Hi, we are vacuous morons!

I will not watch the new season of The Hills, which starts tonight. Call BS on me all you want. It ain’t happening. My television is officially a no LC, no Speidi zone.

I didn’t watch the show in the beginning – I only tuned in to see who the hell the people popping up ad nauseam in my Us Magazine were. So two seasons and the loss of 100,000 brain cells later, there I was with it indefinitely programmed into my DVR. I had become hooked.

But finally after watching one too many eps of LC and her idiot friends flailing about Paris and LA exchanging their vapid banter and engaging in the most boring fakery drama ever, I decided I had enough. I mean really, if I give Speidi more viewership, the terrorists will have won. So I will not watch the premiere of the new season tonight. I’m done. I really mean it! Stop the madness!

Now if I can make LC and Heidi stop “desinging” those horrid clothes, and make Heidi stop making that ear-splitting noise she calls singing, we’d be all set.

So here’s what was up with me and mine this past week:

Solo Olympics. So I mentioned that my boyfriend is in Beijing. He’s there with a buddy of his to see the Olympics. He is very excited. People are asking me why I didn’t go. Answer’s simple - I’d love to go to China. But if I go, I wanna see China, not 50 million tourists from all over the world.

A adore Chinese culture - I love Asian art, I adore films from China and Hong Kong (Zhang Yimou is my favorite director), I mean - I have Chinese characters tattooed to my shoulder for goodnessakes. Of course I want to go to China. I want to go and immerse myself in the place. But I have a feeling that once inside the Olympic venues, you may as well be in Atlanta or Sydney or or Newark or Timbuktu. That’s way too much time and cash to spend on an inorganic experience, in my opinion. So my boyfriend will just have to go again with me another time.

It’s also good that I’m not there, because I tend to do things like jump up and down and scream while watching sporting events. The athletes might not appreciate that live. It’s much better done from my couch. So is the drooling over the swimmers bodies. Good googly woogly!

So my boyfriend snagged tickets to see soccer, track and field, beach volleyball and, synchronized swimming. In honor of the last one, I bring you this classic:

Sad puppy. So whenever my boyfriend goes out of town, our dog really misses him. A lot. It’s really, really sweet but sad too. For the first few days, he sort of looks for him. He looks up whenever he hears a car door close outside, waiting for his dad to come in the door. Then the he of mopes and pouts. Then he gets CRAZY clingy with me. Follows me whenever I leave the room, rubs against my legs like a cat as I sit on the couch. demands - not suggests - that I pet and play with him, not taking no for an answer. So anyway, he’s not happy right now. He’ll get over it a bit in a few days. I hope.

She’s having a baby. And so is she. And so is she… So Facebook reconnected me with yet another girlfriend who is pregnant. By my count, the number of my girlfriends who are pregnant or who gave birth this year is in the double digits. Well into the double digits. Which is wonderful - I’m extremely happy for all of them.

But I am more than a little afraid that I will soon lose the ability to relate with most of my friends. I like kids. Well, some of them. The cute ones who don’t scream. I’m totally not sure if I want any. Which is ok, because I’m not altogether sure I ought to have any. I mean, I get frustrated when my dog whines too much. I can’t imagine how I’d cope with a screaming child.

Tomorrow I’m having lunch with a girlfriend who is pregnant. Then later this week I’m having dinner with four of my girlfriends - three of whom are pregnant and one who just had twins. It will be fantastic to see them, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to contribute to the conversation. I really can’t relate to motherhood. Or pending motherhood. The closest thing I have to that is doggie parenthood. And I think if I compare my dog to my friends’ kids I’ll offend. So I won’t do that.

Who’s That Girl? And where’s my theatre? So I mentioned that yesterday was the 50th birthday of pop goddess Madonna. and that I’d be listening to Madonna music all weekend in celebration thereof. Well, this morning while walking my pooch, Who’s That Girl came on my iPod, and I had this vivid memory of going to see the movie, in the theatre, with my friend Rayna at the Americana Theatre in Southfield, Michigan.

I have to explain: one of my favorite eras of my tweenage life was when my mom let me walk to the movies with Rayna. Because this required crossing a major traffic thoroughfare - Greenfield Road - this was big. It also meant leaving our little village of Oak Park and crossing into the city of Southfield. Again, big. But having the ability to go to the movies was my first little bit of independence. (We still weren’t allowed to go to Northland, the nearby mall, by ourselves. But we’d sneak and ride our bikes there anyway. We thought we were little badasses. I got caught once by my mom, and it was not a pretty scene.)

