angeles, a movie director advised the 17-year-old beauty to consider acting. Bored with high society life, Gene decided to take his advice.

After a couple years, she became the toast of Broadway. During one of her performances in 1941, Darryl F. Zanuck, the head of 20th Century Fox was in the audience. He declared her the most beautiful women in the world and demanded she sign a contract with his movie studio.

It wasn't long before Gene became a well-known movie star.

But soon her life began to unravel. She had fallen in love with Oleg Cassini, a struggling fashion designer. Her father and the movie studio warned her to stay away from the Russian, who they deemed a fortune-hunter.

But it was not Oleg who was after Gene's money.

Soon after the love-struck couple eloped in Las Vegas, Gene discovered her own father had squandered all her hard-earned money behind her back. Gene was devastated and never spoke to her father again.

If that wasn't enough, while pregnant with her first child, Gene mysteriously contracted rubella (German measles) at a nightclub. As a result, her daughter was born with severe mental retardation. Gene was heartbroken. It put a massive strain on her marriage.

Gene tried to save her marriage, but depression had overcome her. Her despair drove her straight into the arms of a young, single John F. Kennedy. But that romance fizzled, leaving Gene right back where she started.

Gene soon received news that changed her life forever. A female fan came forward and admitted a couple years before, she had snuck out of a quarantine while sick with rubella, because she had heard Gene, her favorite movie star, was going to be at a popular night club. The excited fan had hugged Gene, thus, passing along the disease, which had ultimately destroyed Gene's unborn child at the time. The fan felt awful and apologized, but it was too late.

Gene had a nervous breakdown. The shocking revelation, mixed with her failed marriage and heartbreak over her mentally retarded daughter, was too much for the young woman to handle. It became impossible for her to work anymore. The 33-year-old allowed herself to be committed to an asylum in Connecticut.

Sadly, the movie star became a victim of shock therapy, a cruel and unusual treatment used for mental patients in the 1950s. After 27 shock treatments, Gene tried to escape the asylum, but was caught.

In 1957, Gene tried to commit suicide, but was saved and sent to a mental health facility in Kansas. While she was recovering, Gene worked as a salesgirl in a department store in Topeka, which caused a media sensation when a customer recognized her.

A year after Gene was released from the institute, she married Texas oil baron, Howard Lee. She loved living in Texas and had a very happy and peaceful life with her new husband.

Unfortunately, irony was the result of her death.

When Gene had been in her early 20s, she had started smoking to make her voice lower and more seductive, because she hadn't liked the way her high-pitched voice sounded on the big screen.

In 1991, shortly before her 71st birthday, she ended up dying from the smoking-related illness, emphysema.

Pan Am Fashion

2011-11-03T09:05:00.001-05:00

One of my favorite television shows is ABC's new hit drama, Pan Am.

CIA spies. Torrid romances. Family drama.

The show has it all.

Plus, it's basically a 1960s fashion show.

Even long before the show existed, I had always been in love with the glorified Pan Am uniform, as shown here on Christina Ricci.

There is something so modestly sexy about the beautiful trademark blue suit and crisp white gloves.

Here is my polyvore interpretation:

I was delighted to discover that you can purchase an official Pan Am bag on the company's website.

The Pan Am uniform is not the only lust-worthy look on the show. When the stewardesses are off-duty, they are adorned in deliciously retro sundresses, spectacular evening gowns, and form-fitting pencil skirts.

Here are a few outfits from the show:

Below are a couple outfits I put together, inspired by the show. I hope you like them.

Do you watch Pan Am? What do you think of Pan Am style?

Jonny's website (and giveaway winner)!

2011-11-02T11:30:00.000-05:00

My bff Jonny recently launched his new website!

You can check out the website here: Jonathan Pearson.

There are lots of yummy photos of Jonny, plus even a blog where he chronicles his fabulous life and interests!

For those of you who don't know, Jonny is a professional singer and dancer down in Branson, Missouri. He is in the midst of recording and releasing a CD.

You can listen to his music here.

Oh, and if you think Jonny is fabulous, you should like him on Facebook too! If you do, make sure to say "hi." Jonny adores hearing from his fans.

And last but not least, I have the winner of my business card giveaway!

Congratulations...

Sassy Uptown Chic!!!

I will pass along your e-mail address to the sponsor!

The Impossible Cool

2011-10-31T22:40:00.002-05:00

You can have Robert Pattinson.

You can have James Franco.

You can have Justin Bieber.

They will NEVER be James Dean.

Being a good actor isn't easy. Being a man is even harder. I want to be both before I'm done.

Only the gentle are ever really strong.

I'm a serious minded and intense little devil—terribly gauche and so tense that I don't see how people can stay in the same room as me. I know I couldn't tolerate myself.

Eternity?...That is one hell of a movie.

I try so hard to make people reject me. Why?

My purpose in life does not include a hankering to charm society.

I think the prime reason for living in this world is discovery.

The gratification comes in the doing, not in the results.

I want to be a Texan 24 hours a day.

I’m not going to go through life with one arm tied behind my back. I'm playing the damn bongos and the world can go to hell.

If a man can bridge the gap between life and death, if he can live on after he's dead, then maybe he was a great man.

Top 5 Horror Films You Probably Haven't Seen

2011-10-30T17:30:00.005-05:00

There are a gazillion horror films out there. And I'm not gonna lie, I've seen most of them.

This Halloween, I'm going to be snuggling on the couch with my boyfriend and pigging out on junk food, with my eyes glued to the screen while we watch scary movies. To me, that is the perfect way to celebrate on a chilly fall night.

In honor of Halloween, I've decided to list five horror films I think you should know exist. You're not going to see The Exorcist or Scream on here, because this isn't a boring list. It's an awesome list.

Let's start, shall we?

Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956): Best classic horror film

Body Snatchers takes place in a picturesque 1950s world where martinis after work are mandatory and everybody is perfect...or are they?

The plot centers around Dr. Bennell, who returns home to discover many of his patients fear their loved ones are impostors. He decides to investigate the complaints and comes to a shocking discovery.

Not only is this an entertaining horror film, it also perfectly embodies the atmosphere 1950s America was facing at the time: fear of outsiders and fear of government repression.

Teeth (2007): Weirdest horror film

This film is about a girl with a killer pussy.

And I'm not talking about a cat.

It focuses on a coming-of-age girl who has teeth in her you-know-what.

Now, you're probably thinking Teeth is X-rated and a cheap trick. But it's not! This film is actually quite modest, given it's content, and it is a really good film. Not so-bad-it's-good, but good good!

You are just going to have to trust me. I will say no more.

Pan's Labyrinth (2006): Most beautiful horror film

This magical dark fairytale is so visually stunning, it is jaw-dropping.

The plot revolves around a young girl living in post-fascist Spain. She meets a fairy who tells her she is a princess, but in order to claim her crown, she needs to complete three gruesome tasks.

Words cannot describe how much I adore this whimsical, breathtaking horror film.

It is a must-see.

The Last House on the Left (1972): Most realistic horror film

Do not watch this movie.

I had the misfortune of not knowing what The Last House on the Left was about before I saw it. I was completely repulsed, shocked, and dismayed. When this film came out in theaters, during the early 1970s, many audience members fainted and some even had heart attacks. It is still banned in several countries to this day. It's that awful.

But I'm very serious when I say that I will not hesitate to show my teenage daughter this film one day. It is the best after-school special in the world.

Leprechaun (1993): Stupidest horror film

I'm not sure what makes this movie scarier: the cheesy dialogue or Jennifer Aniston's old nose. JUST KIDDING. Jennifer Aniston's film debut is a treat for viewers of this Irish-inspired gem.

The plot focuses around a severely unattractive and evil Leprechaun who goes on a killing spree to find his beloved pot of gold.

