• What Not To Wear: Perfume Edition

    I’ve already illustrated what not to wear in bed (and conversely, what you should wear). Today we’ll move on to “What Not To Wear: Perfume Edition.”

    During Finn’s drum lesson Friday, I hustled over to the Galleria to Sephora to try out Gwen Stefani’s new perfume, Lamb. Usually I buy perfume based on scent alone. The fact that Elizabeth Taylor, J. Lo, and Britney hawked perfume didn’t persuade me to run out and try them.

    It’s different, however, when a celebrity I truly adore, like Sarah Jessica Parker or Gwen Stefani comes out with a scent. I desperately tried to like SJP’s Lovely, but it smelled like worn soccer cleats on me.

    So I was thrilled to hear that Gwen had a new perfume, because I feel as if we have a cosmic connection. We both have hot husbands and small titties and frequently dye our hair and… well, I can’t sing, and I don’t have a band, but when Kingston gets older I can give Gwen tons of useful information about how to teach him to fold his towel after his bath and pick his nose in private and put the lid down on the potty and other life skills.

    Anyway, whether you’re a Gwen fan or not, a girl couldn’t help but try the perfume after seeing this ad:


    Who wouldn’t want to smell like that?

    I was heady with anticipation when I got to Sephora, but when I spritzed the scent on my wrist I wasn’t sure it was jiving with my complex chemical makeup. Of course, you must give anything a chance, so after Finn and I got home from drums I asked Bill to smell it.

    He paused from making gin and tonics and gave my wrist a sniff.

    “I feel like I’ve smelled that before,” he said thoughtfully.

    I doubted he’d already smelled the latest scent from Gwen Stefani. He’s hardly on the cutting edge of pop culture. Remember how long it took him to figure out that Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie were dating? But he was holding my wrist and smelling it and looking off into the distance with a furrowed brow. It was confusing.

    “I’ve got it,” he said triumphantly, dropping my arm and reaching for the lime. “It smells like a girl I dated in the past.”

    Damn. I love you, Gwen, but I won’t be wearing Lamb.

    A year ago in My Tiny Kingdom: In Which I Discover That Porter Has Been Hired By The Government

  • Presenting YO MAMA!

    Here’s the premiere of YO MAMA, the first ever Glamore-Us movie.

    It does have sound, so be careful at work.

    No animals were harmed in the making of this film, although we almost had to kill Porter during filming.  He drank a Grapico while waiting for me at Jazzercise the morning of the shoot, and the sugar content damn near turned him into a pogo-stick.

    Also, if IMAX bothers you, you may want to take a Dramamine before viewing.  It’s not that we were able to replicate IMAX technology, far from it, but the camera was a little shaky and the movie is quite active. 

    I’m thinking that a “Behind The Movie” will be much in demand after this screening.

    Please post your reviews below!

    On the plus side, it’s also very short, at about 2.25 minutes including the obligatory Blooper reel.


  • Penguin Fillets

    “We’re eating sardines and making brownies for a lemonade stand,” Bill reported when he called.

    I wasn’t surprised by either activity. Summer is only a week old, and profits and penguins have emerged as the major topics of conversation and activity thus far. The boys have set up increasingly complex lemonade stands each day. Their first endeavor, in which they sold Fresh-baked Pound Cake and Ice-Cold pink lemonade with TONS of Cubes (signs and adjectives courtesy of Finn) garnered each boy over five dollars. The next day they got more creative with their offerings– a little too innovative, if customer response is any indication, and failed to sell much Hand-Dyed Brown Lemonade, although the sugar cookies were a modest hit.

    Drew has slept with a stuffed penguin named Lewis for years, and he just added another named Osbert (hero of the book My Penguin Osbert)to the menagerie. Osbert eats creamed herring, and when I got to Publix the other day I discovered “creamed herring” written at the bottom of my grocery list in Drew’s deliberate print. I’ve spent ages training the boys to convey their grocery needs by writing directly on the list. I wanted to fulfill Drew’s request, but I couldn’t find ready-made creamed herring and didn’t have a recipe in my head so I had to return home herring-less.
    Drew was disappointed, but I missed the tears because I had to leave town. During my absence Bill convinced Drew that sardines were an integral part of penguin nutrition, and that was enough to persuade all three boys to munch sardines and crackers for lunch. In return, Bill made Fresh & Hot Super Chocolatey brownies and spent the afternoon drinking beer and watching golf while the boys manned the lemonade stand. They’re going to need a license and insurance if they keep up this frantic pace.