As an aside, I just looked on the interwebs and found out that my beloved Americana Theatre has been demolished!! No!! That breaks my heart! I saw so many life-changing films there! Like Flashdance! And Lost Boys! And Goonies! And Breakin’! And E.T.! I saw Spaceballs at the Northland Theatre, though. At least that still stands, although it’s closed. Oh, and when we were feeling really adventurous, we’d walk all the way up to the Towne Theatre on Greenfield and 11 Mile. Then we’d go to the Burger King next door to eat. Guess what? That’s been demolished too. Where do people in the old hood go to the movies now? So sad…

Slutty, slutty, slutty. OK, I finally watched Project Runway on the DVR. (The Olympics got in the way of watching it live.) This is the first time my favorite outfit won! Really, I thought I was totally out of touch with Heidi and Michal and Nina, because I didn’t understand what the heck they’ve been doing all season.

But Keith’s winning outfit this week was awesome. Seriously, after the model walked the runway I hit rewind to watch it again. Loved, loved, loved it! (Even though stupid Kenley helped him make it. It was so tacky when she laughed at Daniel on the runway during judging! I think she may be evil). The dress will be worn by Brooke Shields on an episode of Lipstick Jungle (am I the only person who liked Cashmere Mafia more? Why did that get canceled? I hate Lipstick Jungle. And not just because Audrey from 24 is on it. I did hate Audrey, though. Ugh. Please 24 writers, don’t bring her back.)

Anyway, back to PR - what was with Brooke and her comment to Korto: “And the touch of ethnicity is delightful!” Um, Brooke, don’t speak off script. That comment is unacceptable in any situation.

And why is Blayne (with his ugly-shorts-outfit-that-looks-like-its-from-Froever-21 making self) trying to change Tim Gunn’s catch phrase from “Make it work” to “Holla atcha boy?” (Or as Tim says it, “Holler at your boy!”) Stop it. Just stop.

But MIchael Kors had the line of the night about Kelli’s skimpy design: “I mean, Hel-lo! Sluttly, slutty, slutty!” Oh I love this show!

Oh, and click here to see the guys at Project Rungay break down how fierce Nina Garcia is. Seriously - girlfriend is simply fabulous!

Here’s what’s on my material lust list this week:

I can’t help but wonder: should I buy this dress? Ok, remember when I wrote about the dress Miranda wore in the Sex and the City movie, and how I had to have it?

Guess what? I found it!! And it’s actually affordable.

I’m in a quandary, though. After a season of buying way too much stuff, I am under a self-imposed shopping ban until the fall, when I am allowed only to buy a new winter hat and a new pair of winter boots. BUT on the other hand, I have my law school reunion coming up in October. And I think I really need to wear this:

Oh, what to do? Good news is I already have the gold shoes to go with it, as well as a cold cuff bracelet and an adorable little clutch that I bought at a second-hand shop. I’d need a belt though. And earrings. Maybe these:

Do you know where you’re going to? Or where to find this hat? Ok, back to that winter hat. I know the exact hat that I want. I just don’t know where to find it.

I saw it in one of my favorite films, Mahogany, in the scene where Diana Ross went on a modeling go-see in Rome. She wore the ivory hat and a fabulous matching ivory wraparound cape.

I. Need. That. Hat! I’ve been looking high and low for it. I’d need one in wool or felt, in either ivory camel to match my coat. If you’ve seen it, please, please send me a link!

Schoolgirl chic. So during my trip to Michigan, my always-stylish sister wore a white shirt under a burgundy sweater vest when we went errand running with my mom. Her outfit was adorable and I secretly vowed to copy it. Never would I have ever looked at a sweater vest before that. Now I can’t live without one. Or five.

On the plane ride home, my InStyle magazine reinforced my need for the look:

I’m not paying $300 for this one, that’s for sure. My first shopping stop will be the H&M. then I may move up to TJ Maxx and Filene’s Basement.

Oh, yeah - the shopping ban. Damn! Well, maybe I’ll make an exception for this.

Over a (Crate and) Barrel. I love entertaining, whether it’s throwing dinner parties, movie nights, cocktail parties or brunches. I also love home decorating. So I’m in the hunt for a new dining room set (our current set is 7 years old, and came from Kmart. It has served me well, but it’s way too small (it seats 6 people but really should seat 4) and old and uncomfy for our long-term purposes. Time for a grown-up dining room set.