This movie is so bad, it's delicious. When I was in high school, my best friend Allison and I had Leprechaun sleepovers, where we stayed up all night watching all his dirty little adventures. In the sequels, the silly little fellow goes on killing sprees in "the hood," Las Vegas, New York City, and even outer space!

Will you see any of these films on Halloween night?

Business Card Giveaway!

2011-10-28T00:55:00.007-05:00

If you're a savvy blogger, you already know one of the best secret weapons to promoting your blog is a nifty set of business cards.

They are a handy and professional accessory, easily fitting into the wallets or pockets of anyone who takes one.

What better way to spread the word about your fabulous blog?

Well, I'm happy to announce that Uprinting wants to give one of my followers their very own set of business cards! These can be used to promote a blog, or for any purpose you want.

For those of you who don't know, Uprinting.com is one of the most versatile printing companies around and not only do they offer affordable business cards online, they also offer custom business cards.

Details about the prize:

-250 pcs Die Cut Business Card Printing
-2 x 3.5" Rounded Corners, 2x2" Rounded Corners, 1.75x3.5" Rounded Corners, 2x3.5" Leaf, 2x3.5 Rounded one corner, 2x3.5" Half Circle Side, 2x3.5" Oval, 2.5" Circle, 14pt Cardstock Gloss / Matte / High Gloss (UV), or 13pt Cardstock Uncoated
-6 Business Days Turnaround
-Free shipping

This giveaway is only for US residents who are 18 years old or above.

If you fit the requirements, take a look at the rules to enter:

-Must be a follower of my blog
-Leave a contact e-mail

For additional entries
-Like my Facebook page
-Like Uprinting on Facebook

The contest begins today, Oct. 28, and will end Nov. 1.

Winner will be announced Nov. 2.

Good luck!

Disclaimer: This giveaway is sponsored by Uprinting and I will not receive monetary compensation for it. I will receive business cards for hosting.

Leah (Part III)

2011-10-26T22:30:00.002-05:00

This was the last baby-sitting gig I ever had. This experience was so traumatic it was actually brought up in a therapy session I had three years after it occurred.

During my junior year in college, a new family moved across the street from my parents' house. The couple had a 12-year-old daughter, Leah, and a 6-year-old son, Chris.

The first evening I went there to babysit, the mother acted extremely nervous. I figured she was just concerned about leaving her kids with a stranger, which is understandable.

When I walked into the hallway, little Chris was standing eerily still and staring at me.

"Our last babysitter shut herself in the closet and cried," he said, solemnly.

"Why?" I asked, puzzled.

He shrugged and walked away.

Despite that odd exchange, the evening went extremely well. Chris was quiet and well-behaved. Leah was eager to please and seemed to idolize me.

"I love your hair," she would gush, touching it with envy. "And you're so pretty! I want to be pretty like you. I want to be your best friend!"

I was extremely flattered. I was also confused as to why Leah even needed a baby-sitter. At 12, she seemed awfully mature and responsible.

But then the lying started. The next weekend, Leah tried to convince me to drop her brother off at a police station because she suspected he had been kidnapped as a baby. She told me her mother had a sex-change operation and was really a man. She told me she was secretly married to a boy in her class and demanded I address her as Mrs. Anderson.

These lies irritated me and I was quick to dismiss them, which only made Leah angry.

I was also getting fed up with the way she treated her younger brother. She kept leaving Chris on my parents' doorstep at random times of the day, behind her mother's back. She also started calling him "It." She would steal food off his plate at dinner time and laugh when I caught her in the act.

One afternoon in October, I promised Leah that if she didn't tell a lie all day, I would take us all out on a bicycle trip around the neighborhood. Right before we were going to take off, Leah told me she had underwent DNA testing and discovered I was really her mother. Disgusted and not amused, I told her the bike trip was off.

Her face got dark red and twisted into a frightening, menacing scowl.

"We're going bike-riding!" she roared at me.

"No, we're not," I said, calmly.

She went into the garage and started unlocking her bike.

"Put your bike away, we're not going," I said, crossing my arms.

In one swoop, she picked up the bike and swung it across the garage, smashing the garage door. I'm not fucking kidding. It was like The Incredible Hulk or something. I was horrified.

When her parents got home, I told them I was never baby-sitting their kids again. They didn't ask questions or try to convince me otherwise. They merely nodded sadly and paid me.

A couple weeks later, Leah's mother called me, in tears. Her husband was stuck at work and she had to attend a neighborhood watch meeting. I warily agreed to watch the kids for an hour.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly. Chris was in his room, playing, and Leah was downstairs doing the laundry her mother said needed to be done. But wait...what was that noise?

With a sense of doom, I walked downstairs to the laundry room. When I entered the room, Leah was reaching to turn the dryer on. But there was a whimper coming from inside the dryer.

OH MY GOD! Leah had put her brother in the dryer! I shoved her out of the way and opened the dryer, which had just started. I grabbed her frightened, sobbing brother out of the machine.

"I wasn't going to hurt him," Leah said to me, with no emotion in her eyes.

I ignored her and ran upstairs, clutching Chris. I called their mother and before she could speak, I said, "You need to come home right this minute otherwise I am going to call the police," and I hung up.

I was so overwhelmed with shock and horror, I started crying. When their mother arrived, I spit out the situation. Before leaving, I told their mother she needed to get Leah help. Chris would have been killed, if I had not come downstairs in time.

Unfortunately, it took another incident to wake their parents up. The following Saturday, there were helicopters circling my parents' neighborhood. When I asked another neighbor about them, I was told Chris had ran away from home, because he was so scared of his sister. The police were looking for him.

They found him later that day, unharmed, and Leah got sent to a children's mental health clinic. She stayed there for six years and was released in 2010.

This past May, I ran into Leah at the grocery store. She was absolutely gorgeous, one of the most beautiful girls I had ever seen. She also seemed...normal.

She told me she's living with her boyfriend in a neighboring suburb and she's trying to find a job. She asked me if we could grab coffee sometime, but I told her I was simply too busy, which was a lie.

It just seems that being friends with her, even if she is better, would be a really bad idea.

The Montgomery Twins (Part II)

2011-10-25T15:35:00.007-05:00

I honestly don't even remember how I met Mrs. Montgomery.

But when I was a sophomore in college, word got around that I was babysitting. Almost every night I found myself bombarded with calls from desperate parents. Mrs. Montgomery was one of them. She needed someone to watch her 9-year-old twins that Saturday night.

When I first arrived at the Montgomery house, I could tell this babysitting gig was going to be a headache.

The colonial two-story house was absolute perfection. Fancy modern artwork decorated the walls. Glass tabletops with no smudges. Spotless white carpet.

I don't trust a house that clean, especially when twins are involved.

Mrs. Montgomery herself looked like Barbie Doll. She had long blonde hair and flaunted a fantastic body.

Every food product in the house was organic and mostly vegan. The girls were to have quinoa and raw veggies for dinner, she said. If they had a sweet tooth, there were prunes in the cupboard. The girls were not allowed to eat anything processed or containing sugar.

"Do you they have food allergies?" I asked, concerned.

Mrs. Montgomery looked surprised.

"Not at all," she said. "We're just a healthy family. Nobody in this household eats sugary or processed food. Plus, the girls need to be in top shape for pageant season."

When she left, the little girls came out of their hiding spots. They were decked out in vibrant blue eyeshadow, bright pink blush, red lips, and gloppy mascara.

They studied me intently, which made me nervous.

"Are you a lesbian?" one of the twins asked.

"What makes you think that?" I asked.

"Because you aren't wearing makeup," the twin said. "Mommy says that women who don't wear makeup all the time are lesbians."

Before I could respond, the other twin intercepted.

"Why are you fat?" she asked.

Um, I was five feet tall and 93 pounds. I didn't even dignify her question with an answer.

"What do you girls want to do?" I asked. "Play a game?"

They girls stared at me, blankly.

"Do you have any board games in the house?" I asked.

