Exclamation point! Sounds hang-onto-your-pants exciting, no? Thanks to all
three of you - clearly my readership is just as skilled at rule-flaunting as I am - for allowing me the opportunity to talk about myself even
more by answering the questions you asked
here. I'm throwing in a few of my own, since it's totally normal to conduct Barbara Walters style interviews with yourself, complete with flattering lighting and softball questions. So without further ado . . .
"Is the 'Sex and the City' sequel rumor true?" courtesy of me & apparently everyone else who is more interested in this than asking me questions about myself (??)
The situation isn't as clear as we or Kim Cattrall had hoped, apparently. See here. My guess is that Carrie er, Sarah Jessica Parker is either (1) holding out for more money; and/or (2) trying to drum up more press about a sequel that is clearly inevitable given the money the first one made. More news on this as I find it.
As little as possible. Perfection is a Sunday afternoon on the couch reading at least 3 newspapers, 2 novels, and 3 magazines while the Anonymous Husband watches some professional sport.
Truth be told, in addition to the usual family & friends stuff, I am often lured from my couch for one of two yuppie pursuits - food or the arts**. The AH and I are big eaters, as long-time readers will recall, and tend to frame both weekends and travel around the opportunity to check out new restaurants. Occasionally we'll even cook - meaning I twiddle around a boiling pot of water and complain about how much I miss In-n-Out while the AH actually makes good food. In fact, just last night I made a pumpkin cheesecake, and that isn't only because I'm a dessert fiend.
*"arts" being liberally construed by me to mean anything from catching up on Tivo'd "Real Housewives . . ." to going to the movies to seeing an actual play with, you know, thespians and such. It is construed by the AH to mean "anytime the Big 12 is playing a football game."
If I had, say, the trophy wife existence I so richly deserve, I'd resume my childhood and college-years hobby of competitive horseback riding. I miss it every day, but have some of those Life Goals (like seeing a bit more of the world) to attain before making the considerable time investment required to get back into showing horses. That being said, if anyone is looking to give away a pony, please contact me immediately at legallyblondemel at yahoo dot com. Thanks very much.
Although I tend to talk about Pretty Things on these fair web pages, in actual fact I'm far more inclined to save up for a fantastic meal or travel or, you know, an interesting experience. For example, I just bought tickets to the David Sedaris reading here instead of the J. Crew cashmere that's on-sale and causing my AmEx veritable palpitations. This is not intended in any show-offy manner, or no more than I usually intend, but rather just to say it isn't all about the Pretty here at the Pretty. Not entirely. Just mostly. I'm very grateful for the wonderful adventures and opportunities I have.
"What is your favorite beauty product?", courtesy of the appropriately, wonderfully titled Happy Daily.
It's been a while since I've complained about my eyelashes, hasn't it? 10 minutes, at least? It's one of my favorite things to complain about - and that's a long list o' favorites, dears - but I've had less of an opportunity since employing the Shu Uemura eyelash curler. Shu Uemura, not any other brand. Believe the hype.
You can keep your 34Ds - OK, that's a bald-faced lie, as I would stomp across a field of babies for those as well - so long as I can flutter actual lashes in daintily feminine manner. Or as the AH might put it, "Do you have something stuck in your eyes?"
"What do you miss most about our dear home state?" from my fabulous blog friend and fellow "The Office"-fiend "The Shabby Princess".
This is nearly disqualified for being an unfair question, since anyone who has actually been to California knows how incredible it is. What a weird, wonderful, outrageously gorgeous place it is.
So I'm going to pull a sappy choice - cue the John Mayer music - and say I miss my friends* the most, which has the added benefit of being true. I can hop on a plane and get my beach fix in anytime, but I cannot replace you girls.
*Should these wenches start misbehaving, I reserve the right to immediately change my answer to In-n-Out Burger. And the 15th Street beach in Del Mar. And not having to dress around the weather.
"Death is NOT an option - Jon Hamm or John Slattery?" because I'm writing the question and can therefore brazenly re-write the rules.
Um, yes.**
**Love you, AH.
"Why don't you post pretty pictures of how you've decorated your house for Halloween/ Thanksgiving etc. like so many other bloggettes do?" courtesy of me.
Um, because I am so very busy seeking out the best of retail for you, my readers, that I've simply run out of time to post about my homemaker-y skills. Yeah, that's it.
So truth is, I'm more than a little afraid of stores like Michael's (a craft store for you non-Southerners/Texans) and things like bedazzled turkey tablescapes. I may watch the occasional Martha for comforting entertainment purposes, but I am just a failure when it comes to being crafty in the non-diabolical sense. If you want help with schemes like "How do I passive-aggressively annoy my co-worker for my own personal entertainment?" or "How do I pry the television remote from my husband's cold, unfeeling grasp without declaring all-out war?", then I'm your girl; otherwise, you're on your own with the sequined gravy boats.
This isn't to say I don't admire the heck out of you crafty types, and it's not that I'm opposed to a tastefully crafty home. Cold-hearted as I may be, I'm all about the Christmas decorations myself - it's just that my own personal holiday decor is straight outta Pottery Barn, SG (sans glitter) style.
********
Anything else? Should we talk more travel & food here? So long as it doesn't involve glittering gourd decor, I'm open to your suggestions . . . but back to our regularly scheduled retail in the meantime . . .
