Here's my question: Do they really need to separate out plus, petite and juniors? They are ONLY special because they are indicated as such and let's face it, this is not to indicate they are special in a good way, right? After you shop for sweaters and jeans and dresses, THEN ALSO shop for plus sizes and petites. Is that because they don't have sweaters and jeans and dresses in plus sizes and petites?
You know what's gotta be REALLY hard? Being a plus size or petite junior. Is that like being extra special?
I wrote and rewrote this entry because I did not want it to sound angry and it probably does anyway. But I'm not angry. I mean, I'm still gonna shop at Macys and I suppose I get the need to separate these out (and every online retailer does it).
And hey, let's be honest, if I were skinny, would I even give a shit?
But I guess in a weird way, I dream that if they were just included -- if you went to shop for a dress you could select from size 2 to 22 -- and if those sizes were just a part of the whole selection, people would just recognize it as more of a norm. It has to start somewhere.
Oh-so-sad. R.I.P. Law & Order! Until we meet again... On TNT, Bravo, Oxygen, USA, Chill, WGN... What did I miss?
"Created by arguably one of the biggest Dicks in television history, the crime procedural will end (maybe) its twenty-season run on Monday, May 24th, with its final episode. Fortunately, Chuck Norris’ long rumored lawsuit against NBC — claiming 'Law & Order' are trademarked names for his left and right legs — had nothing to do with it. Rather, the show is just older than balls."
Long has the L&O franchise been my television crack. No joke - I've spent many a Sunday watching morning-til-night marathons. My friends know this about me. The day the cancelation of L&O was announced, I was the proud recipient of over a dozen e-mails and text messages. I'm sure my friends were all assuming it would only be a matter of time before I chimed on on the show's demise.
STOP JUDGING ME! I see no shame in this! ;)
But let's not get carried away. I mean, sure, this show is ending a 20-year run (why they couldn't push it to 21 to break the record for longest-running, I do not know), but it will still be on daily, in perpetuity on TNT, USA, Oxygen, WGN, Chill, and so on and so forth... I mean, it's the show that never REALLY dies. And let's also not forget its babies, "Special Vicitims" and "Criminal Intent." They're still there to comfort me on future Sundays.
My favorite L&O story happened when I was living in New York. My friend and I were in line at Lechters Housewares on 8th and Broadway and she got visibly excited. She pointed to the guy in line in front of us, whispering loudly, "it's Mr. Big!" As I'd not started watching "Sex & the City" just yet, I took one look at him and said, quite out loud, "Nope, that is Detective Logan from Law & Order." He turned to me and smiled (his smile could melt rock, my friends) and said "thank you!" I never totally got why he was thanking me. Maybe he was just sick of all the S&TC fever and wanted to NOT be Mr. Big for a little while. And dude, I was happy to help you out. You gotta love it.
My all-time favorite L&O cast member, though, is Jerry Orbach (Detective Lenny Briscoe). That would be the dad from "Dirty Dancing" if you're not familiar. Always the classiest and always with the best one-liners like "I'm trying to decide what to arrest you for - obstruction of justice, harboring a fugitive or just being a general pain in the ass."
But to everyone from creator and Executive Producer, Dick Wolf, to Jerry Orbach, to Sam Waterston... I thank you, "Law & Order," for being my most favorite series franchise ever.
P.S. - All I want in the world right now is the sound of the "dun-dun" (you know what I mean) from the beginning of every episode for my text message alert sound. If you find it, SEND IT!
Had a GREAT time this past weekend with three of my girlfriends in Vegas. There was no focused celebration or reason to go other than we needed to escape California for a couple days and where better to do it?
The thing about Vegas is, for me, I feel liberated the second the car crosses the California/Nevada border. Maybe sooner. Maybe from the moment we hit the road and turned the Vegas mix on the iPod. There's nothing like a good music mix to get you in the mood. I am, as it happens, the master of the mix. I am totally "DJ Jazzy Jew."
Nothing annoys me more than play-by-play blogs so here are just some photo highlights and some fabulous quotes I took down over the weekend. (I was named the quote-book-keeper.) I bet you can tell which things were said under the influence and which were stated out of sheer genius...
It might help to know that by the end of the weekend, we'd all earned new nicknames. You'll pick up on that...
Deb: We never found sugar daddies…
Me: That's ok- we found Kristy the cocktail waitress!
Me: Wanna smell my foot? (As I pretty much put it right in front of her nose because I am disgusting)
Deb: Smells like vegas.