"What's a board game?" one of the twins asked.

"Video games?" I asked, baffled.

They shook their heads.

"We're not allowed to play games because Mommy says they rot brains," one of the twins explained.

"What do you do for fun?" I asked.

"I dunno, just put on makeup and weigh ourselves on the bathroom scale," the same twin responded. "Or yoga, but Cathy is on vacation."

So we literally sat on the pristine sofa and talked about their upcoming beauty pageants until dinner time.

Of course, I fucked things up from there.

You see, I burnt their dinner. I'm not sure how, it was just boxed quinoa and vegetables. But there was a big misunderstanding involving a fire and my not knowing how to use a stove.

The girls were delighted by the chaos. They had never known so much excitement!

So we went to the store and I got ingredients for the only dinner I knew how to make at the time: a chocofluffernutter.

Basically, you spread peanut butter, marshmallow fluff, and chocolate syrup on toast and eat it.

The girls were dubious at first, but after the first bite, they couldn't believe their luck.

"Oh my god, this is awesome!" they kept repeating, over and over again, in astonishment. It was the first time they had ever had marshmallow fluff in their lives. It was the first time they had ever had chocolate syrup and Jiffy peanut butter.

"Is this what heaven tastes like?" one of the twins asked me, dazed.

I was so fascinated by their reactions to the junk food, I just sat there and observed them. It was like watching aliens.

After dinner, I helped them take off their makeup and taught them how to play MASH. One of the twins was a little too excited at the prospect of living in a shack with some boy named James.

When Mrs. Montgomery arrived, she was pleasantly surprised to see the girls in such good spirits.

But unfortunately, I did not know that giving chocolate to a little girl for the first time was the equivalency of giving a junkie their first taste of crack.

A couple weeks later, Mrs. Montgomery angrily called me to let me know one of the twins had been caught drinking Hershey's syrup under her bed covers at 4 a.m. the night before.

I was never asked to babysit the twins again.

Adventures in Babysitting (Part I)

2011-10-24T14:00:00.007-05:00

Last week I was on the computer at the library, when I heard somebody call out my name.

I looked up and a good-looking blonde guy was waving at me. I scowled at him because I don't like it when strangers acknowledge me, but he continued to wave and then eventually came over.

"I can't believe it's really you!" the hot guy gushed. "It's been so long!"

Oh shit, I thought, did I date this guy? I racked my brain over my past relationships and dating disasters. Perhaps it had been so traumatic, my brain simply destroyed the memory!

"You were the best babysitter I ever had," the boy continued. "You are just as beautiful now as you were when I was ten."

A smile froze on my face. The strapping young gentleman standing before me was none other than Scottie, one of the kids I used to babysit when I was in college.

Holy shit.

Am I that old?! Well, I must be.

In honor of this blast from the past, I have decided to share my babysitting experiences from college with you.

Spoiler alert: They're not boring.

My stories are too lengthy to put in one post. So, I will be doing a three-part series.

You're welcome.

My first story revolves around: Scottie.

Scottie lived in a huge three story house located a block away from my parents' home. He was absolutely adorable, with a mop of shaggy blonde hair and big blue eyes. He was in fourth grade.

An hour before his bedtime, Scottie announced he was going to do his math homework.

I was pre-med at the time, juggling 18 hours of advanced calculus, physics, chemistry, and biology lab that semester.

I smugly told Scottie that if he had questions with his little fourth grade homework, I would be more than happy to help.

Sure enough, ten minutes later, Scottie called from the living room to say he needed my assistance.

I walked over to the coffee table and looked over his shoulder.

The problem stated:

"Jane ordered five pounds of chicken, two pounds of beef, and a half-pound of turkey from the butcher shop. The chicken was two dollars per pound, the beef was three dollars per pound, and the turkey was fifty cents per pound. She gave two-thirds of the chicken to her mother, who reimbursed her for half. Jane had $20 in her pocket, but dropped a $5 bill on her way to the store. How much money did Jane have left in her pocket when she got home that night?"

Are you fucking kidding me?

"I thought you were only in fourth grade," I said, wearily.

"I am!" Scottie responded.

I rubbed my temples and sighed.

"Scottie, I think you've been working so hard that you need a break!" I said. "Shoo! Shoo!" And I waved him out of the room.

He looked at me strangely and slowly walked up the stairs.

"But I only just started," he tried explaining.

I shooed him away again.

As soon as he was out of sight, I ran into the kitchen and grabbed the phone book.

I dialed the number for the nearest butcher shop.

Thankfully, it was still open.

"Hi, my name is Jane and I would like to purchase five pounds of chicken, two pounds of beef, and a half-pound of turkey," I told the employee when he answered.

"Oven-gold chicken or honey-roasted?" the man asked. "And would you like the beef 93 percent lean?"

Shit. The math book hadn't specified!

"Um, whatever is two dollars a pound," I answered, meekly.

"Our chicken is $4.27 a pound," he said. "Honey-roasted is a dollar more."

Wait, what?

"I need to give two-thirds of it to my mother!" I stuttered, practically in tears.

"Excuse me?" the man asked.

I hung up quickly.

What the fuck was I going to do? I couldn't admit to Scottie, or have his parents find out, that somebody studying to be a doctor couldn't even help him with his fourth-grade math homework!

So, I did what I did when I had calculus homework I couldn't figure out.

I called my father.

Surely, a physicist could figure out this stupid shit.

When my father answered, I asked him if he could help me with Scottie's math homework.

He was disgusted. "You can't figure out a fourth grader's math assignment?" he asked. "You're taking Advanced Calculus!"

I explained the homework assignment over the phone. There was silence on the other end.

"That's retarded," he dad finally said. "I'm coming over."

So, my dad came over and had a look at the math book. He was dumbfounded by the complexity of the problem for a fourth grader. It only took him a few minutes to figure it out and he left before Scottie even knew he was there.

When Scottie came downstairs, I proudly showed him the solution. He was impressed.

"Now you can go to bed!" I said, cheerfully.

Scottie shook his head.

"No I can't," he said. "I still have 24 more math problems just like it!"

Yes, my friends, it was a very long night. When Scottie's dad got home around midnight, we were still trying to figure out how much Jane had left in her pocket after the clumsy little bitch dropped five quarters outside a flower shop.

Anyway, it was a delight seeing Scottie again after all those years. He informed me that he is graduating from high school in May and he even took me to the parking lot to show me the brand new Mercedes convertible his parents bought him for his 18th birthday.

He said he is applying to colleges, but he isn't sure what he wants to major in yet.

"Maybe you should major in math," I said, snorting with laughter.

Scottie smiled politely, but I could tell he didn't understand the joke.

Jenny's Mouthwash

2011-10-21T10:50:00.001-05:00

I now have a monthly feature over at Amber's Mouthwash! It's kind of a big deal, so you should definitely check it out.

My first post is an exposé on an up-and-coming star in the music industry. If you love me, you'll check it out here:

http://ambersmouthwash.blogspot.com/2011/10/jennys-mouthwash-lana-del-rey.html

Have a great weekend!

Guest Post: Just be a Hooker!

2011-10-19T12:12:00.001-05:00

It's not everyday when a gorgeous redhead saves my ass.

But, alas, it has happened!

My awesome and dear friend Jessica, from Stumbling Towards Nirvana, has come to my rescue this internet-less week!

I hope you will enjoy her hilarious Halloween guest post below and also check out her blog, which is both inspiring and relatable.

Thanks, Jess!

Here she is:

So, here's the thing: if you want to be "sexy" this Halloween, just be a hooker. Seriously. Buy some 4-inch pink pleather boots (I found mine at second hand store), and run into the night in all your hooker, streetwalker, high-paid call girl glory. Proudly tell people that you're a stripper or a 7th avenue whore and then yell "shots for all my fellow sluts!" and get the party started.

Embrace the fact that just for one night, you're dressed like you could charge $500 an hour -- $1000 if he wants to get really dirty.

