From Yale to Jail

A thirty something Ivy Leaguer keeps the public aware of her opinions on things topical and struggles with multiple demons: alcohol, the law and remaining effortlessly hip in a changing world.

Tuesday, May 31, 2005

I Have Found My Second Husband

He is a little on the short side...

View from the Cage

This is one of my fav blogs. I should tell you a hamster writes it. He is adorable.

Saturday, May 28, 2005

Just Ways To Be Wicked...

Things I Want to Do Before Age 50:
  1. Be Nominated for an acting Oscar (Golden Globes don't Count)
  2. Be on Maxim's Top 100 (after a breast reduction)
  3. Write a bestseller
  4. Slap down Kimora Lee Simmons
  5. Have someone need me more than I need her

Monday, May 16, 2005

Don't look now...

Does he have purple lips? Posted by Hello

Here he is Camille baby...Charlie O'Connell, your Bachelor. Does he give you night sweats? It's just the menopause.

Et Tu, Camille?

I saw somewhere that culture critique/feminist Camille Paglia was a huge fan of The Bachelor. At its best, it is women in a cluster fuck fight over a dashing eligible male! A weekend storm took my satellite out, so I am watching it for the first time. Lucky me, it is the finale which has to have already been on for two hours. My husband isn't here and he keeps the Ativan locked up so I won't take the whole bottle. All I need is one little pill!!! This show is banal, creepy and makes a desperate mockery of courtship. Even so, if the actual bachelor were a catch, maybe it would be romantic, in a crass, whorish way. He is just so ugly. He looks like he smells like stale cheap beer. He is the kind of guy who buys draft beer at the bar because he says he likes the taste, but everyone knows why you buy Natural Light on tap. El Cheapo no es guapo. I wouldn't let him buy me a drink, and I used to drink with amputees and midgets. Let me find a picture of him for those of you who have been spared. I got ya!

David Sedaris sucks...

I have read these books since April 6.

Autobiography of a Fat Bride, Notaro, Laurie
Blow Fly, Cornwell, Patricia
Cheaters, Dickey, Eric Jerome
Children Playing Before A Statue Of Hercules, Sedaris, David
Dark Horse, Hoag, Tami
Depraved, Glatt, John
Elizabeth and Leicester, Jenkins, Elizabeth
Fashionistas, Messina, Lynn
Heart Full Of Lies, Rule, Ann
Holidays on Ice, Sedaris, David
Me Talk Pretty One Day, Sedaris, David
Milk in My Coffee, Dickey, Eric Jerome
Mim Warner's Lost Her Cool, Messina, Lynn
Royal Babylon, Shaw, Karl
Running With Scissors, Burroughs, Augusten
She's Come Undone, Lamb, Wally
The Clothes They Stood Up in and the Lady in the Van, Bennett, Alan
The Royal House of Monaco, Glatt, John

Thursday, May 12, 2005

And without the munchkins...

My sister found it amusing that a poster doubted that I had been a huge drunkard and doper. Honey, I was like Judy Garland without the talent.

A Fine Romance

My husband and I are both in bed with a cold, but I made my escape to my PC. We are a marvelous couple with a faux antique finish. The way we bicker you would swear we had been married since I was in an incubator, but it will be three years June 10! Before I crawled to the computer, we were watching a movie. Tracy and Hepburn were on screen and I asked him if he was familiar with either. He, of course, did not know their names. He is 59. I ask questions like that just to annoy myself. All he could say was that Kate needed a sandwich. Arrgggh! He forgot my name once too...left a message on the machine to Carol, his ex-wife. If she didn't look like a pock marked wrinkled Linda Blair when her head is spinning and spitting pea soup in the Exorcist, I might be jealous. Ok, enough for now, back to bed.

Tuesday, May 10, 2005

You're So Money and You Don't Even Know It

My sister keeps yelling at me because I do not update my blog often enough. I have a lot to say when posting comments on the blogs of others. I can spend twenty minutes at Conversations about Famous People (I have never learned how to link without posting the whole URL. Please leave instructions in the "Comments" section.) I just do not much to say about myself right now. I am not quite comfortably numb. I haven't had a drink in a while but my rainbow combination of psychotropics gives my psyche a pedicure. Sloughs off the rough edges. In the 12 and 12 of AA, a line addresses losing your personality by submitting to a higher power. Something along the lines of becoming like "the hole in the donut". God, sober drunks love their donuts. The simile is no accident. I have submitted, not to God, or AA, but to pharmacology. I have lost my effervescence. I have been an Ivy League slut, addict, fascist, liberal, alcoholic, stripper (one amateur night-hey, it counts! You try removing a thong in front of fifty people in four inch heels while drunk!), housewife, psycho...but all my books have been written by someone else. When I was wheeling around the country drunk and looking for a fix in a fifee piece, I was exciting and excited. As much as I may know it is not true, I still believe there is something glittering and glamorous about being wasted by 10am. A mess, but I came to each morning thinking, no, knowing, that anything could happen.

Wednesday, May 04, 2005

At least he wasn't wearing his area code...

Scotty the Body was axed from American Idol tonight. I have to wonder if voters snatched him from Paula Abdul's bed. He does like an ethnic woman...his baby mama is a woman of colour. He used to beat her with a telephone. Not a cell phone, an "old school" phone. Like a typical black woman, a la Shar Jackson. she hated him until she thought she might get some bucks. Back to Scotty. Paula couldn't have been advising him on wardrobe like she did Corey Clark because I know she reads my blog. She knows NO ONE wears Burberry anymore. You have to make goody bags, complete with crack smoking kits, out of the purses to make homeless people carry them. Unless there was some Chore Boy stuffed in the pocket of that Burberry shirt Scott had on, I don't see why he would sport it...ah, a huge tartan mystery!

Sunday, May 01, 2005

Kiddie Porn:In Denim!

Just when I thought nothing could annoy me as much as SJP dancing in khakis....I assume my dear readers have seen Joss Stone's commercial for the GAP. She sings, she dances, she advertises white jeans. However, the camera keeps focusing on her crotch. It cuts away, then it comes back to her underage cootchie! Okay, they show her booty a few times too. Child Assage in Denim is acceptable, Brooke made it so in her Calvins before Joss was born. But labial cleavage? Ewww.....