Levi Johnston, aka, The Boy Who Knocked Up Sarah Palin’s Daughter, went and did an interview with Vanity Fair and it’s all anybody can talk about today. Here’s a link so you’ll be in the know when someone says, “Wasn’t that tacky?”
p.s. It was.
p.p.s. Is he a looker or what? (in a he’s-too-young-for-anyone-who-reads-this-blog kind of way)
Fall. It’s creeping up on us, folks. The air here in Georgia no longer frizzes your hair two seconds after going outside (it takes a few minutes now, which, my friends – is progress). And, all around us there’s talk of football. Gone are our lazy beach/lake days and white pants, and here for a while are Football Friday nights and College Football Saturdays. Oh, and sweaters, which I need to shop for, by the way, because they are super cute this season. I like anything that is baggy and covers my thighs. Hello Fall fashion…we will be great friends.
Men all across the USA will be glued to their televisions (or their stadium seat) for the duration of the season. So, before we all become disenchanted with our team of choice, while all of our teams are still currently undefeated, let me just shout, “Go Dawgs!” for my fellow Georgia Bulldog fans.
Sidenote: UGA lost QB Matthew Stafford and RB/freak-of-nature Knowshon Moreno to the NFL, so I’m not expecting much this year. I do, however, need and expect them to beat South Carolina. Because that’s a tough one to live down ’round here.
I realize that not everyone is a huge dork like I am, and sets their DVR to record Senator Ted Kennedy’s funeral…so here’s the link to the best eulogy I’ve ever heard (and I grew up in a funeral home, remember?).
And if you don’t have time to watch it, read a part of it below:
“He was not perfect, far from it. But my father believed in redemption and he never surrendered. Never stopped trying to right wrongs, be they the results of his own failings or of ours.
But today I’m simply compelled to remember Ted Kennedy as my father and my best friend. When I was 12 years old I was diagnosed with bone cancer and a few months after I lost my leg, there was a heavy snowfall over my childhood home outside of Washington D.C. My father went to the garage to get the old Flexible Flyer and asked me if I wanted to go sledding down the steep driveway. And I was trying to get used to my new artificial leg and the hill was covered with ice and snow and it wasn’t easy for me to walk. And the hill was very slick and as I struggled to walk, I slipped and I fell on the ice and I started to cry and I said “I can’t do this.” I said, “I’ll never be able to climb that hill.” And he lifted me in his strong, gentle arms and said something I’ll never forget. He said “I know you’ll do it, there is nothing you can’t do. We’re going to climb that hill together, even if it takes us all day.”
Sure enough, he held me around my waist and we slowly made it to the top, and, you know, at age 12 losing a leg pretty much seems like the end of the world, but as I climbed onto his back and we flew down the hill that day I knew he was right. I knew I was going to be OK. You see, my father taught me that even our most profound losses are survivable and it is what we do with that loss, our ability to transform it into a positive event, that is one of my father’s greatest lessons. He taught me that nothing is impossible.”
-Ted Kennedy, Jr.
Don’t you hate it when you fall in love with a restaurant and then you switch jobs (or get laid of, whatever) and it isn’t located near you anymore? Then, if you ever happen to be close to it (because of a meeting or errand), you have to go there and get your fix, right?
That’s exactly what I did yesterday. And even though the line was ridiculously long, I waited anyway – because, well, I needed that pecan chicken salad with a side of veggies. Need.ed.
Whilst in line, I overheard a conversation between two non-working ladies dressed in tennis gear. And when I say dressed, I mean decked out. Tennis Lady #1 had on an all white top and skirt combo, complete with a white visor and K-Swiss shoes. She was carrying the Totally Monogram PM Louis Vuitton purse. Tennis Lady #2 had on an hot pink zip-up top, hot pink skirt, K-Swiss shoes and a white Sea Island hat. She was carrying this gray patent leather Valentino purse. Both had huge wedding rings (naturally) and diamond stud earrings that were at least 2 carats. I realize that I sound like a stalker, but I did wait in line behind them for 10 minutes. And I didn’t have my BlackBerry with me…you understand.
Anyway, the conversation went a little something like this:
Tennis Lady #1: Did you think it was fair that she was selected to play next weekend?
Tennis Lady #2: Absolutely not. She does not deserve a spot, in my opinion.
