Oh Right. You People.

Oh, heeeeeeeeey everybody. I know I've been essentially gone for a week. I would really like to give you a spectacular reason, like I was writing a book or I came down with the mumps.

Truth is? 90% of things happening in my life worth discussing are all work-related, so I basically can't tell you about my life. Which is WAY more annoying for me than it is for you, because I have SO MANY THINGS I WANT TO TALK IN ALL CAPS TO YOU ABOUT. AND I CAN'T.

The other problem is, I want to tell you about A Wrinkle In Time. I reread it for the first time since the 4th grade, and I was going to compare it to the journal entry I KNOW I wrote about it back then. But it turns out, I don't freaking have that journal like I thought I did. So next time I go home, I'm scouring our crawl space for a Kelly green journal with erasable pen scribblings, and you shall get, at the VERY least, an awesome drawing. And at the very most, some insight into how much I loved Michael D. (Because boy howdy DID I.)

I've also wanted to write an entry about why I still love Rosie O'Donnell despite the general public's disdain for her. But really I just want to say, "She's real, she's hilarious, and she's kind of a bad ass. Done and Done." *brushes off hands*

But I'm here. And I promise to post worthy things, which may be as soon as tomorrow. Who knows?!

Sigh, I'm sorry. I'm terrible. Bulldog puppy?



I grew my skin FIRST.

This Is My Life!

Why I Think I'm Allergic To Spinach

Clever Title I Can't Be Arsed To Write

I'm in a place today. A work-related, career-related, life-related, long term goal-related place.

Basically, I would like to get a hold of a time machine so I can go back to the 5th grade and tell my bowl cut, glasses-wearing self, "F*CK IT, you'll be a Muppeteer if you damn well want to be a Muppeteer."

And then I'll come back to now. But for good measure, I'll make a stop in 1999, slap myself for not wearing my retainer, and then come back for good.

I am going to go home and make myself a sandwich comprised of bacon, smoked gouda, and a slathering of Steve Martin. It might work.

Oh my god, it's The Day.

My Own Good Fortune

My fortune cookie just informed me that I will inherit a large sum of money.
Reasons why this is important:

1. It's been a long time since a fortune cookie has given me an actual fortune and not told me in so many words that I am "well-liked."

2. I'm pretty sure I've gotten this fortune before. Which means it HAS to be true, right?? And not that they recycle the same general blather to multiple restaurants?

3. I don't have anyone from whom to inherit a large sum of money (oh EXCUSE me, my family is peopled with hard-working, Main Street Americans who came to this country on the Mayflower with nothing but a dream and a fear of witches, so why don't you BACK THE HELL OFF) but if Gilmore Girls is anything like real life--and I'm almost positive that it is--there is always a possibility that my spunky-yet-responsible attitude will land me into piles and piles of money that I hardly worked for. So there's THAT.

4. The Dream House I created for an assignment in the 3rd grade had a "Gladiators"-style ceiling crawler (At first I googled "Gladiators harness". I do not suggest you do this.) which led into a Scrooge McDuck room full of money for me to swim through. A) Can you tell that my childhood imagination often fell just short of pure plagiarism? and B) This is still one of my dream rooms, physics of metal coins be damned! And when I inherit a large sum of money, why YES I believe I WILL be making that happen.



(PS. That fortune cookie is from Natalie Dee. Go to her.)

Happy Valentine's Day Everybody!

As someone whose first kiss was the day before Valentine's Day, self-started and off-centered, here's to every movie that raises first kiss expectations to an unattainable level.

The Copywriter's Dream Journal

I have found it.

Since middle school, I've kept a journal. Starting in lined notebooks and moving on to internet, I've always had some way to record my jaw-dropping, awe-inspiring, adventurous life. Entries like, "Today Michelle and I had a sleepover and made cinnamon rolls." "I had a dream that Kevin W and I went to the dance together. It was awesome." "Made up a new nickname for Teena. It caught on. Popularity here I come!"

I mean...who am I to deprive the world of such inspiring words?

But lately, I've lost the "Dear Diary" method of recording. And while I love sharing stuff on this blog, none of y'all want to know about the OUTSTANDING mac & cheese I had at lunch today. And besides. How boring does a diary seem that's filled with pages of "today i did this and it was cool."

Until I found this at Urban Outfitters (QUIT YOUR SCOFFING, I CAN HEAR YOU FROM HERE.)

As you can see, it's a 5-year diary that gives you only enough space for about 3 sentences. Enough to decide what the one thing was that you did that day, jot it down, and wait until tomorrow. And as a copywriter trained in the art of conciseness? What could be a better once-a-day exercise in keeping it simple?