But don't, for the love of god, pretend that you're dressing up as an actual nurse, or cop or referee and your costume just happens to be missing almost all its material.

If you want to be sexy this Halloween, go for it. Go for it hard. But don't dress like Julia Roberts's skanky cousin and then pretend you're anything other than a girl who's embracing her inner hoochie.

I know there are certain costume creators who want you to believe that any costume can be made sexy, but this just isn't the case. Certain things just aren't naturally supposed to be "hot," and when you try to force the issue, you get nothing but drunk people laughing at you behind your scantily-clad back.

For instance:

"Sexy Pinocchio"

Pinocchio is a fucking frightening story about an old man who's so super lonely he creates a boy out of a toy and then that boy is lured away by creepy guys who try to turn him into a donkey. True story. True, terrifying story that is anything buy "sexy."

And no, that phallic nose does not help things.

"Sexy Crazy Person"

First of all, this costume is going to prevent you from doing anything, so I'm not sure why you'd even consider it. And secondly, what part of "I'm so nuts I might freak out and kill people so restrain me" is the sexy part?

Besides, once you undo the arms, your costume just goes back to looking like you're a hooker in a weird white dress. (Read my initial point about just being a prostitute).

"Sexy Clockwork Orange Person"

So, I'm not sure if the good people at Yardy.com have ever read Clockwork Orange, but if they did, they would realize the main character is kind of like the antithesis of "sexy" – and also a guy.

Plus (are we sensing a trend here?) this girl looks like she just stepped off the Vegas strip. Pour some glitter on her and you've got a showgirl who makes a little extra cash on the side by sleeping with sad, ugly businessmen who think they're the only one she actually does this with.

"Sexy Shark"

Okay – sharks are terrifying. There's nothing "sexy" about an animal that could rip you in half if given the chance, and since there's been an increase in shark bite deaths recently, I don't think I want to start fucking laughing at them.

Also, this costume doesn't look like a shark AT ALL. I mean, what's with those armbands? Sharks don't have those. They also don't have furry tassels on the end of their heads. Because if they did, we could pull them every time they tried to sever our legs and maybe get away, instead of dying a horrible and terrifying death.

"Sexy KISS WoMan"

Ugh. If there's anything I hate in this world, it's taking a character that's always been a dude, and not only turning into a costume for a chick, but making it "sexy" at the same time.

I mean, who thinks that weird make-up is sexy? No one does, because it's not. Plus, those boots are ugly.

"Sexy Transformer"

Unless you were a 14-year-old boy, these movies were lame. So why the hell would you want to spend like $50 on a costume that commemorates them? Not only were the Transformers dudes, they were robots. Alien robots. Who spent a lot of time with Shia Labeouf. Who wants to spend a lot of time with Labeouf?

Also, no one is going to get this costume. Not unless they're a giant nerd. And really, is that who you want to be spending Halloween with? A giant nerd? You dressed up in a tiny skirt and weird knee socks to hang out with a guy who likes alien robots Shia Labeouf movies?

Didn't think so.

Ladies, this Halloween, I want you to be as sexy and as hot as you can possibly be. But save yourself a lot of time and money and shipping costs and just go Pretty Woman on their asses all night long. Embrace your slutty side without having to deal with people looking at you weird and whispering, "wait, is that girl a sexy shark?"

Everyone knows what a hooker looks like.

PS: Even if you go as a whore, people may still mistake your costume for something a guidette would wear on the Jersey Shore. This can't be helped. Those girls know how to embrace their hooker side like no one else on this earth. Besides actual hookers.

Sal Mineo

2011-10-17T01:13:00.002-05:00

Thank you for all the kind words of support last week. I'll definitely keep you updated on what goes on.

It has been annoying being without internet these days. To keep from being bored, I have been watching a lot of movies.

One of my favorite films since high school has been Rebel Without a Cause.

This is a film you simply have to see at least once. There are no excuses.

While James Dean arguably has the most interesting life story in Hollywood history, I'm going to skip him and focus instead on his co-star, Sal Mineo. Because Sal has quite a disturbing tale of his own.

Sal played the troubled and homosexually-charged best friend to James Dean's character in the film.

Born to Italian casket-makers in The Bronx, he grew up in a rough neighborhood. By the time he was 8-years-old, he was the member of a much-feared street gang. After being arrested for robbery at age 10, his exasperated mother gave him a choice: go to juvie or go to acting school. Obviously, Sal chose the latter.

As a teenager during the 1950s, Sal broke into showbiz and made a few good films. But then Rebel Without a Cause came along. The film changed his life.

Sal soon found himself an international teenage heartthrob. He received more than 2,000 fan letters from adoring teenage girls every day. He basked in his newfound fame and couldn't believe his luck.

He milked his "troubled teen" image and played the same type of character in every movie offered to him. He even released an album of love songs, which did pretty well on the top 40 charts. He spent money like a billionaire, buying extremely lavish gifts for all his friends. He showed up to all the hottest parties with a bevvy of gorgeous starlets on each arm.

It was a dream life. But he was about to wake up.

When the 1960s came along, a grown-up Sal suddenly found himself unwanted. His teenage fans were now in their 20s and they were starting families and pursuing careers, rather than fawning over him. A new crop of teenagers, obsessed with the Beatles, had emerged. The innocence and charm of the 1950s were dead, and Sal was a leftover from a forgotten generation.

In his late 20s, he was no longer famous and completely broke.

He desperately tried to revive his career to no avail. He even camped out on Francis Ford Coppola's front lawn to earn a part in The Godfather, but it didn't work.

In the late 1960s, the bankrupt Sal shocked the world by revealing he was gay. It caused quite a stir, since coming out in Hollywood was unheard of at the time.

But even that publicity couldn't get him in films again.

In 1971, Sal humbly had his boyfriend call his old Hollywood buddies and beg them to reimburse him for the gifts he so generously gave them during his prime. Luckily for Sal, his friends were more than willing to help out. They gave him money to get back on his feet.

In the mid-70s, Sal began guest-starring on television shows.

He then snagged a role as a bisexual burglar in a stage play in Los Angeles in 1975.

The night before the play was supposed to open, Sal was found stabbed to death in front of his apartment in Hollywood. He was only 37 years old.

The police were baffled when they arrived on the scene, because Sal's wallet was not missing, which indicated he was not mugged. So, the police quickly assumed it had to be a gay thing, because, that's what they do, right?

Sal's murder stunned the world and created a media frenzy. All around the world, tabloids and gossip columnists speculated that Sal had been involved in a drug ring or perhaps rejoined his gang roots or he participated in sadistic homosexual rituals. What else could have led to his demise?

The mystery was so disturbing that even John Lennon put up a $100,000 reward for anyone who captured Sal's killer.

Four years later, the world learned the truth.

After a long investigation, a pizza deliveryman was arrested for the crime in 1979. The man had tried to rob Sal, but panicked when he heard a noise and stabbed him with a knife instead. He had no idea he had murdered a celebrity.

The murderer was given a life sentence but paroled in the early 90s. He was imprisoned again for another crime shortly afterwards.

Coincidentally, I learned that James Franco has directed a biopic about Sal, which is coming out this year.

Will you see it?

My long ass week

2011-10-13T09:43:00.001-05:00

Well, I had my drink last night. And then I had four more.

And now I'm suffering from a massive hangover.

This week has been one of those "shitfuckdamn" kind of weeks.

On Tuesday, my mom found herself in a car accident. She's fine, but I'm shaking with anger because of what is happening now.

My mom is a meek driver, which satisfies me because it means I don't have to worry about her alone on the road. On Tuesday morning she was appropriately driving 20 miles per hour in a construction zone when another car sideswiped her. They pulled over on the side of the road. The damage was minimal, which was lucky considering my mom's car is brand new. My mom's side door was slightly caved in, and the other woman's car, a 1994 Toyota Corolla, only got a few scratches on the driver's door.