Tennis Lady #1: Exactly! She is terrible at the net. And we have all earned our spots. I worked hard for this. I will tell her that, too.
Tennis Lady #2: Maybe he just felt sorry for her. You are so right about the net. I couldn’t play with her, she isn’t aggressive enough.
Tennis Lady #1: Well, she’s scared of the ball hitting her nose.
Tennis Lady #2: Nose job or deviated septum?
Tennis Lady #1: Both.
I love a good trash-talking session, even if I don’t know anyone involved. I guess it’s the small town in me.
“For all my years in public life, I have believed that America must sail toward the shores of liberty and justice for all. There is no end to that journey, only the next great voyage. We know the future will outlast all of us, but I believe that all of us will live on in the future we make.”
-Senator Edward M. Kennedy
If you’re an emotional cutter, like myself, you can see the tribute video from the 2008 Democratic Convention here.
The offender: Alexis Bledel
The item(s) in question: Dress and shoes, worn during the Teen Choice Awards
My thoughts: First of all, I don’t care how many “Traveling Pants” she wears…to me, Alexis Bledel will always be the fast-talking, neurotic in an adorable way, straight-A student, Rory Gilmore. But back to the clothes. I’m sure this is a vintage dress, and I respect vintage most of the time. This time, however, it just looks like an old bridesmaid’s dress that someone gave to Goodwill because they never thought they (or anyone else, let’s be real here) would wear again.
The solution: Choose something that does not make these three thoughts immediately pop into one’s head: 1) Wow, that’s blue. 2) Um, that doesn’t fit. 3) Did she change outfits and forget to switch shoes?
Rants and things that annoy me…
From Vogue:
Before Jenny Sanford came along, the options for wronged political wives were pretty poor. You could suffer silently (see Silda Wall Spitzer), deny everything (hello, Hillary), or make catty asides about the harlot who caused your husband to stray (Elizabeth Edwards).
Then came Jenny Sanford. Early this past summer, just as the world was savoring the news that yet another conservative Republican politician had tumbled from grace in a manner worthy of the best French farce—“hiking the Appalachian Trail” will never have the same meaning—there emerged an unlikely hero in the mess down in South Carolina. Petite, clear-eyed, strong-willed, pious without being smug, smart without being caustic, Jenny Sanford became an unlikely heroine by telling the simple truth. Her children were the most important thing in the world to her. She had kicked the lying bum out of the house when he refused to give up his mistress, but marriage is complex, life is hard, and if he wanted to try and make the marriage work, the door was open.
Continue reading this article
Short post, be forewarned. Mondays…they’re a ___.
I was out of town this weekend, doing a little wedding attending and beachin’ it up. While lying on the beach, my friend Nancy Margaret’s husband (Bob) hurled something from the ocean up to us on shore. None of us moved or showed any concern about said flying object because we were pretty far away. It got closer and closer, and then WHAM: it hit me on the left thigh.
What was it? This. And yes, it was full. His intentions were good, though, as he was trying to rid our coast of litter.
Perhaps Bob should give the NFL a whirl. Might as well – I hear the Eagles will take anybody.
While talking to a girlfriend this morning, I remembered a time that we bashed her ex’s new girlfriend’s name. You might have to reread that last line. She didn’t have an ordinary name, you know, not one you hear every day. And, we couldn’t call her ugly (because she wasn’t) and we couldn’t talk about what a terrible person she was (because we didn’t really know her), so what did we do to insult her? We said, “Seriously. Get a real name.”
If you watched Sex and the City, you will remember an episode where Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda do something similar with Mr. Big’s new gal. It makes me chuckle, so I’ve included it below, so you can, too:
Carrie: There is no way that the love that I had with Big is the same thing he has with Natasha.
Miranda: Natasha? When’d you stop calling her the “Idiot Stick Figure With No Soul?”
Carrie: About three weeks ago when I saw them at Cafe M. He was holding her hand and smiling and…I finally got it. They’re happy, slash, we’re over. And it was okay.
Samantha: Natasha. What a bullshit name.
Miranda: Totally.
Charlotte: Stupid!
Carrie: Yeah, it’s complete bullshit.
SATC fan bonus: If you loved that season finale (called Ex and the City) as much as I did, here’s a clip from it.
thetightropeblog.com 
