Everything DOES look so much better on TV

I have a ridiculous cold. I mean, this shit is whack. Yeah. I said whack. Almost of the wiggity variety, but that is for another day. Another day.

I have been seeing sooo many commercials for this new "warming liquid" (aka: Vodka)by Tylenol and TheraFlu and the end results are always a woman on a couch-type seating thing with a warm and obviously comfortable shawl/blanket wrapped around her. She is looking very happy and very not sick. I hate her and want to be her at the same time.

That shows the power of commercials. Well, maybe not so much that example because, hey, who doesn't want to feel better when they are sick?

The real power? The real power of suggestion? Let's list them here....

~Certain Lysol commercials have a background song that makes me want to clean. I mean, like, CLEAN. It's that poppy sound of The Postal Service. The Postal Service makes me want to disinfect.

~Monistat commercials make me want to wear white cottony pant-type things and curl up on a couch with a mug of tea, happy with the condition of my ladybusiness. It almost makes me want to have a yeast infection so I can heal and sit on a couch like that, having lived through the hell o' the yeast and come out on the other side. With white cottony pant-type bottoms on. And a mug of tea. On a couch. Maybe throw in a book?

~Valtrex. If TV advertising tells us anything, it tells us that all people with sexually transmitted diseases are beautiful, married, extremely active and have perfect hair. Seriously. On some level I know if I were to contract an STD I would suddenly take up hiking. Or canoing. Or cuddling on a hammock. In my back yard. Hammock.

I want to kill and congratulate those media people. They can sell it. Oh yes. They can sell it.

Now I have to go and vote for my favorite American Idol contestants.

Anyone else?

There are times, like right now, that I really feel the human race has failed miserably. What the hell are we thinking half the time? I mean, seriously.

Just

Just go away, Tatiana. Seriously. You didn't make it. And do you know why? Because she acted like a douche. An overly dramatic douche. She was the best damn singer of them all, but I. Hated. Her.

Know what else I hate? The fact that I *just* spent the last two minutes bitching about American Idol. This is my first time watching it.

P.S. I voted for Danny. Yay me!

I HATE MYSELF!!

Model recession

I just watched a segment on the Today Show, talking about Fashion Week in a recession. They have made cutbacks all over...normally attendees get small boxes filled with individual champagne and chocolates. This year, they are being served McDonald's coffee. The colors are darker and the fabrics and thicker, creating a secure feeling similar to curling up on the couch and escaping the world.

My solution?

Cut the budget for the models' food. Those bitches are too fat. Sarah Jessica Parker deserves her champagne!

Really?

We are still at war.

We are in a recession.

Unemployment rates are sky high.

Talk of bailouts yet thousands laid off every day.

AND MICHAEL "HOT MESS IN THE MOUTH" PHELPS SMOKING OUT OF A DAMN BONG IS STILL NEWS?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

You have GOT to be kidding me.

My god. Just. My god.

Sunday morning...really

There are about to be three stuffed cats in my apartment. I am awake. I was awakened at 6:15 this morning. I have to have a mold problem because of all the water on the carpet from the squirt bottles. These damn cats are wet more than they are dry. I am going to knit a harness to keep the bottles on me at all times.

OH--speaking of knitting--once I sign the contract, I will officially be a craftsperson! I will be able to make whatever I want, however much I want, and sell it!! Finally, making money back on knitting!!!! It is very exciting. I am able to make my bath stuff as well, which will be quick and easy money pretty much year round. For the spring shows, I am going to knit my purses and jewelery and some light, lace-knit shawls. The fall shows will have my arm and leg warmers, scarves, hats and heavier shawls. The website will have all of them year round.

So wow...I love my day job. I love what I do and who I work with and how my days go. I love knitting and making my bath stuff. And I am going to be paid for both!!

Wow

Missing Chicago hits me from out of nowhere. It's like any other grief...it smacks you upside the head and paralyzes you, making you stop whatever you are doing because you can't breathe due to the heaviness on your chest. It settles right behind the eyes. It fills the stomach. It pulls the shoulders down. It. Sucks.

Um, holy CRAP

Brad Pitt is 45. 45. FORTY FIVE!

This is one of those moments when I am having issues with people other than me aging. I have no problem with the thought of me aging. Yeah, I got it. I'm gonna get old. That is nothing new. But HOLY CRAP.

In five year, FIVE YEARS, Brad Pitt will be 50.

Anyone else my age having issue with the thought that Brad Pitt Will Be Fifty In Five Years?

I don't think fifty is old. I really don't. But when Brad Pitt, someone who I had plastered on my walls as a teenager, someone who wasn't so old that having a crush was weird...when that person hits a milestone age like 50, well, there is cause for pause.

Shit. I think I have it bad? Katie Holmes is my age and she is married to Tom Cruise.

And yes, there is a People magazine to my right. You shut up your face.