The woman told my mom that my mom tried to pass her and then hit her. My mom was extremely confused because she was driving 20 miles per hour, straight in her lane, surrounded by traffic cones. Not only was it impossible for any car to pass another on the street, my mom knows for a fact she didn't pass anyone. She's not that type of driver. My mom called the police, but the police refused to come out to the scene. Apparently my city is filled with such extreme amounts of crime that the police don't have time to report to fender benders.

So, my mom exchanged insurance information with the woman, and then went to the nearby police station to fill out a report.

A couple hours later, this woman called my mom and said the right side of her body hurt. She said she was going to need medical attention because of the accident. Another hour later, she called my mom again to tell her that for the next few months, she was going to keep an eye on any other aches and pains that might be from the accident. She called my mom two more times after that, but I didn't let my mom answer her calls anymore. She didn't leave messages.

My mom spent all day Tuesday and all day yesterday worried sick about the accident. My mom knows this woman is lying and it's really bothering her. My mom is very sweet and she thinks everyone is a good person and she believes nobody would ever want to hurt anyone else, so she's very overwhelmed.

The icing on the cake came this morning, when my mom called upset. The other woman's insurance company had called her to say that the other woman had told them the police had been on the scene Tuesday morning and they had told my mom the accident was her fault.

Ummm. What?

My mom quickly told them that was a lie. She explained that the police did not show up to the accident. The police, of course, called the insurance company and verified my mom's story. The insurance company was stunned. They were perturbed their client would lie to them. But they still need to determine fault, since their client is also adamantly claiming my mom passed her on the street, causing the accident.

So now, hangover and all, I have to drive my mother out to the scene and take photos of all the construction, just to prove there was no way my mom, or any other car, could pass another car in that mess.

It's going to be a FUN DAY!

Oh, and there's MORE!

Yesterday, my dad was driving in the parking lot of a grocery store when a woman in an SUV plummeted into him because she was texting. He's fine, and the woman was mortified. She immediately called her insurance company to admit fault and she's very concerned about my father's well-being. So complete opposite of the other incident.

And now I'm really worried to drive because...well shit, am I next?

And finally, I'm without a computer. My laptop broke yesterday and my parent's computer broke down Tuesday. And my dad's friend who fixes them for free is on a two-week cruise right now. Which means that any time I want to use a computer, I have to use my boyfriend's. So my internet access is extremely limited right now.

Anyway. That's my week so far.

If you read this entire post, you just earned the Awesome Award. Congratulations, kid. You deserve it.

Life Lessons from my Dad

2011-10-11T11:15:00.005-05:00

I'm kind of a basketcase.

I get freaked out easily when it comes to really minor things.

If you know me in real life, it's not hard to figure out why I'm crazy. One of the reasons is because of my dad's stories.

My dad believes kids should learn life lessons through other people's mistakes.

So, growing up, I was subjected to hearing stories about why I shouldn't do certain things, based on the lives of his former friends and coworkers.

For example, I recently told my dad that I want a cat. (I'm allergic, this will never happen, but I still want one).

Here is my dad's reason for why I should never get a cat:

"You remember my friend Heidi from Detroit?" he asked. "Well, in 2001 she got a cat. A few years ago, she called me at 6:30 in the morning from a mental institution. She had gotten so depressed that she checked herself into an asylum."

...and that's it. That's the story for why I should never get a cat. He never elaborates on these stories. He just tells them and lets them hover in the air, for me to absorb.

Here are a few more stories from my childhood:

When I was in high school this is why I wasn't allowed to get a dog:

"In 1978 I was living in Chicago and I had a friend named Nick who really wanted a dog," he said. "Well, Nick got a dog and kept it in his apartment. One day, Nick came home from work and found out that his dog had destroyed the entire apartment. He chewed the sofa, he shredded his boots, and ate all his food. To this day, Nick never did get married."

Why girls shouldn't be allowed to date in high school:

"In 1995 I worked with a doctor in Tampa who let his teenage daughter date," he said. "She started dating this boy and became obsessed with him. She called him all the time, even when their family was on vacation. She would talk to him for hours a day. Two years later she got arrested for shoplifting and put in jail."

Why I shouldn't get lasik eye surgery:

"I had a friend in Springfield who got lasik eye surgery done," he said. "Ten years later, her car skidded off the road during a blizzard and she died."

Why I shouldn't travel outside the United States:

"You remember my friend Reema?" he asked. "In 1985, Reema went to Canada for vacation. When she got to Toronto, everyone threw tomatoes at her because Canadians don't like Indian women."

Why I shouldn't become Hindu:

"You remember my friend Harmony from Portland State?" he asked. "Well in 1972, she was into Indian stuff, you know Hinduism. Her husband let her go on a spiritual retreat to India. At the ashram, she met a German man and she had an affair with him. It destroyed her entire family and she got divorced."

Growing up, not only did I "learn my lesson" about these things, but I was also extremely concerned that the lives of so many of my dad's friends resulted in such a tragic demise.

So, I never got a dog. I never got a cat. I never travelled out of the country. I still wear contact lenses.

And even though I'm an adult now and know these "lessons" are absurd, I still can't help but think, in the back of my mind, that maybe this stuff will happen to me if I'm not careful.

What if I do decide to get a cat and then a few years later find myself being committed to a mental institution? What if?! And then I spend the rest of my life in a tiny padded cell thinking, "man, I should have listened to my father."

Shit. I can't handle this right now.

I need a drink.

My new boots!

2011-10-07T14:50:00.001-05:00

I don't often get to brag on this blog about my fabulous purchases, because I've been dirt poor for two years.

But...

I am now the proud owner of these vintage cowboy boots!

My favorite vintage store had them on sale and I was floored to see they were in my size. They are from the early 1970s and in quite good condition.

I had been looking for a pair of cowboy boots for a very long time. But they are always so expensive ($500 or more) and they require a lot of hard work to break them in. Since these are already broken in, they fit into my lazy lifestyle! I don't have to do anything but wear them! Yay!

Oh, and I also wanted to give you an update on The Playboy Club. One of the fans of my facebook page created an online petition to bring the show back. Click here to sign it. Thanks!

I hope you all have a great weekend! See you on Monday! xoxo

The Indian Bestie

2011-10-06T10:18:00.004-05:00

Growing up, I've stumbled upon many phenomenons in my lifetime.

One is a trend I somehow manage to create in anyone who becomes close friends with me:

The Indian Bestie

Almost every time I become close friends with a girl (black, white, Mexican, etc.) and I either move away, or the friendship dissipates, that girl immediately, with no time to spare, finds another Indian girl to take my place.

This may not seem strange to some of you.

But when I was a kid, this was weird. Because, um, there weren't that many Indian people around in Midwest USA at the time.

Which meant a couple of my former friends had to actually seek out the only other Indian girl living in town and cultivate a close friendship with her in a short period of time. That's a lot of work just to find my replacement!

But the more I think about it, the more I realize I probably did these old friends of mine a favor. I've introduced them to a secret.

Indian girls make the perfect best friend.

Here is why:

Indian girls are hot. It is very important to have a best friend who is just as attractive as you, if not more so. Hot girls attract boys. Hot girls get stuff for free. Hot girls make people smile. The emphasis on the plural is very important. A hot girl by herself is just a bitch.

Indian girls are smart. Nobody wants to tell people their best friend is a 20-something-year-old Wal-Mart greeter. When you are besties with an Indian girl you can proudly inform people, "My best friend is finishing up medical school this May!" or "My best friend is a forensic anthropologist!" or "My best friend is a freelance journalist who also has a successful fashion blog!"

Indian girls are not going to sleep with your boyfriend. Most Indian girls are not interested in whoring around because they have better things to do. Plus, many of them intend to one day marry a handsome, successful Indian man, who has their parents' approval. Chances are, your boyfriend isn't that guy.