I found the one that I want - it is perfect, but alas, a bit too pricey. Meet the Cabria:

My boyfriend and I spotted it in the local Crate and Barrel. It’s everything that I am looking for in a dining table: rectangular with a expanding leaf; legs at the outer corners so no one bangs a knee while sitting and the dog would have plenty of room to stretch out underneath (that’s his dinnertime napping spot); and a pretty, dark rustic wood (I don’t think I’ve seen mango wood furniture before - it’s really beautiful in person). I also like the cool way the legs are set on an angle.

The table itself isn’t so expensive at $700. The rub comes with getting the eight chairs to go with it (6 for every day, plus 2 more for when the table is extended), bringing the total to $2140 before taxes and delivery. *Sigh*. I could try to put some cash away each month. And maybe by then it’ll be on sale. We’ll see.

OK, so y’all know I am afraid of the interwebs. Yeah, I blog and all that. And, as some of you know, I also happen to make my living in the communications industry. Meaning that my name - my full, real name - has appeared every day on the internet for the last 8 years. As well as my work email addresses, and sometimes even my work phone numbers. At my last job, my picture was up there as well. Still, despite that - or maybe because of it - the internet scares the hell out of me. (At one point while at my last job, I started getting fan mail from prisoners. Not happy my picture was up on the ‘Net. Not at all.)

Anyway, I had no desire to go on Facebook, voluntarily putting personal info about myself out there. But what happens? All my friends had to go and get all cool and hip and whatnot, and next thing I know I can’t see pictures of their kids unless I sign up. *Sigh*. Fine. I signed up. But I still didn’t use my full name - I don’t care what the Facebook rules say! I don’t want my mom or boss or whoever to find me on there.

So guess what? Almost everyone I friggin’ know is on Facebook. People my age. Seriously - my BOSS is on Facebook! Seriously! Crazy. I had no idea.

And I didn’t realize that how friggin’ addictive it is! I was on for hours last night just trying to figure out what all the crap on there means! The wall, the poking, the throwing of sheep at people, the cupcake giving, the music and videos - I had no idea all that stuff was on there! Really, I need to call my 12-year-old niece and goddaughter today and have her explain to me how to use it.

I think I at least figured out the music part - and it’s so cool! My favorite is how it tells you when artists you like are touring in your area. How brilliant is that? Too, too cool.

I swear, I think my plan for spending most of the weekend outside has been shot to hell. I’m totally going to be on Facebook all friggin’ day. At least my wireless internet extends to the back yard. I’ll Facebook in the sun.

I’m telling you now, though, if I don’t know you, I’m not adding you as a friend. Because you could be a scary person from prison.

Tomorrow Madonna turns 50. To celebrate a half century of the Material lady’s existence on the planet, I’ll be rockin’ her tunes all weekend. Probably longer. (My BF is en route to Beijing for 10 days, so I have the run of the entertainment system! And luckily, my dog loves Madonna too. His favorite track is Crazy For You).

My real playlist includes all 57 Madonna tracks on my iPod, from Holiday to 4 Minutes. The retrospective rotation below is but a sample of the full playlist.

Unlike her recent concerts, I will include the oldies and goodies as well as more recent stuff. Because the new stuff is good, but the old stuff is priceless.

Borderline, Madonna. My favorite Madonna tune to this day. This video made me want to BE her. I wore a rag-turned-into-a-head-bow thing every single day of the 7th grade. I had one in every color.

Causing a Commotion, Madonna. “I got the moves, baby. You got the motion.” I like to play this at the gym.

Angel, Madonna. I hadn’t thought about this song in years, then last fall when Bobbi came to visit me, it played while we were perusing the DVF dresses at the Urban Chic store in Georgetown. I’ve played it at least every couple of weeks since then. A rediscovered treasure!

Human Nature, Madonna. “I’m not your b*tch, don’t hang your sh*t on me.” Tell em’!

Live To Tell, Madonna. Another favorite. I like how she wrote it as a present to Sean Penn for his film At Close Range. I have read entirely too much People magazine in my life.

Frozen, Madonna. In my opinion, Ray of Light is the best album Madonna ever made. It was innovative, different than anything she did before, infectious and beautiful. (The album also basically single-handedly got me through Bar Exam Summer, 1998 ) This is also my favorite Madonna video. Simply cool.

Deeper and Deeper, Madonna. One of my favorite Madonna tracks ever. Erotica was a much better album than the critics gave her credit for.

Justify My Love, Madonna. Awesome, sexy song. And it’s written by Lenny Kravitz!

