Girly Girl by Author Kristin Billerbeck

I hate the country, but Merry Christmas!

I realize this is going to sound slightly Nastasha from “Bridget Jones’s Diary” — “Does nothing work outside of London?” But this will make you appreciate your family, so I’m going ahead… I love coming to my mother’s house (our former house) which is outfitted with four incredible bathtubs, and a gourmet kitchen with a chef (My Mommy), but every once in a while, I have to venture from my luxurious digs and enter the world of country living — otherwise known as the reason I am now living in a cramped townhouse with four kids and a dog.

I finished my book (Half Broke Horses by Jeanette Walls — author of “The Glass Castle” — if you have a tendency to over-parent, read these books — besides being incredible stories, they are testament to how we were born to survive, it’s instinctual. Mesmerizing.) So I finished my book and ventured to Long’s (CVS) to get more Bubble Bath and a magazine (InStyle with Whitney Houston) and what should my wondering eyes should appear? Losers who didn’t bother to think about Christmas gifts until the day before Christmas — and then, only to find what’s left at the stinkin’ drug store.

I get that this is perhaps not a fair shake for country folk, but oh. My. Goodness. I am not in the Christmas spirit after being cut off in the parking lot by white trash in trucks, as they squeal into the parking lot to get their tin o’ popcorn and hard booze as gifts. Dude, if you were coming to my Xmas party? I’d want hard booze too. You might want to consider that people want to anesthetize their experience with you. In line, I get cut off by someone buying that nasty, gummy/eraser fruit for a fruitcake. “Lady, no one likes that crap anyway. Don’t waste your time.” Her daughter is buying rings ‘o pineapples, probably to put on top of the ham — which may be from the pig in their yard, for all I know.

Now, I have the hang of things (Be rude, consider no one else,) and I need coffee, so I squeal my little SUV into the drive-thru at Starbucks. Listen, people, you may have me in CVS, but in Starbucks? Now you’re in MY territory now and I will not be threatened. “Double shot over ice. No, no sugar.” I need the hard stuff — I’m in the country. So I wish you all a Merry Christmas. I am staying inside so that mine will be joyous. And I’ll post this just as soon as the Internet is working. It shuts down during the day — because the golf club is open. Don’t ask.

Jake the Bachelor: January 4th

I just saw a commercial for the new Bachelor.  Lot of fancy camera work to make Jake seem exciting as the Bachelor.  Oh. My. Goodness.  My only hope is that it's going to make for good blogging because the guy is as exciting as mud.  Darling.  And I do think he was a good pick for Jillian -- who was too flighty to know it.  No pun intended.

But I for one, am not enthused.  "On the Wings of Love" Really?  The cheese effect is deep -- fondue-deep.  

  

I'm avoiding packing up the car. I'm done now.

Remember Brittany Murphy's Life...not her death

Reports are saying that Brittany's room was riddled with strong prescription drugs:  According to the investigator's notes, the medications included: Topamax (anti-seizure medication also to prevent migraines), Methylprednisolone (anti-inflammatory), Fluoxetine (depression),

Klonopin (anxiety), Carbamazepine (treats diabetic symptoms and is also a bipolar medication), Ativan (anxiety), Vicoprofen (pain reliever), Propranolol (hypertension, used to prevent heart attacks), Biaxin (antibiotic), Hydrocodone (pain) and various vitamins.

Seriously?  If you went through anyone's drug cabinet you'd be likely to find a whole cache of stuff -- I have prednisone for the MS, stuff for migraines, and leftover Vicodin from something I never took --  but let's just say Brittany was bipolar, and I have no proof that she was, but if she was, she'd have all of those things in her cabinet.  Bipolars feel stress more acutely than others, and brain drugs work differently on everyone, so often, there will be multiple tries before the right drug is worked out.  Their brain never shuts down and that's why you often get such incredible creativity and intellect with them, but also dark moods when their crash comes.  