Indian girls are loyal. For the most part, Indian girls are devoted and tight-knit. They are very family-oriented and treat close friends like family. If you're one of their lucky close friends, you will be invited to a lot of Indian social functions, involving delicious homemade food, gorgeous bright-colored sarees, and my favorite part, hot Indian guys.

Now who wouldn't want an Indian best friend?! Hell, I event want an Indian best friend now!

Disclaimer: Now some of you may have objections to this list of characterizations. "But Jennifer, my ex-best friend Priya Patel is an ugly dumb ass two-timing penniless bitch who slept with my dad!" Well, kids, obviously not all Indian women have these fantastic qualities. This is just a generalization based on my own observations.

Disclaimer to the disclaimer: In the quote above, Priya Patel is a fictional character made up for the sole purpose of entertainment and educational value. Any resemblance to an actual person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

If you want to see more of my friendly stereotyping, check out my 10,000 word post, Why Swedish Girls Make the Best Lovers.

Goodbye, Playboy Club...

2011-10-04T23:23:00.003-05:00

Well, it happened.

NBC announced today that it cancelled the new series, The Playboy Club. They claim it was due to poor ratings (only 3.4 million people watched it Monday night) and it may have also been due to pressure from conservative groups, such as the Parents Television Council.

I am so angry about this announcement, I can't even think of words to describe what I want to say. And that's saying a lot.

Only three episodes of the show had aired, so obviously, I'm not a die-hard fan or anything. But after three episodes, I really enjoyed the show. I could already tell it was going to be a show I was going to watch every week.

The acting was decent. The stars were sexy. The costumes were fabulous. The plot was thick with adventure, mystery, suspense, and jaw-dropping twists. It wasn't perfect, but it was a show which clearly had a lot of potential.

As for the ratings, all great television shows need time to develop a faithful audience. You can't just expect 20 million people to watch and fall in love with a show on the first night. It just doesn't work that way.

So, for NBC to cancel the show based on "poor viewership" after only three episodes is ridiculous.

As for the conservative groups which protested the show, I'm even more distressed. They denounced the show for being "pornographic" and for trying to sexualize women.

The Playboy Club was not pornographic by any means. It was based on the Playboy Bunnies (not the playmates) who were the waitresses at the illustrious Playboy Club in Chicago during the 1960s. These women were not strippers. They were not prostitutes. They were young, beautiful, and educated. Many were wives, mothers, and future businesswomen.

And as for the sexploitation of women, give me a break. Perhaps we should get rid of supermodels. Perhaps we should get rid of pop stars. Perhaps we should get rid of reality television show stars (which I wouldn't oppose, haha). There is nothing wrong with women wanting to be sexy and acting sexy. The fact that people call women being sexy sexploitation is what makes it sexist.

The show had an element of class to it, which you don't see very often on television these days. It highlighted the glamour of its era, plus focused on historical elements facing Chicago during this time period. It showcased gay rights, civil rights, and women's rights. Sure, it had romance and sex. But it wasn't graphic. It wasn't sleazy. There have been shows with much worse content.

I'm just really frustrated that a good show, with such great potential, got cancelled before it was even given a chance.

I'm tired of turning on the television and seeing stupid, meaningless shows that were created for the real-life Homer Simpson.

Because those are the shows which last in this country.

Many of the shows I've fallen in love with over the years have failed with the average American.

Freaks & Geeks. Sports Night. Arrested Development.

It makes me really sad.

There is a Facebook page to support the show. Perhaps with our collective fabulousness, we can save it. (Well, perhaps not, but humor me).

So please like the page, if you liked the show! Thank you.

Fashion Guest Post!

2011-10-03T09:51:00.001-05:00

Love Golden Girls? I show you how to get their style here: http://ambersmouthwash.blogspot.com/2011/10/guest-post-golden-girls-by-jennifer.html

Guest Post: Jonny's Fall TV lineup!

2011-10-03T01:15:00.004-05:00

Please enjoy this guest post from my bestie!

What can I say about the new Fall lineup on TV? One word: fabulous. Okay, I know that word is a little overused here… eh, who cares?!? I know Jenny has told you about our favorite new show, The Playboy Club, but I have a few new shows I want to feature!

Let's start with Monday night.

2 Broke Girls is great in addition to The Playboy Club. For a live-action comedy, the writing is pretty good. I don't feel stupid when I watch it. It's produced by Whitney Cummings (who has her own show on Thursday nights on NBC-- more on that below) and directed by veteran TV director James Burrows (Will & Grace, Mike & Molly, Fraiser, Friends, Caroline in the City, Cheers, Taxi, Rhoda, Laverne & Shirley, The Bob Newhart Show, Phyllis, The Mary Tyler Moore Show-- the list goes on and on-- in other words, a lot of great classic shows!). Kat Dennings is my favorite for her very direct, and often dirty, humor…

Tuesday night for me is the new season of NCIS. It's not a new series, of course, but it's one of my favorites that I look forward to each week. The cast and the writing always keep me coming back for more. (And a side note, Muse Watson, the guy who played Mike Franks, came to see the show I perform at in Branson this week--pretty exciting!)

As for Wednesday nights, Harry's Law returns for a second season. I stopped watching during the first season because Kathy Bates (who I've loved ever since Fried Green Tomatoes) always seemed so depressed in her acting. There was no fire in her. It worked for the first episode because her character gets fired from her law practice, gets hit by a bus and is subsequently depressed, but it stayed lackluster and never developed. Since they added Jean Smart to the cast, I'm giving it a second shot. Her character, Hosanna Roseanna, is so dark and juicy! Definitely not the Charlene Frazier Stillfield we remember from way back when… and she looks great for having just turned 60! (And speaking of Designing Women alum, Annie Potts is returning to TV in a new series on ABC called Good Christian Belles that's supposed to premiere later this season.)

Thursday nights has a lot of great new shows. Person of Interest is an intense ride! Jim Caviezel plays an ex-CIA agent who is recruited to stop crimes before they happen. Think Early Edition post-9/11 with a lot of guns and action. I hope the rest of the season keeps up with the action as much as the pilot episode.

Prime Suspect is remake of the British series of the same name which starred the fabulous Helen Mirren (which ran off and on from 1991-2006). Mario Bello does a great job kicking ass and taking names. She plays a detective who has to overcome the "good 'ol boys club" while fighting horrible crimes.

Whitney is Whitney Cumming's new series, and it's actually cute. I'm anxious to see how this one develops over the season. Very promising! Great writing! It's not Jenny's favorite, but I'm sure she'll tell you why later...

There's a new show on CBS on Friday night's that surprised me. A Gifted Man is about a New York City neurosurgeon who treats only the rich and famous. After his dead ex-wife visits him from beyond (the first visit he doesn't know she died two weeks earlier), he has a change of heart and decides to treat the less fortunate. Think Providence meets Touched By An Angel-- two of my favorite classic television series.

Sunday nights round off the week with Pan Am. I know the networks are getting a little overboard with the historical fiction series, but this one has a lot of promise. Good characters and lots of mystery. Much like The Playboy Club, Pan Am is about a group of stewardesses who fly around the world, dress fabulously, have romantic rendezvous, and maybe spy for the U.S. Government. Christina Ricci is always a treat to watch. Definitely set your DVR for this one!

However, there are a few shows you shouldn't waste your time on. Let's start with Charlie's Angels. When I first saw the marketing for this show, I was excited. I was in New York at the time and their giant billboard was all over Times Square. I was instantly hooked. The three women looked great, and I loved this series the first time around so how could they go wrong? Well, it was so corny. In the first scene they rescue a kidnapped girl and the fight scene they had with the bad guys was so cheesy. Total fake. I deleted it 7 minutes into it.