Deb: I'm gonna have some FRENCH TOAST (Imagine Leslie Mann in the 40 Year Old Virgin)
Frat boy passing by us to his buddy: Dude, I totally want french toast now.
Steph:Dear lobster, by the time I finished eating you, I was hungry again. Hugs n' kisses, Liberace
Me, after tasting Steph’s nasty mojito: Dude, my makeup remover has less alcohol than this. Shit, turpentine is more palatable.
Deb: Guys, I wanna have coke bottles in my hair by the end of this weekend
Me: I want a microwave burrito.
Deb: There are many subtle layers of HO. Crispy, extra crispy, or like some deep fried ho.
Deb: Omigod, it smells like Vegas. So gross. I love it.
Deb, upon seeing our beautiful room: It’s like Jesus lives here.
Deb, taking a swig of the Grand Lux strawberry martini: It burns on the way down.
Steph to well-dressed dudes: What are you guys in town for?
Deb: The convention of awesomeness.
Deb, to the taxi driver: What's your name?
Taxi driver: Daniel
Melissa: Daniel? That's my therapist’s name.
Taxi Driver: Maybe I could be your second therapist.
(seems like a good idea, no?)
Steph: Melissa I have something for you. It's a red flag.
Me: My Vegas is throbbing
Sam, new friend from the pool:I date guys who take steroids because they hate themselves.
Me (via Facebook): Dear Vegas, Steph is drunk. I got a new hat. What up?
Deb: Melissa said “Drink, don't think.” Man, the rules get flipped in Vegas.
Tonight a friend took me out for dinner for my birthday (which was Saturday) and I was SO excited to spot David Moscow walk in!
You might know him best as Josh Baskin (AKA the young Tom Hanks) in 1988's "Big" or possibly from the short-lived WB sitcom "Zoe, Duncan, Jack & Jane" (he was Duncan) but to me, he will always be David Jacobs from Disney's "Newsies."
Ah yes, the mostly male cast of the musical, based-on-a-true-story of the 1899 child labor union strike. Starring a then-unknown Christian Bale (oh yes, Batman sings and dances), Bill Pullman, Ann-Margaret and Doogie's buddy Max Casella. A cult classic for sure. And for me and my friends in the 8th grade, our favorite thing to sing and dance to after school.
We probably mastered every dance move, my friends. Is it embarrassing to admit this? HELL NO! We rocked that "King of New York" routine!
So ANYWAY, I waled right up to David Moscow, told him how many of my 8th grade afternoons he consumed and not only was he all smiles and adorable-ness, but he actually dared me to bust out some moves right there in the restaurant. I totally declined but gave him my card and said if we hung out sometime, I would totally do it for him. Yes, I am that ballsy. Yes, I am certifiable.
And in case you aren't familiar with Newsies, you must take it in. Enjoy.
Only in Los Angeles, friends. I may miss New York like crazy, but I never saw a Newsie in Union Square!
June's issue of French Glamour features plus-size women--not plus-side models--talking about XXL fashion. Actually, the ladies are blogueuses, an exquisite word for bloggers. Entitled "Vive les fatshionistas!" the article contains tips on where to shop and online resources for full-figured beauties.
Right now, at this moment, I am exhausted. I can't hold up my arms (but I can rest my palms on my laptop and type, clearly), and I'm resting my head on the back of the couch, lest is fall over... I can't stop yawning and I need a good, serious stretch.
Last week and the week before, I didn't come home after work once. I was enjoying seeing all of my friends and tending to some obligations.On the weekends, I've been booked solid and thanks to the brat next door, totally unable to sleep late.
One of the small highlights on my last couple weeks was when- due to some unfortunate events - I came home Sunday morning at 6:30 and fell into bed. It took me a little while to fall asleep but then I slept off and on til noon and then spent the remainder of the day on the couch, catching up on Tivo.
I love you, Tivo.
I'm not complaining, mind you. I love my friends and I love my life (most of the time) but it's time for some introspection. Maybe I'm afraid to be alone with myself? It has occurred to me...
Maybe I'm afraid if I say no to invitations, people will stop inviting me.
Whatever it is, it's definitely put me in a bit of a funk and I've gotta climb out of it. Who enjoys feeling this way? I certainly don't.
The happiest I've been in a long while was in Palm Springs with a few of my friends... Yeah, it's a little weird that I had to leave town to feel good. Escapism much? Yeah...
My birthday is Saturday and I'm celebrating with good food and copious amounts of alcohol. Perhaps with shopping. After that, a new year of my life begins and I say "BE GONE FUNK!"
I really did say that out loud just now. Thank God my roommate can sleep through anything.