Great Sex!

Everybody loves great sex and last night I experienced the best of it for two and a half hours!!!-- I had a front row seat at an advanced screening of “Sex & The City: The Movie” and there wasn’t one moment that didn’t bring extreme pleasure. Appropriately, our group of four sat amongst other anxious fans as bonus footage from the Red Carpet of the New York City premiere warmed us up for the main event. As the stars exited their limos in predictably incredible fashion get-ups, the theater crowd cheered for their favorites, Kim Cattrell (Samantha) receiving the most screams and cheers. Finally, as we are ready to burst, Sarah Jessica leads us into the NYC theater and we are all on the edge of our seats as an upgraded, jazzier version of the tantalizing theme song re-introduces us to the magical scenes of New York and our four favorite forty-somethings.

The entire screenplay was perfectly executed. Missing is absolutely nothing from the clever and full-circle writings of the individual episodes that we all fell in love with. It packs even more true-life hilarity, while creating new and relatable heart-smashing despair. The fashion somehow, someway even managed to step it up as a pair of Manolo’s becomes so much more than a “$480- no, $525” pair of pumps.

This was probably the best movie I have seen in years. Even if you have never seen the television series, the movie is strong enough to stand alone and still worth your Friday night. The first ten minutes highlight each character’s personality enough to understand who they are, what they are about and why the world loves this quartet.

I give this ‘Sex’ a ten out of ten….and I’m not easy to please!

You Hate "The Hills" But Watch It Anyways

Raise your hand if you watch “The Hills”. Ok, I don’t honestly expect anyone to raise their hand because it is the number one show everybody watches but refuses to admit. It has to be the most unreal, reality television program ever created yet Monday after Monday I tune in to watch the latest and fakest “Heidi sad face”, enhanced this year due to her obvious and overly frequent collagen lip injections. (Seriously she needs to stop. Her lips are beyond the size of the Goodyear Blimp, her new boobs were implanted into her throat, her nose job makes her look older- not sure what the problem was with her original nose- I assume she claims deviated septum to fit in with the rest of Hollywood, and her bright white hair is eye-blinding. Also, she could stand to eat more than a fruit cup for lunch).

Each episode is virtually the same, Heidi, Spencer, Lauren and Audrina all magically appear at the same Hollywood club and have a massive verbal brawl about who made eye contact with who, that always leads back to “the rumor” and then there is conversation about the latest Heidi and Spencer conspiracy theory to “break-up” Lauren and Audrina. Every episode is honestly the same story line.

Rewind to the episode this past Monday, 4/14. During the first scene, Heidi asks the receptionist at Audrina’s job where she can find her. Fun fact of the day- I was that same receptionist at Sony as a temp for two and a half weeks when I first moved here…McDonalds drive thru headset and all! How hilarious is that? I wish Heidi would have walked in while I was there so I could have popped her lips with a push pin. But then again, this was two years ago- when she still looked human.

Tune in next week when Heidi unnaturally forces a girls night out with her enemy’s roommate and her douche-bag boyfriend’s younger sister. Nobody can say she doesn’t have girlfriends! Audrina’s random and fake co-worker totally counts as Heidi’s friend!

I'm A Popstar And You Know It

In a past life, I was a member of an ass-kickin’ female vocal group, a la Danity Kane. I absolutely know I was. I had to have been. Picture me. Picture all you know of me and try and tell me I’m not one-fifth a slice of pure pop perfection. I am the sporty but sassy member. The girl whose style exudes sophista-funk. The one who makes tennis shoes look sexy. The girl who plays football with the boys and kicks their asses all while looking good. The member with the best body roll. I am thinking about unleashing my past life onto P. Diddy/Puffy/Sean Combs himself so he can transform me into super stardom once again. He needs me. I need him. I am a popstar stuck in a metadata specialist’s body and watching episodes of "Making The Band 4" is making it worse. I need the stage. Give me one-fifth of it.

The Heart As a Symbol of Love and Health

Is it any bit ironic that a heart is a representation of Valentine’s Day- the day synonymous with expensive dinners of 42 ounce cholesterol-crammed Sirloin Steaks, assorted chocolate hearts filled with various goo aimed at producing unnatural heart rhythms, and candy hearts recruiting human hearts to be on Team Diabetes?

On the flip-side, research shows a glass of wine could be healthy for your heart if consumed in moderate amounts. A “moderate amount” is considered no more than one drink per day so don’t have two tonight, or your heart is looking at possible failure…especially when combined with that industrial-sized piece of beef.

*Picture above from Jupiter Images. It's a "chocolate heart".

May All The Worlds Collide

So after successfully starting my blog, I alerted an entire batch of people about my new project.

Slight issue.

This entire batch of people includes, good friends, old friends, friends of friends, family members who get me, family members who don’t, co-workers, ex-coworkers, people I’ve made out with, people I can only speculate I’ve made out with, people I’m trying to impress, people older than me, people younger than me, people smarter than me, women, men, mothers, fathers, drunkards, the slightly psychotic, the missing in action, the genuine, the smart-asses, local celebrities, lovers, fighters, the good, the bad, the evil, jokers, smokers, and midnight tokers.

It’s quite a list and diversity sounds like it would be a good thing….at first.

Yesterday I was in deep thought, in my favorite deep-thinking location- the shower- and realized I could have committed myself to a life of horror and going to movie theaters alone! Some of my blogs won’t be for the weak-hearted- literally. I might have to supply beta-blockers for all the people I am sure to offend at some point along my blogging career.

But I realized that having all my worlds and parallel lives collide into one giant potential disaster is going to happen and it will be real. Being real is a top priority to me. Nobody likes anything that is fake or censored if they can have the real thing and have it be better than the fake. (Picture a set of natural, perky, perfect size 34C breasts- get it?) So here I am, letting the people I’m trying to impress mingle with the drunkards, and letting my parents unite with the slightly psychotic…oh wait, those would be the same people.

It’s what I have to do. Let the lovers mix with the fighters if it means saving myself from becoming best friends with a psychiatrist.

Does This Life Make My Butt Look Big?

Blogging. It's so 2001. It isn't often I am six years behind on a trend. I'm hip, fashionable, and pop culture has been my best friend since my second grade birthday party at the nearby roller skating rink. Just ask all the cleverly dressed Troll dolls I got as gifts.

I am afraid that in the very beginning of this current century, my college quest to consume enormous amounts of liquor and the subsequent graduation (yes, I have defeated my fear of the "G" word) that dropped me into the "real world" like hastily packed MRE's from a miltary helicopter, I ignorantly dismissed the idea of blogging. And how could I? I have been denying the entire world my views on important and thought-provoking topics such as the utopia that is a college campus, the complete awfulness of marriage at any age before 62, the horrendous effort of Cleveland sports teams when it counts most- in the championship finals, and exercising while wearing a thong.

Does this life make my butt look big? I aim to find out.