I had higher hopes for two new shows on NBC. Up All Night is Christina Applegate's new series, and I absolutely love her. I hated it when they canceled her show, Samantha, Who?, two years ago. However, I was bored with this show. I don't care for humor like The Office. I know, start writing the hateful comments, but it just doesn't make me laugh. This show plays off this type of humor. I loved the pilot episode but not the subsequent ones. Next please.

The other show that follows right behind that is Free Agents. Natasha Leggero, guest panelist on Chelsea Lately with Whitney Cummings, et al, is hysterical. I love her and hope she gets her own series one day. However, the other characters are boring and I found myself loving the pilot and hating every episode after that. Delete. Delete. Delete.

Out of all the new shows, there were only three that I didn't like. I'd say that is impressive! Of course, the only reason why I'm watching these shows is to fill the void until my other shows come back from hiatus-- The Closer, Rizzoli & Isles, Memphis Beat, White Collar, Necessary Roughness, Suits -- basically until USA and TNT's entire lineup comes back.

What do you think of the new shows? Are there any that I didn't mention that I should have checked out? What are your favorites?

Happy (awkward) Weekend!

2011-10-01T00:29:00.001-05:00

If you're bored, check out this website.

You're welcome.

Scary Love (a true story)

2011-09-29T11:30:00.002-05:00

I seriously have the most fucked up story to tell you.

It is in your best interest to read every word, or you won't experience the same kind of horror I did, when I first learned the tale.

If you're a little older than me, or perhaps from New York, you may know this story already.

It is the story of Linda Riss and Burt Pugach.

I recently saw a documentary about the couple.

In 1959, Burt Pugach was a successful 30-something-year-old lawyer in New York City. He was driving with a buddy in the Bronx one day, when he saw a gorgeous young woman sitting on a bench. He practically jumped out of the moving car to introduce himself to the beauty.

She was 21-year-old Linda Riss, a kind-hearted girl from a poor family.

Dazzled by his wealth and charm, Linda agreed to go out with Burt, much to the delight of her lower middle class family. Burt took her to the hottest clubs in New York City, showing her off to his jealous friends. Linda became absolutely smitten with the adoring older man.

But one day, Linda found out that Burt was married, with a young daughter. She was heart-broken and disgusted. She broke off their relationship. Burt begged her to come back to him and even showed her some divorce papers to prove he was leaving his wife.

Linda was about to relent, because she loved Burt, but then her family's lawyer discovered that the divorce papers were fake. Burt had no intention of leaving his family for her. So, Linda broke things off with Burt for good.

Burt begged her to come back. She wouldn't relent. He started to become obsessed with her. He called her apartment dozens of times per day. He called her family and her friends. He stood across from her apartment every day. He followed her everywhere she went.

He event sent her a threatening note, saying if he couldn't have her, nobody could.

Linda was frightened and went to the police several times. But 1959 was a time before stalking laws were in place. The police shrugged off the incidents and told Linda there was nothing she could do.

Meanwhile, Linda tried desperately to move on with her life. She soon met a very handsome young man and they became engaged.

When Burt heard about the engagement, he was livid. Overwhelmed by jealousy and hatred, he hired a few men off the street and whispered a plan to them.

One afternoon, the doorbell rang at Linda's apartment. Linda's mom answered it and called out to her daughter that it was a deliveryman with a wedding package.

When Linda came into the doorway, the fake delivery man threw acid in her face.

The 23-year-old beauty was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance and was there for several days.

But it was too late. She was blind and facially disfigured.

The incident made national news. Burt was the most hated man in America that year. He received 14 years in prison.

Despite the sympathy pouring in from millions of people, Linda's life was destroyed.

Her fiance broke off their engagement. Not because Linda was no longer beautiful, but because he simply couldn't afford to take care of her, now that she was visually handicapped.

For the rest of her 20s, Linda dated various men, but the relationships all ended when she took off her sunglasses and revealed the horror underneath.

She became painfully depressed and incredibly lonely. She spent the next decade holed up in her tiny apartment in New York City, hating her life.

And during those years, Burt never left her alone. He called her from jail every week and wrote her letters every day. He was still obsessed with her. She couldn't escape him.

In 1974, Burt was released from jail and he immediately contacted Linda, desperate to see her in person. Against her better judgement, Linda accepted.

When she went to see Burt for dinner, he apologized for ruining her life and asked her to marry him.

Linda accepted.

Although she hated Burt for what he had done, she could tell he was truly sorry and he still loved her. Plus, she was lonely and living in squalor. The finally-divorced Burt was a wealthy meal ticket who could take care of her. She truly didn't believe she had anyone else. She was desperate.

The two married that year.

Their marriage shocked the entire nation. They were the subject of every talk show, news report, and magazine article in the country that year.

Linda's family and friends were appalled. But Linda saw it a different way. She felt she finally had a man who still thought she was beautiful, despite the physical damage he had caused. Plus, what better payback than to force him to see what he had done every single day for the rest of his life?

Their marriage appeared to be oddly blissful until 1997, when a young woman accused Burt of threatening her life. Although Linda was hurt when she discovered her husband had been having an affair with the woman, she was a character witness during the trial, stating her husband wouldn't harm a fly.

It worked, because he was found innocent.

Burt and Linda are still married today. Happily.

What do you think?

Fall Baking with Jonny & Jenny

2011-09-27T13:27:00.002-05:00

I'm sorry for the unexplained absence.

My bestie Jonny came to visit, so I sort of put my life on hold for a few days and had fun.

It was a lovely weekend. On Saturday night, we met up with Jonny's friend, Greg, who was visiting from NYC. We went to an art show, dined at a fancy restaurant, and then headed over to my favorite lounge to listen to live jazz music and sip cocktails.

On Monday, Jonny and I had a lazy day.

We made pumpkin pie and pumpkin challah.

Well, Jonny baked everything while I sat by and chain-drank grapefruit raspberry cocktails, let's be real.

If you're fascinated by pumpkin challah, here is a recipe.

I hope everyone is having a cozy week!

I like your beard.

2011-09-23T00:28:00.002-05:00

I'm so obsessed with this crazy bitch.

Have a spectacular weekend.

I love you.

Nostalgia for the 1990s

2011-09-22T10:10:00.000-05:00

Were you a child of the 90s? Check out my guest post here:

http://www.love-life-project.com/2011/09/wild-child-circa-1990.html

Amber Heard

2011-09-21T10:00:00.004-05:00

A couple days ago, I got caught up in a new television show, The Playboy Club.

I'm a huge fan of the 1960s and Mad Men, so I thought I would give the show a shot. I was pleasantly surprised that The Playboy Club focused less on sleaze and more on an exciting plot. So much happened in one hour!

I was instantly smitten with the main actress, Amber Heard, who is absolutely adorable.

I had seen her in a few films beforehand, and I knew she is starring with Johnny "spank me" Depp in the upcoming The Rum Diary (which I'm dying to see).

Well, after seeing her lovely debut as a Playboy Bunny in the new NBC show, I decided I simply had to know more about her!

The 25-year-old has a pretty interesting story.

Amber comes from a middle-class Catholic family in Austin, Texas.

In high school, she was active in her school's drama department and also did local modeling and television commercials.

When she was 16, however, her life changed forever.

Amber's best friend died in a car accident. The incident haunted Amber, who began reading depressing novels by Ayn Rand and George Orwell. She then proclaimed herself an athiest.

At 17, she eventually dropped out of high school and moved to New York City to become a model.

A very short time later, she found herself doing small parts in television and movies in Los Angeles.

As her career began to pick up speed, so did the public's interest in her.

Last year, Amber came out at GLAAD's 25th anniversary event. She is currently dating the famous Hawaiian artist and photographer, Tasya van Ree, who is ten years her senior.

When she's not busy working, Amber enjoys spending time with her girlfriend, traveling, line-dancing in Texas bars, cooking, doing her own laundry, and playing with her Golden teacup Yorkie named Pistol.

