Search results: 25 signs

25 Signs You Are Obsessed With The Royal Family

18 Mar

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William and Kate on their wedding day. I earned bonus points for #1.

My love of the British royal family has been pretty well documented, but for those of you who aren’t sure if your interest in the House of Windsor has ventured into the obsession territory, I present this list for your consideration:

25 Signs You Are Obsessed With The Royal Family

  1. You stayed up to watch coverage of the royal wedding live. Bonus points if you made the trip to England to see it in person.
  2. You own a replica royal wedding ring that you saw advertised on an infomercial.
  3. You own a “Harry is Hotter” mug.
  4. You own Pippa’s book.
  5. You can rattle off all of William and Harry’s middle names. William Arthur Philip Louis! Harry Charles Albert David! Whew.
  6. You get defensive if someone says something rude about Kate’s bangs.
  7. You wonder how many Twitter followers Diana would have if she were alive.
  8. You’ve watched Princess Diana’s BBC interview too many times to count and and can mouth along with, “There were three of us in this marriage, so it was a bit crowded.”
  9. You have a RILF list.
  10. You know the breed and name of Kate and William’s dog.
  11. You could write a dissertation about Charles and Camilla—how they met, why they were inevitable, and what went wrong with Diana.
  12. You were outraged when Netflix posted: “William & Katherine a Royal Love Story.” It’s Catherine, HELLO!
  13. Your stop in London includes things like a visit to Richard Ward’s salon and retracing Diana’s High Street Kensington steps.
  14. You find watching The Queen to be a fascinating Friday night activity.
  15. You can name every girl Harry has been linked to in the last 10 years.
  16. You’ve bought and/or received every People Magazine Special on the royal family.
  17. You still have your Princess Diana Beanie Baby.
  18. You say things like, “Well, this year Kate and William didn’t go to Sandringham for Christmas, TOTALLY breaking tradition.”
  19. You know the top ten in line to the British throne.
  20. You’ve purchased something from Zara just because Kate wore it.
  21. Your favorite role of Colin Firth is not as Mark Darcy or Fitzwilliam Darcy but as King George VI.
  22. You’ve been on the Party Pieces website.
  23. You know the name of all of Diana’s rumored and actual boyfriends. She just wanted to be loved!
  24. You know what perfume Kate wore for her wedding. And nail polish. And you may own both.
  25. You can write a “Signs You Are Obsessed With The Royal Family” list based off of your own life.

Did I miss any?

Take Me To Prince William!

5 Dec

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Last night I read a little essay about my royal family obsession for Pepperdine’s Fall Literary Arts Festival.  I wore my replica royal engagement ring, and spoke through my Kate Middleton mask, and overall I think people only lost 80% respect for me.

I thought I would share it here, because this is mah blag or whatever.

I don’t know.  I’m tired.

***

When I was a young girl, my mother used to take my family to the Las Vegas library.  It was a new library, at the time, one of those that the city had really gone all out with. It had two stories and oodles of books and a great big yellow slide into the children’s section that made everything seem so much more magical and fun.

It’s funny how a yellow slide can do that.

On family library days, my siblings and I were given free reign.  We could read and do whatever we liked for several hours as long as we weren’t causing any trouble.  For some of my siblings, these library days were painful, long events that consisted mainly of the big yellow slide over and over again.

For me, these library days were Prince William.

My super-practical mother surely wouldn’t have approved if she had had known that as soon as I was alone, I would sneak into the teen section and grab every book on the royal family I could get my 8-year-old hands on.  Giddy, I would curl up in a corner, and read the memoirs of Diana’s personal assistant to my romantic heart’s content.

My infatuation with Prince William soon became one of my best-known personality traits.  I spent time in middle school drawing the country of England.  I memorized the royal family tree.  My heart was broken when William started dating Kate, restored again when they split, and broken further, and perhaps beyond repair when they got back together for good.

The day William and Kate’s royal engagement was announced, people I hadn’t seen or heard from in years reached out via text, Facebook, and personal phone calls to see how I holding up.

I assured everyone I would live, and then silently transferred my deep and abiding love to Prince Harry, because to this day I believe the royal family needs a slightly manic brunette with a penchant for Taco Bell nacho cheese in their lives.

By the time I got to high school, my royal obsession was pretty well known.  In Political Science when we studied the British government, every time the royal family was mentioned I would giggle and squeal “Prince William” and the girls in my class would follow suit.  This became such a regular thing that any time England was mentioned, all of the boys in class let out audible groans.  Their complaining only fueled our estrogen fire though, because this was high school, and in high school when you want to get the attention of the dreamboat in Political Science you squeal about Prince William.