Open Your Heart, Madonna. One of my ultimate ‘feel good’ songs for cheering me out of a bad mood.

Sky Fits Heaven, Madonna. I play this song whenever I embark on a new adventure like starting a new job (or career!) or moving to a different city. So I’ve played it a lot! “Traveling down this road / Watching the signs as I go / I think I’ll follow my heart / It’s a very good place to start.”

Into the Groove, Madonna. Omigod, like, you guys!! Desperately Seeking Susan!!! One of the best. Movies. EVER! (If I find out that Bopp and my other friends have never seen this one either, I’m bursting into tears!)

Music, Madonna. This album got me through J-School. Really. Hearing this song makes me picture the corner of 116th and Broadway.

Cherish, Madonna. The cutest song she ever recorded. “Give me faith, give me joy, my boy! I will always cherish you!”

Like A Prayer, Madonna. Tim, this song is awwwesome!

Take A Bow, Madonna. Madonna + Babyface = doublecool.

Get Together, Madonna. When I first moved to Washington, DC, I was unemployed on sabbatical. For over three months. I got awful cabin fever, so after a few hours of job hunting each day, I’d go to the gym. I’d walk there (a 2.5 mile trek), work out for an hour, and walk back home. And I would listen to this song every single day. Love it. It really cheered me up at a time that I was feeling very doubtful of self. Oh, and I got really buff arms.

This crap makes my blood boil. People wonder why some girls feel bad about themselves. It’s because people are idiots.

I was a bit peeved at the whole Beyoncé L’Oreal ad brouhaha bubbled up. For those who missed it, a new L’Oreal haircolor ad came out last week showing the singer looking about as washed out as Photoshopably possible. Seriously, from the shots I saw on the internet, it would make anyone go: “Oh, who’s the blond white girl? She’s cute! Oh, waitaminute - it’s BEY!”

Some people were outraged. I was just sort of sad. I mean, I’ve already known that color consciousness was alive and well in this country, living as that little, lesser known cousin of racism that no one in the family talks about. People of many races all around the world - the USA included - pay big cash for skin lightening products. (I personally prefer to lie out in the sun until I’m the color of a Hersey’s dark chocolate, but that’s just me). And I’ve always known that the lighter-is-better idea has been pushed by Madison Avenue forever. Usually it’s a bit more subtle, but hey!

L’Oreal denied whitewashing Mrs. Z. I didn’t know for sure if something fishy was afoot or not, so I let it go.

So anyway, I get my Essence magazine in the mail yesterday, and I see the ad for the first time in print, as opposed to online. And I think, “Oh, this isn’t bad. It’s fine! Beyoncé looks totally normal. She is a lighter sistah, after all, and she’s always done the blonde haircolor. Her hair looks a bit more blonde than usual, but it’s a haircolor ad, for goodness sakes! I’m officially no longer offended by L’Oreal.”

Oh, well guess what? L’Oreal apparently made a DARKER VERSION OF THE AD FOR ESSENCE!!!! What the hell kind of effed up horse crap is that?!?! The Beyoncé that is brown enough for the black folks is too dark for the rest of America? Here is the side-by-side comparison from Jezebel:

Oh. I. Am. Pissed. OFF! I have used Feria haircolor for years. Not anymore! Hello Miss Clairol! Idiots!

This whole thing comes on the heels of me being totally pissed off at China for telling a cute little girl with an angelic voice that she’s not cute enough to sing at the Olympics, so they hire a little girl they say is cuter to lip sync. Saying it’s a matter of national pride. Yeah, what a thing to be proud of!! Idiots. Can you imagine how that little girl, who thought she was going to sing at the opening ceremonies, felt when she was told someone else was going and moving their lips to her voice? What the hell is wrong with people?!?!

You, little girl, are beautiful, and let no one tell you otherwise.

And all you brown skinned little girls, you are gorgeous too! Remember that people spend billions on tanning products. You get it for free. Work it! L’Oreal’s ad people can kiss my very brown bottom.

Oh, and this is the song I sang for my Dad. I dedicated it to my Mom too. I changed a couple of words to make it a bit more personal, but kept the gist. They really loved it, which is what matters.

I’m back from Michigan, having survived (barely) yet another crazy drama-filled get together with the family. I won’t get into the details. Suffice it to say that any doubt that I had about my family’s insanity have been laid to rest. (Clarification: My Mom and Dad are awesome. My siblings possess the crazy. I know I possess a little crazy too. I guess it skips a generation.) My Dad did manage to somehow have a happy birthday, so I’ll just be thankful for that.