Also, it is possibly the cutest book ever.
1. It is seafoam green, the cutest of all the greens.
2. It has that gold stuff on the edges of the pages, which I found mesmerizing as a child. (I was bored a lot.)
3. The cover is slightly squishy, almost that same material as how they used to make toilet seats before everyone realized how gross that is.

Besides all this, I love that it lasts for 5 years, and each page is the same day of 5 different years. So as long as I keep at it, when I'm 31 (ACK! ACK!) I'll be able to look back on one page and see how my life has/has not changed in the past 5 years.

And that's all. I'm just really excited. Sorry. This is not the post you're looking for.

50 Finger 'Stache Official Results

Welp! Adrienne and I FINALLY presented our 50 finger 'staches yesterday. It was supposed to be last week but The Storm Of Insanity (not to be confused with The Cliffs of Insanity) kept us all in our houses.

Here's the entire thing. Look how pretty!!


And here are the winners. *Awkward Michael Scott Drumroll*
BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrr....brrrrrr....rrrrrrr....

RUNNER UP:


SECOND PLACE:


FIRST PRIZE:



AND SECRET ASSISTANT TO THE FIRST PRIZE (brought to you by Regina Phalange):


Sadly, our efforts did not win us a prize, but you guys should have SEEN the great stuff people brought in. The winner made an entire (BOUND) coloring book. Someone else made pins. Someone else made 50 drawings that were good enough that Adrienne and I both bought one off of her at $5 each. That does NOT, however, mean that we don't appreciate the effort that you guys put into your finger 'staches, and we thank you VERY much. Wow, I'm really into the CAPS today. I regret nothing.

Of course, if you can donate a bit (a dollar, five...a million, whatever) to the cause, which is a tutoring center in inner-city Chicago, that makes you even more splendorrific. Go to "Collabostache" and donate your heart out.

A Case Both For--And Against--Glee.

I can't make up my mind about Glee.

When people excitedly bubble, "Oh my God, do you watch Glee?" I breathe an emphatic "Oh my God, YES! How. Amazing. Is. That. Show."

But the thing is, even in the same day I might have someone ask me angrily, "Ugh, have you seen Glee?" And with an eye roll I mutter, "Christ, don't EVEN get me started with that show."

And yet I watch. And watch. And download songs. And watch some more. Despite my clearly mixed feelings on the matter. I thought it might be good to try and vocalize my feelings on that show. Maybe it'll bring light to my own opinions for me, so I can quit looking like such a waffler. Let's start with the bad news.

A CASE AGAINST GLEE


1. I'm sorry, but how old are these children? I mean, God forbid Daniel Radcliffe be a few years older than Harry Potter, but no one seems to blink an eye that these "high school" kids have back hair. Is it me?

2. These songs. You are BUTCHERING these once wonderful songs. From Broadway to MJ to Queen, you cannot just take any song you want, cover it with your silly, un-bourboned voice and sell it to teen girls and their moms for millions of dollars. Not when the original singers have lived and died by their music. "Everything's Coming Up KURT"? COME ON, guys. Is nothing sacred?

3. Hey. Glee. Suspend some reality, will you? Between the constant breaking out into song to the insanely expensive performances with lights, costumes, and NARY an audience, to the lip syncing while jumping, it's like being slapped in the face with a giant wad of your sponsorship money.

4. Golly, a high school show where the cheerleaders always wear their cheerleading outfits, jocks wear their varsity jackets inside, and popular kids are idiots who crave nothing but sex and furthering their own popularity. Refreshing.

5. John Stamos. He's a cast member now. But where is he? Why is he not around more often? I am counting this against you, Glee. Where is my Uncle Jesse "Forever" cover? Because I promise you, during that moment, there will be streams of tears.

6. The writing (and acting) during the show's serious moments leaves much to be desired. Maybe they hired a soap opera writer to take over during those parts? Any conversation about "our relationship" makes me want to rip the TV off my elliptical and throw it at someone, just to create some ACTUAL tension.

7. These songs are ridiculously auto tuned. It's like the difference between Original Star Wars and Remastered Star Wars. I don't actually mind when things weren't perfect and you could see the strings. It's interesting. It's gritty. It's REAL.


A CASE FOR GLEE


1. Sue. Sylvester. This could actually be the only piece in this side of the argument. If you have only seen one episode of Glee and it was not one with Jane Lynch, then you have done yourself a SAD injustice. It's like saying you hate cats because your grandma had a hissing, spitting, rabies cat once. PLEASE give it another shot with Sue. She might change your life. To inspire you, here are some choice Sue quotes:

"Even if your team has dropped their sequin-covered panties and urinated all over the stage like an elderly Carol Channing, they literally could not have done worse."