I’ve always been such a delightful girl.

Perhaps the most telling bit of my royal obsession came when I was asked to my senior prom.  The boy who asked me drew me a large sketchbook, that ended with a blank page that said, “Now draw me a prom date.”  This sketchbook started with a drawing of me, then included a drawing of me with a dragon, and culminated in a picture of me riding the dragon with my fist in the air while I said, “Take me to Prince William!”

I’ll let that soak in for a minute.

When I was 23 years old, my royal obsession reached the only place it could go.  I boarded a plane to London with a working  visa in hand, ready to face my destiny and ready to pretend that Prince Harry was always my first choice, even back in his awkward teenage years, when the entire world was team William The Abercrombie Model.

My year in Great Britain was a lot of things, but sadly, it was not a lot of royal things.  I did see Kate and William a few times, out and about on royal duties, and I did stand in the crowd at Buckingham Palace the day of The Great Wedding, but, alas, there was no dragon and, alas, no one took me to Prince William.

The 8-year-old girl in me is still a little bit sad about this.

And so, in case you weren’t convinced I’m an absolute nut job, and in case you want a further reason to stop our friendship, I will now put on my replica Diana engagement ring, don my Kate Middleton mask, and with only 20% embarrassment, present to you, 25 signs you are obsessed with the royal family.

Prince Harry, be still my beating heart.

25 Signs You Are Obsessed With The Royal Family.

 

What I’ll Tell My Future Daughters About The Women’s March on January 21, 2017

22 Jan

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I woke up at 6:30 bubbling and ready to go. This never happens, you know. Well you really know if you’re my daughters.

I’m sorry about me in the mornings.

We met at my friend Shelley’s place to finalize our signs. Poster boards were sold out all through Los Angeles. “I had to buy them in packs of 10,” LJ said.

I went for a double-sided post: “Women’s Rights Are Human Rights” and “Women Unite.” I carried a bit of Hillary with me today.

We drove to the Metro and were greeted by snaking crowds and bright signs. As soon as we stepped out strangers yelled, “Get back in the car!” It was 2,000 deep to even purchase a ticket.

Back in the car we got.

We parked nearby and joined the throng wandering to Pershing Square. The air was electric. I don’t know how to describe it. You could taste the hope. Smell it, feel it.

This was history.

We gathered, unable to hear the speakers or what was going on. Every once in awhile we held our signs up and cheered. We were here! We were ready!

The crowd was too big to march whatever route was planned and soon we dispersed. All through downtown, hundreds of thousands of us marched and cried and chanted Beyoncé.

There was a lot of Beyoncé.

We danced in the street to “In the Name of Love.” We hugged a stranger who said “Now hug someone else. Get to know someone else who is here.”

Every kind of human being, every kind of American imaginable was present. We had women sporting Republican signs and Communist signs. We had people in costume as the Dakota Pipeline.

Everyone had a different reason for being there. Healthcare, the environment, immigrants, women’s rights, LGBT rights, anyone marginalized. Human decency.

Love.

Above all, love.

There were babies and men. A woman with a broken leg whose husband was pulling her on a converted wagon.

There were seven of us girls who came together. Seven of us girls who are women of faith, feminists of faith. We met at church and through each other.

Feminists need women of faith.

Women of faith certainly need feminists.

We shared stories about the sexism we’ve experienced in our lives. We introduced ourselves. We sat on each other’s laps in our unexpected journey downtown in a car.

We held signs.

My mamma taught me how to march

Girls just want to have fun-damental rights

Girl Gang Forever

We all had different reasons for coming, different backgrounds and feelings. Different issues at stake.

I was slightly more hysterical than some (all), perhaps.

What else is new?

I wish you could have seen the signs, girls! The signs were such a highlight.

So many creatives, so many beautiful posters. Star Wars was everywhere. Carrie Fisher was everywhere. “A woman’s place is in the resistance.”

The resistance it was.

We gathered a crowd of millions of people worldwide, hundreds of thousands in Los Angeles alone. Women across America and the globe said no.

No, this is not ok. This is not normal.

No to hatred, no to bigotry, no to sexism and bullying. No, no, no.

No.

We will resist.

We did it peacefully. We did it happily. We were hopeful and inspired, we stood in solidarity with different viewpoints and different backgrounds.

Today we made history, girls.

I did it for you.

I did it for me.

Today we made history.

Dolly Parton And I Don’t Know…

12 Dec

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My favorite Bachelorette of all time is Jillian Harris.  I promise it’s not just about the name, though I’m definitely biased towards people with the name Jillian.