Famous bipolars include: Mozart, Marilyn Monroe, Jim Carrey, Mark Twain, Carrie Fisher, Robert Downey, Jr., Vivien Leigh, and they say if Winston Churchill wasn't bipolar, we'd all be speaking German.  My point here is bipolars often self-medicate and their troubles can be confused for drug/alcohol issues.  If Brittany was bipolar, she was medicating in the proper way, but her little body couldn't take it all.  She was loved by her husband, loved by her mother and extremely talented and THAT is what she should be remembered for.  Not her tragic death.

 
 

Life is Too Short...Laugh at Yourself

My stomach hurts this morning from laughing.  Sometimes, my DH has what I call "interactive" dreams. He bolts upright with a start, and let's see...he's saved me from the wall once, which had computer stuff coming out of it.  He's smacked me because I had a spider on my head...and the other night, he wakes up turns on the light and has to kill this spider.  "I saw it!"

"You can't see it.  It's dark in here.  Go back to sleep!"

"No, I saw it!" He says as he takes a pillow in hand and goes hunting.

This is where I get annoyed.  He argues with me in his sleep.  Which makes me sarcastic.  "Okay, well you get 'em honey."  And then, I turn over.

So last night, I'm relaying all my interactive nights and I can barely get the words out, I'm laughing so hard.  And he's annoyed.  How can you not laugh at the fact that you're hunting in your sleep?  How is that not funny?  But you know, he was Superman in the dream.  He rescued me, and somehow he wants to be thanked for this.  

This is where I'm a terrible wife, I suppose.  I am not rewarding you for crazy sleep habits -- especially when they involve me.  It brings up a bigger issue though.  How does one go through life and not laugh at themselves?  We're our own best comedy, who would want to miss out on that?

On a sidenote, I'm glad he's having spider dreams.  They're supposed to mean money is coming into your life, and he stopped having them when he married me.  Hmmm...

And if it's any consolation, I am perfectly happy laughing at myself.  I do many a stupid thing, so it would be a long life without laughter.

 
 

Katy Perry & Russell Thrown in my Face Again!

In case you've missed it, I have an unhealthy interest in Katy Perry dating Russell Brand.  It's too fast, it's too furious and the two of them are TOO artistic.  So tonight, I'm watching the taped West Ham vs. Chelsea match (my son's an avid Chelsea fan) and I love to watch Soccer.  (Little known fact, I'm sure, but it's such a fast game, and beautiful even if no one scores, you can appreciate the play.)  Anyhoo, minding my own business and they pan to Russell and Katy -- and they're rooting for West Ham.  Boo all the way around!

 
 

My Readers Know Me Too Well...

I did sneak off some illicit pictures. LOL

 
 
   
 

The Star Trek Exhibit...Resistance is Futile

We're standing in line for tickets, and my husband says, "Everyone looks normal here, are you disappointed?"

I'm thinking, do you see this woman behind me?  Something's not right.  She's got boots and leggings of some cosmic sort, but he doesn't notice.  Moments later, the entire group removes their jacket and they are ALL in full costume.  And may I just say, someone needs to introduce the future to Spanx. 

My humor quickly fades when I see I can't take photos inside.  You have never seen so many engineers in full dress costume -- it's blog heaven for me, and I can't do anything with it!  This is Halloween at its nerdy best, and I can't take a picture?  This is simply wrong.  

I especially wanted to capture the Chinese James T. Kirk in full dress uniform.  He'd brought his family and dressed his wife too.  She didn't look too into it, but she went along.  You know you've found your soulmate when she'll dress up and be your Uhura.  Made me wonder if they had a Princess Leia gold bikini at home.

Geek humor: There was a guy in a red uniform, and apparently, these are the guys who always get killed on the missions and he had a shirt that read, "Expendable."  This cracked up son and hubby.  I missed it.

We walk through a series of uniforms worn by the "crew" -- and I'm only interested in Scott Bakula's, and yeah!  He's taller than me!  Scott, I forgive you for being in "Star Trek", you'll always be Sam Beckett to me.

After that, we get to see the "Bridge" where we take our photo pretending we're leaning to the side.  Why this is understood by everyone, I'm not sure, but I played along.

Then, we moved on to get our photos as we "beamed up".  They put the photo on a hologram and you disappear as you move the picture.  Had to admit, that was cute.  Oh and on the computer screen, you disappeared while you stood there, and then you come back on the other side.  That entertained me.