    Meanwhile, I’ve been in New York attending a writers’ conference and the Book Expo. I met many top-notch literary agents, which is exactly what you need if you have a book you want to sell. I’ve gotten lots of encouragement from you guys (“When are you going to write a book so I can quit snorting coffee onto my keyboard?” has been a common refrain). Additionally, I’ve received positive feedback from a man I’ll identify only as “a publishing bigwig” and so I’ve decided it’s time to quit screwing around with the idea of a book and fish or cut bait. The manuscript, a compilation of the columns that have provoked the most laughter and comments, is ready, so I need an agent and a bit of luck.

    Two sessions at the conference were worth noting. One keynote speech is nicely summarized here, and stressed the importance of having an internet presence to market yourself and your work these days. My blog originally attracted iVillage’s attention and led to my writing this column for them for a year, which greatly expanded my readership and ability to churn out two columns a week. I’d consider myself proof that the Internet is a fantastic tool for attracting readers.

    I was surrounded by attendees who were mystified by the web, and it was reassuring to know that I’ve watched this site grow for two and a half years, and have ended up with a lot of book material and close friends in the process. I have all of you to thank for that.
    Another speaker’s talk was directed primarily to novelists. He urged writers to pay attention to their daydreams, as these out of body experiences convey your innermost fears which serve as the linchpin of your ….. yeah, I didn’t follow it either. It sucked that I seemed to be the only person in the room who wasn’t nodding beatifically. I was busy wondering when the hell anyone has time to daydream anymore. Between the kids, the column, the law practice, and the always nutritious dinners, my brain resembles a to-do list scramble.

    Oddly, the speaker emphatically rejected the notion that dreams at night could be of any use, and although I doubt his sanity overall, I was glad to get a solid ruling banning the the use of dreams as a creative catalyst. Drew’s heavy emphasis on penguins combined with a few too many ads for Happy Feet has caused me to have penguin nightmares.

    Generally Bill and I wander the Arctic naked and famished, wishing for a down jacket and a hot meal, and all we find is a penguin and a soup pot. You would think we’d clean and gut the animal, but in the nightmare we simply lay the Osbert-like creature on his side and slice him into fillets and then make a foul-tasting penguin soup.

    It’s the kind of dream that will leave you craving some creamed herring.

  • Boring Blogger Has Career Day Envy

    Getting a compliment from a sixth-grader is the highest form of flattery, so I was thrilled when a close friend’s daughter asked me to talk about writing at her school’s Career Day. Although I’ve never given this type of talk to twelve-year-olds before, I’ve done it in front of several adult audiences, and I figured I would be a huge hit with the preteen crowd.

    I like to make sure I have a large film screen set up so everyone can see the screen well. I demonstrate how comments work, and how clicking on the name in a comment will take you to that person’s blog. I show them the back side of the blog where all the coding is and that generally draws a big response and much undeserved respect for my limited coding skills.

    It’s also a cool touch to show the audience your stat program at the beginning of the talk so they can see how many readers have checked in, and then look again at the end of the presentation so they can see how many people clicked on the site while they were listening.

    I figured I had it made. Internet, cool coding, funny stories, winning personality– I’d be the Career Day Star.

    Things didn’t go exactly as I had planned. First, I’d assumed that the other speakers would have boring jobs. A lawyer (I’ve tried to tell my boys what I do in that job and make it interesting and that’s a losing battle), an investment banker, an accountant with a head for numbers and a personality to match.

    Sadly for me, the other contestants speakers included representatives of the local NPR affiliate, a chef, an orthopedic surgeon, and a makeup consultant.

    The NPR folks brought a microphone and Lord knows what else and let the kids stage a high-energy mayoral press conference. The pastry chef had mounds of fruit and melted chocolate and the students prepared chocolate-covered strawberries. The makeup consultant did a professional makeup application on one delighted sixth-grade girl, and handed samples of Chanel’s Chance perfume to everyone. Most thrillingly, the orthopedic surgeon showed clips of sports stars getting injured, then whipped out models of femurs and vertebrae and showed how he fixed the athletes. Blood, gore, sports– I never had a chance. Or a Chance.

    Meanwhile, I was droning, “And after I’ve made sure I’ve used strong, vibrant words, I proofread again to take out all the extra commas that slow readers down.” Ugh.

    It’s okay, really. I’d much rather concentrate on writing when I’m not practicing law. After all, I already spend a lot of time addressing blood and gore, though under less dramatic circumstances than the surgeon does. I interrogate my boys on a regular basis, so I have the art of the interview perfected at least as well as the talented folks at NPR. I’ve written plenty about my mad culinary skillz.
    Next year I’m bringing sparklers and Pop Rocks for everyone!