"I never wanted kids. Don't have the time, don't have the uterus."

"Nobody quite like the Material Girl to empower my Cheerios. Just like your hair dresser has empowered you to look absolutely ridiculous."

(And my personal favorite) "If it is one minute late, I will go to the animal shelter and get you a kitty cat. I will let you fall in love with that kitty cat. And then on some dark cold night, I will steal away into your home...and punch you in the face."


2. In my opinion, the most passionate way to express your emotions is by belting it out in song. And MAN do these kids do just that. It's like they take all the hormones and stress and passion of being a teenager and throw it at at you. And it's freaking amazing.


3. The songs are actually helping. I was sure that young kids would take these songs and ignore their original artists. It was going to be "Did you know 'The Grinch' used to be a cartoon??" all over again. But it turns out, the reason why so many people are willing to let Glee cover their songs is because with each single, sales of the original are taking off, too. It's like the Wayne's World/Bohemian Rhapsody scenario (kinda) but for dozens of songs, every week. Which is freaking awesome. It's bringing the 80s, Broadway, and non-pop genres and making them accessible to a new generation.


4. While the popular kids get the short end of the stereotyping stick, there are so many other boundaries broken and so many other groups represented in Glee, it's hard to stay mad for long. Becky, the girl with Down's Syndrome is completely adorable and very much capable. There's Tina, the goth Asian with a voice that'll blow your eyeballs into the back of your head. And while they started with Kurt as the only gay representative with a higher voice and love of fashion and Liza, a few newbies have snuck their way in, including a dreamy dream dream and a caveman-like jock who's struggling with his own prejudices. I give them credit for trying to expand, although I know there are many who are less pleased.

5. There's an honesty about stereotypes in our generation that I'm not sure has been there before. People are a lot more willing to put things out in the open, laugh about them, and continue to break free of those stereotypes. We don't have to ignore the things that are right out there in order to be PC. We just need to be respectful. So when Artie (who is in a wheelchair) sang a song for Brittany and she said, "That's my man and his legs don't work!" I found it endearing and funny. And I like that this show has picked up on the fact that us young'ins feel that way.

6. If taken seriously, this show comes across as completely ridiculous and unfathomable. But I think anyone who actually enjoys it understands that this show is about parody and silliness. Just in the episode this week: we had the skinny girl trying to take down the big girl and failing MISERABLY. It's not supposed to be real. It's supposed to be a comedy, a parody of real high school.

7. My greatest argument is this: it's fricken fun. No one ever said the show was supposed to be realistic. The point of TV is to take you away from your real life. And Glee does that with more flair than any other show out there. Besides, dudes. You are NOT allowed to bitch about reality. Because I have seen Speed. And the day I see you jump onto a helicopter as it follows a train through a tunnel? That's the day I turn off Glee. Calm down. Have some fun.

Anyone else have thoughts? Opinions? What do you think about the songs? The stereotypes? Is Rachel a goddess or an overactor?

3 Reasons Why I Scared Everyone At The Super Bowl Party

When Joe and I first started dating and I met his friends, I was impressive. I'm not going to lie. I was the life of the party. I sparked conversation, I laughed at all the right places, I cracked jokes...I don't know what it was. Somehow I was not socially awkward. I thought maybe I had finally grown up and come into my own. Turns out? Nope. No, I'm exactly the same person I used to be. At the Super Bowl party with Joe's friends, I was super awkward to the extreme. Here's the breakdown.

1. Chevrolet

The commercials are going. I'm paying attention even though no one else is (As I expected would happen. The curse of being in Advertising.) People are laughing. Chatting. And then this ad comes on:



And I screamed. SCREAMED. Silence fell over the party. Everyone looked at me. I had my face covered and buried in the couch cushions. Joe whispered, "She has a phobia of whales."

You know what, Chevy? SCREW YOU. I was expecting a lot of things from this Super Bowl, including overeating, giggling at the phrase "ball control", and watching a ton of great ads without FEAR FOR MY LIFE. And you have RUINED those plans for me

2. Boy Parts

You guys know I'm not the biggest sports fan. But I'm willing to gather where ever there are people talking smack and eating bean dip. I've learned through years of training (aka forced viewings of sporting events) how to pacify my time. And that is by scrutinizing the players.

Who has the most stickers on their helmets? Who has a weird last name? What does that tattoo say? What did he just mouth to the other player?

I figure, if other people are analyzing the plays, I can analyze the players just as well, and become just as adept. And YES. I tend to call their uniforms "outfits." And YES. I know what color Gatorade they're drinking before I know what direction they're running. And YES. Sometimes I end up noticing their junk.