She is an avid gun enthusiast (you can take the girl out of Texas, but...) and she proudly owns a .357 Magnum.

She is also a huge fan of muscle cars and like a bad ass, drives a 1968 Ford Mustang.

Despite her climb to fame, Amber just wants to keep it real.

"I would just love to work in films for the rest of my life. I don't care about famous or about being anything like that. All I care about is living my life, being able to do what I love, working project to project, city to city, in films I believe in. That's the only way to live."

What do you think of Amber?

A look at: Amberie

2011-09-20T01:45:00.002-05:00

I'm really excited because my bloggy bff has just launched her jewelery store online!

Many of you probably know Amber from Amber's Mouthwash. She's an adorable quirky beauty with the cutest style in the world. I seriously want to own everything in her closet!

Amber recently launched Amberie, a collection of drool worthy jewelry and headbands.

I had the honor of interviewing Amber, so you all could get the head's up on her new store and learn a little about the artist herself!

Enjoy!

How long have you been designing jewelery/accessories? Why did you start?
My mother would probably want me to say that I have been designing things for a while. However, I really began focusing on designing accessories in late 2008. It was the Fall '09 DVF collection that got me started. I was in love with the pom pom like head pieces and was determined to create something similar. When her spring collection came out the following season, I nearly died. That's when I decided to create my own floral headpiece. At that time however, it was because I loved it, and simply wanted to share in the beauty.

How would you describe your collection?
Urban woodland nymph, trying to take on a more polished outlook...but keeps slipping? Kidding! I'd say an innocent 1970's is Amberie's look. Definitely girly.

Where do you find your inspiration?
My first inspiration came out of pure panic, actually. I was on a layover in Heathrow, flying from Nice, France and on my way back to San Francisco. It was September 2009. I had moved out to France just three weeks prior with big dreams. I had been saving throughout my four years of college in anticipation of moving abroad to experience the culture, food and language of another country. I had always known that I would choose France. I went over as an au pair, and the first night there, I nearly had a panic attack. It dawned on me that I had traveled thousands of miles to a sleep in a strange bed, and live with a family that I had really, never met. The first week went fine, but by the end of the second week the mother stopped speaking to me. A week later, an emergency ticket back home (not covered by the family), and one night spent in the airport, I was on my way home. To say that I was absolutely devastated would be an understatement.

I was suddenly without my dream of living abroad, without a job, broke, and had bills waiting for me. On the flight, I was determined to keep my head held high. I've always believed that dressing the way you love helps assert confidence, and I decided to wear my favorite headband. It was the floral DVF Spring 2009 inspired one that I had made nearly a year ago (at that time). I received such a positive response from people in Heathrow that I began to wonder if I had a business opportunity. It was on the flight between London and San Francisco that Amberie was born. I took out a loan of $35 from my boyfriend, and four months later I got into my first store!

Now what inspires me are the things that I find beautiful. I love flowers. I particularly love wearing flowers in my hair. Flowers, feathers and sparkles. I think those three things pretty much sum up Amberie.

What is your most popular item?
You're never going to believe this: Black lace Bunny Headband, with black lace veil. They'll be out first thing October. Lady Gaga inspired that headband!

Anything else you want people to know about Amberie?
Amberie is a play on French vocabulary. In French, where things are created, such as a bakery, they often end in "rie". So, a boulangerie is a bakery. So Amberie, is my little area of creativity.

What do you think of Amberie? Don't forget to check out Amberie on Facebook!

Emmy Red Carpet Hits & Misses

2011-09-19T01:28:00.001-05:00

I watched the Emmys last night. I was so pleased Mad Men won for Best Drama. It is my favorite television show.

The red carpet looks were interesting. There were so many beautiful gowns waltzing around next to pure crap.

I decided to share my loves and hates with you:

LOVES

Nina Dobrev

I am kind of obsessed with The Vampire Diaries. And I'm kind of obsessed with Nina. She's an absolute doll. This lipstick red Donna Karan gown epitomizes everything I love about old-school Hollywood: glamour, beauty, and power.

Aubrey Plaza

This is another golden-era gown which caught my eye. I'm not usually attracted to white gowns, because they tend to look a bit bridal, but this Juan Carlos Obando creation is flawless. It fits the Parks & Rec actress like a liquid glove as well.

Sarah Hyland

This red carpet dress is extra special because the 20-year-old helped design it, along with Project Runway diva, Christian Siriano. How cool is that?! The Modern Family actress has very classy taste. The Grecian-inspired gown is quite sexy without being trashy. It's refreshing to see a young actress who respects that line.

Cobie Smulders

This actress is from How I Met Your Mother. I don't watch that show or know this girl. But now I want to know more about her after seeing this stunning Rene Caovilla gown. That shade of aqua takes my breath away.

Sofia Vergara

If I could have one wish, it would be to exchange bodies with this gorgeous Modern Family actress. How stunning is she in this Vera Wang beauty?!

HATES

Gwyneth Paltrow
Waiting for someone to release her...out of that Emilio Pucci gown

Poor Gwynnie chose the wrong time to dress up in an old costume she bought at Christina Aguilera's garage sale. The Genie in a Bottle look is so 1999 and probably won't be back in style until our kids are old enough to make an ironic statement out of it.

Christina Hendricks
Where did she go?

In my opinion, Christina has a rockin' hot bod built for old-school glamorous gowns. And with that fiery red hair, she would be pure sex in a bold, sassy color. So why she chose this ill-fitting silver gown which washes her out is beyond me. She told reporters that this was the only dress she tried on that looked good on her. She is either blind or has lower self-esteem than Eeyore.

Katie "I don't give a shit anymore" Cruise

Mrs. Tom Cruise no longer cares about fashion anymore. She chose a boring, casual dress from the Calvin Klein sportswear department and added a belt. The dress, while a pretty shade of blue, looks handmade. From the waist up, Katie also looks like she should be doing pilates with other suburban moms in an upscale community center.

Julianna Margulies' last minute disaster

My parents LOVE this woman. They are the biggest fans of her show, The Good Wife. Unfortunately, there is nothing good about this Giorgio Armani Prive gown. I want to rip off all the obnoxious plastic bubbles on top of the lampshade she's wearing around her chest. On the red carpet, Julianna said she chose the dress the night before. I guess all the somewhat decent gowns were already taken...beggars can't be choosers?

Paz De La Huerta
Winner of the Love/Hate Award

Part-time actress, full-time hot mess Paz De La Huerta scored the most points for pissing me off.
On one hand, I love everything about the dress. That breathless shade of pink is divine and the overall design is glamorously lovely. It breaks my heart that Paz chose to ruin the dress with well, herself. She looks like a disheveled corpse doused in tanning spray. I seriously believe Pazzy must have woken up after a night of hard-core partying, threw on the dress and walked straight to the Kodak Theatre. The only thing missing was her family-sized bottle of Jack Daniels.

Which looks did you love and hate on the red carpet last night?

Update & Pinterest

2011-09-16T10:20:00.003-05:00

It is a blistery fall morning here in my sprawling midwestern metropolis.

There is a harsh wind roaring outside my kitchen window and the sky is a whitish gray.

I'm bundled up in a wool blanket, sipping steaming chai, surrounded by kleenex.

My allergies have been severe all summer and now that fall is here, they're even worse. I'm completely miserable.

I haven't really updated you on my life recently, so here I am.

These days I have been freelancing for a smaller newspaper, filling in for a reporter who is on maternity leave. I'm back to covering city council meetings and writing feature stories, which is fun. The town I'm covering is about an hour away from here, so it is a little bit of a drive, but totally worth it. I love being back in the game.

This weekend, I'm actually covering a couple events, so I'll be kind of busy.

I have also been spending a lot of my free time pinning.

I've been on pinterest for a while now, but I just added a button to my sidebar in case you want to follow my boards.

Anyway, that's really all I have to say for now...

I hope you all have a lovely weekend!