Then, you get to see the Klingon Captain's Chair and the Borg Cube.  I have no idea what either of these are, but the Klingon Chair looked like fine, Corinthian leather out of a Chrysler LeBaron, so I think Khan may have something to do with it.

Here's where I have to give Trekkies their due.  It was $88 for the four of us to get in -- more for the pictures.  So you have to have a job to be a real Trekkie.  And here's my favorite part of the day.  We buy the photos and there's a white engineer behind us, and the guy hands out pictures to him.  I told my husband, "You've seen one white engineer, you've seen them all."  Seriously though, if you're looking to make a buck, take Spanx to the next convention.  Tell them Uhura SWEARS by them.

 
 

A Cute Elle Story..

You all know, my nine year old is entertainment at its best. Yesterday, I took her to Starbucks with me and there was this tiny Asian gal in front of us. She had these killer stiletto boots on her tiny feet and I said to Elle, "Aren't those cute?  You'll never be able to do that because you inherited your mom's gunboats." (big feet)

Without missing a beat she wiggles her bums, and goes, "Ya gotta shake what your mama gave ya!"

I'm a writer...

This is what I say when people ask me what I do for a living.

"What do you write?" (always the next question)

"Novels." I say.  Or sometimes, "Chick lit -- women's fiction with humor." 

I generally get blank stares regardless of how I answer.  It really is a weird job, in that I get to be someone else and play in my imaginary world all by myself.  Most of the time, that's a good thing, but sometimes, it gets rather depressing.  I've been writing with friends two days a week at the coffee shop.  That helps. But it has been SO long since I had a book out, I'm sort of forgetting there's an ending.  A result, if you will.  That I actually do SOMETHING for a job. 

I've lived in all these different worlds lately: a single mother dealing with her mentally ill ex-husband, a perfectionist teenager and the good-for-now-girlfriend of a high tech billionaire. Three books, and right now, no results -- well, not until July of 2010 anyway -- nearly three years between books.  Which makes it all seem rather pointless, as though my living in my imagination produces little more than it did as a child -- a temporary diversion.  

Some days, it feels like I live in the imaginary place so much, I forget what real life looks like (which I guess is good, because it's not that great at the moment.) Every once in a while, I remember fondly what it was like to say I had a real job.  

This last month, I've gotten paychecks.  That's another thing that's been imaginary lately: pay.  It's hard to get back into the swing of things: Writing/editing/marketing/writing/editing/marketing after two years of editing/editing/editing -- no book.  LOL  I know the multi-tasking of this job will come back to me, but right now, I'm working on the basics: I'm a writer. AND YES!  My next book is out in July, 2010 -- thank you for asking.   
 

Parenting Suri Cruise...

 
 I've heard a lot about the awful parenting of Suri Cruise for letting her wear heels, and I have to protest.  As a "creative" child, I would have found a way to wear heels.  Girly girls will not be stopped by random laws... I used to go to my Nana's house and totter about there.  It's like parents who won't let their boys play with guns, and are horrified to find them using their fingers pointed as weapons.

We are all given a certain bent in life, and you can train that bent, but you can't crush it out of a child without disastrous results.  Really?  Suri Cruise is being hurt how by being able to wear her cute, little heels?  And aren't all little girls just jealous that they get the plastic Target versions while Suri gets Bruno Magli's or the like?

My mother never wore a stitch of makeup.  I glommed on lip gloss as soon as I could get my hands on it.  My mother never dyed her hair -- which even as a child, I saw as a sin.  I remember having very strong attitudes early on about ladylike behavior.  I saw a friend of my parents (woman) drinking a beer, and I thought it was disgusting at five years' old, "Women aren't supposed to drink beer," I said.

I have no idea where I got this idea, but I haven't ever drank a beer, so I guess it stuck.  I just hear so much judgment on parents, and seriously, if you don't have to parent Lindsay Lohan, consider yourself lucky, but not all kids are easily guided.  So I think we should take the plank out of our eyes on parenting.  Oh and here I am at 3. Which doesn't look that different from 43 -- except I don't have to stand on the bathtub anymore.  Vanity was in my blood.  All you can do is guide it, you're not going to remove it from a child.