But aside from the family tomfoolery that ensued, this was a tough, tough trip. When I arrived at my parents house, one of the first things that my mom said to me was: “Did you hear about Bernie Mac?”

Ugh. Damn. So sad!

My boyfriend and I were big fans of The Bernie Mac Show. The show was funny and well-written, but above all for me, I just liked Bernie Mac. He stood out from other comedians, actors, TV personalities and the like because he seemed absolutely genuine. Just seemed like a good guy. I always thought the way he took in his sister’s kids when she had drug issues was fantastic - he had the cash to send them somewhere or do something impersonal, but instead he chose to raise them. (He did put his sister’s drug habit and the shenanigans that ensured with the kids in the comedy act. But I think that is fair recompense, don’t you? Plus it was funny and hell. “Where you think you’re going?” “To get some milk and cuuhhh-kays.”)

50 years old. That is just insane. He’ll be missed.

Then, right before I went to bed last night, I heard about Isaac Hayes.

UGH! Damn!! So, so sad!!

Seriously, the Theme From Shaft is a national treasure. He deserved the Oscar he earned for that genius, and there has never been anything like the smoothness Isaac embodied. I’m so shocked and sad I don’t even know what to say.

And how cool was it that he had the sense of humor about himself to be Chef on South Park?! This scene is one of the most brilliant television moments of all time. He’ll be sorely, sorely missed. Ugh.

Dear John Edwards:

Damn. Damn. Damn, John Edwards. Damn.

I was all ready to head off for my weekend, and then this happened. So you know I have to comment about this crap.

Your little admission today pisses me off for three reasons:

(1) Democrats have enough problems. They are still recovering from all of Bill Clinton’s shenanigans. You were running for president. Is it so hard to adhere to this principle: Running for president? KEEP IT IN YOUR PANTS!! I mean, really. Really! Good grief!

(2) You are MARRIED to someone who, by all accounts, is a great lady. She’s battling cancer for the second time. The last thing she needs is this crap. If you don’t care about your country or your party, care about her, for goodness sake. Ugh.

(3) You single-handedly gave legitimacy to the friggin’ NATIONAL ENQUIRER! That is a crime. I mean really. Damn. Damn, John Edwards. Just Damn!

What does one call a place that is:

-allegedly the most dangerous city in the country;

-where the mayor is currently in jail; and

-where the the city council president pro tem is allegedly about to be indicted (for being “gangsta” as my mom puts it. My mom is so cute!) (Oh, and that same city council president pro tem has been in a bar fight, and she also allegedly threatened to shoot the mayor! Which she can’t do right now - because he’s in jail! Oh and she is also married to the friggin’ Chairman of the House Judiciary Committee! Don’t mess with sistah!)?

Ah, I call it home!

I’m going to Detroit this weekend to visit the fam. Ok, my family lives in the suburbs of Detroit, so the city’s shenanigans don’t affect them directly, but I went to college in Downtown Motown and spent a ton of time there, so I feel some ownership. When I think of Detroit I am equal parts sad, frustrated, wishful that things will improve, and glad that I got the hell out.

Anyway, here is my homebound-themed playlist:

Especially In Michigan, Red Hot Chili Peppers. “Double chins and bowling pins / Unholy Presbyterians / Land is full of medicine / I find it when I’m slipping in …into Michigan.”

Panic In Detroit, David Bowie. Oh, every trip home involves some sort of panic on my part.

Detroit Rock City, Kiss. What Detroit mix is complete without Kiss?

I Say A Little Prayer, Aretha Franklin. Any Detroit mix must include the Queen!

This Used To Be My Playground, Madonna. I’m feeling unusually sentimental about this trip for some reason, which is not like me. Maybe it’s because my parents are in the process of selling their house. It’s not the house I grew up in - we moved there when I was 15 - but I stayed home for college, so I did spend 7 years living there. Plus I’ve been going back to it for another 13 years, so it holds a lot of memories. Madonna is a Michigan girl. She feels me.

Still The Same, Bob Seger. Seger is to Michiganders what Springsteen is to everyone else.

ABC, Jackson 5. Mike and the boys aren’t from Detroit, but this is one of my favorite Motown tunes.

Reach Out, I’ll Be There, Four Tops. 100 percent Motown, and one of my favorite tunes ever recorded.

Family Affair, Sly & The Family Stone. This will be the first time in years I’ll be with all five of my siblings at the same time.

We Are Family, Sister Sledge. They are almost as cute as my four sisters. Almost.