But come on. I mean, they're wearing the tightest lower-half clothing next to ballet dancers. Things are played in slow motion. Knees run into things. Can you REALLY blame me when, during a silent moment, I pointed at the screen and shouted, "PENIS!"


3. Ads

Like I said before, I was the only one with a vested interest in the commercials at this party. I was fine with it. It did mean that people thought I was a little bit nutty because as soon as the game stopped, I would completely zone out of any conversation, mid-sentence and stare at the screen. That wasn't really the worst of it.

I was getting food in the kitchen when the ads TOTALLY SNUCK UP ON ME, so I ran back into the living room. I'm standing there, deep in analytical thought, when the host just goes, "You ok, Emily?"
I had been staring, frozen. My brow furrowed, my lips moving, holding a pair of tongs with chicken still in them. While everyone sat, chatting happily around me. They all turned to stare. Joe whispered, "She's in advertising."



Oh well. So much for being impressive. At least Joe's friends know who they're really dealing with now.

Schmo Day

If you have seen a weather map of the United States in the past 24 hours, you have seen it: From left to right there was California, a giant white blob, and Maine. Work was as unceremoniously canceled as Arrested Development. (Fox made a huge mistake.)

It's a great day to watch this.

Johnny Depp Is Not Attractive.

I've mentioned it before on this blog, but I've decided it needs it's own post.

It's true: I do not like Johnny Depp. Here--take this paper bag and breathe into it. Put your head between your knees. Everything's going to be ALL RIGHT, just CALM DOWN. Go take a nap. Come back when you're ready.

Yesterday I saw a brief interview on some Hollywood gossip show in which they talked to Johnny Depp.

Let me describe a man for you:
-unwashed hair
-tinted glasses inside
-goatee
-orange



Which of these qualities EXACTLY, is the one that everyone flocks to? I JUST. DON'T. GET IT. Except for his strange, milky orange glow, the man is colorless. All washed out and bland-looking. He has no personality as a human. His voice is as unilayered as his skin tone. He looks like he is on drugs. If that is attractive, then Jim Bruer is the next Hollywood hunk.



And yet YOU ALL find him hummina-hummina-hummina gorgeous. Women AND men! Johnny Depp is the only man that I consistently hear from straight guys that they find him attractive. It's as if all straight dudes in the world got together and said, "we have to maintain our heterosexuality in the eyes of others, but HOT DAMN that grey-skinned man and his unwashed hair is just the sexiest fella we've ever seen. Can we all agree to publicly call him hot but still act weird about it being gay if we sit next to each other when we watch his movies?"

At the very least, it just irks me that people consider him to be universally attractive. As if, OF COURSE the man is hot, and everyone everywhere thinks so.

I've been asked, "Okay, so then who would you consider to be universally attractive?" And I find myself flabbergasted. "I don't know...just about anyone ELSE in Hollywood?" I want to shout. But instead I give them Brad Pitt, Harrison Ford, Robert Redford, Tom Cruise, Patrick Swayze, Denzel Washington, George Clooney.

"Yes," they reply, "but those were all in their heyday. Who, right now, might be YOUR Johnny Depp?"

And I realize that I can't answer them. Do we have no household name, A-list, Universally Attractive Man anymore? Ryan Reynolds was People's Sexiest Man Alive for 2010. Is that it? While I agree the man is good-looking, he's not really buzzed about at the water cooler. His name is not synonymous with Attractive Male. Like, no one ever says, "I know I'm no Ryan Reynolds, but we belong together."

Next in line may be Hugh Jackman. But while he seems sweet, there's something about him that makes him not quite Ken doll-like. Patrick Dempsey? McMaybe.

I'm looking for someone who is UNDENIABLY attractive to every single person he meets. And while I love ya, Future Husband John Krasinski, that is a schnoz.

Or is my issue something deeper? Maybe it's to do with Depp's total lack of off-screen interest. I'm very critical of attractiveness when it doesn't come with a great personality to match it. Leonardo DiCaprio was a Hollywood hunk since Titanic. But the man has always dated models, which to me just screams "pretty but boring."

Maybe the reason I can't think of the Universally Attractive Man is because I don't CARE about those men. Thing is, that guy is also 100% unattainable. I'm not going to see him in a bar and win him over with my sarcastic arm punch and self-plucked eyebrows. So why bother to get weak in the knees for HIM?

I suppose I've just always been realistic. Why fall for the guy because he looks like Stretch Armstrong? (Ooh, speaking of which, maybe Aaron Eckhart? Hmm. Too blond.) Why not look for the guy with his head out of the clouds? After all, that's the only way he'd ever see me.

Oh no wait. WAIT. Jon Hamm. Jon Hamm, everybody. Nevermind, it's Jon Hamm.