It’s like the Curb Your Enthusiasm episode where Larry admits he favors bald men.  I favor girls named Jillian.  Girls with curly hair.

Girls, in general.

But Jillian Harris.  She’s something else.

She’s classy, for one.  She dresses like perfection.  She has a successful business career.  She seems like she’s the type of mess I can get behind.  In a recent interview she said, “I am always a disaster.  I have dents in my car.  I lose a pair of glasses a week, I can’t find my Visa at the moment, and sometimes I drink cold coffee that I left in my car from the day before.”

I get that kind of disaster.

I am that kind of disaster.

I freaking love Dolly Parton.

Luke says it’s kind of odd that I do, and maybe it is.  I’m pretty far away from the Southern, self-professed white trash Dolly Parton lifestyle.

But my goodness I love that woman.  I love her lyrics and her style and her twang. I love that she is wholly, unabashedly herself.  I think that’s the main thing that makes me love her.  In the great words of Kelly Oxford, I like the idea that we can contain our weirdness but prefer people who wear their weirdness all over them.

I especially prefer women who wear their weirdness all over them.

Elizabeth Arden is doing a contest with Self Magazine that you should know about.

Flawless Future, their new product, is aimed towards women ages 25-40 who are experiencing the first signs of aging brought on by stress and not sure what product to use.

This is where you come in.

(Not that you’re stressed/aging/ANYTHING, just that you can enter the contest.)

Take a picture of yourself showing your flawless skin and enter the contest right here.

My entry is the selfie above.  A gust of wind interrupted my picture taking, and, well, there we go.

There will be a total of 3 Grand Prize winners who will receive an Elizabeth Arden Beauty Collection valued at up to $300.

Also everyone who enters automatically gets a sample of the Flawless Future product.

Good odds, etc.

I really like this essay on beauty and makeup and being a woman.

I’ve been thinking about beauty a lot lately.  In It’s Kind of a Funny Story, a book I finallllyyyy read this week, the main character ends up in the psychiatric ward because he’s so stressed about being smart, having a successful future.

The girl he falls for at the hospital is there because she was so stressed about being pretty, the game of beauty.

Men and women right there.  The two different commodities the world tells us we have and how we cope with the pressures.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot.

She was becoming herself and daily casting aside that fictions self which we assume like a garment with which to appear before the world.  –Kate Chopin, The Awakening.

Texts from Jane Eyre by Mallory Ortberg– The Yellow Wallpaper

 

Poppet

I couldn’t help but notice

that the gate at the top of the stairs was ajar

Oh?

which suggests to me

that a certain someone

has been going downstairs

can you think of who that might be?

Oh dear

Oh John, I’m sorry

I called for you but you weren’t at home

no one was home

and I was so thirsty

Darling

you know that going downstairs makes you hysterical

I know

It’s called a rest cure, my love

Not a going downstairs cure

How right you are

you’d better stay in bed the time

or someone’s going to lose her sitting up in bed privileges

Cait told me that the best recommendation I’ve ever given her is The Girls’ Guide to Hunting and Fishing, but my second best recommendation is Stevie Nicks singing Crash.

Blog!  I apologize for not sharing this with you sooner.

I listen to this song every day.

You should too.

(It’s available on iTunes)

PS: My two favorite Dolly Parton pictures here and here

Wikipedia: The Not So Glamorous World Of Celebrity Pictures

12 Mar

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I cannot be the only one to have noticed that some celebrity Wikipedia pictures are downright alarming.

I guess this comes with the internet territory. When anyone and everyone can contribute to something, mistakes will be made, information will be questionable, and pictures will be taken from awkward mid-sneeze moments.

It’s just weird to me — celebrities have thousands of stunning red carpet photos out there and yet somehow, someone said, “Yes. That one. Let’s take the photo where he looks constipated and put it on the first site everyone goes to for information. That’s a great idea.”

I don’t understand.

Here are 16 utterly beautiful celebrities who have utterly odd Wikipedia pictures. Let’s not understand together.

 Read the rest of my article for Portable here.

And now my latest for SheKnows…

Shower designs so modern they look sci-fi (I have very nerdy brothers who taught me in the ways of Klingon so I manage quite a few Star Trek references in this one.)

And now I’m out.

(How am I supposed to end these blog posts?  Any ideas?)

New Year, New Word

22 Jan

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Yes, I do own and wear a Star Wars shirt.

If you’ve watched any television show with me EVER, I have:

1) Assigned you a character from the show

2) Assigned myself a character from the show

3) Assigned a character from the show to every important person in my life, complete with well-thought-out reasoning and personality analyses

You could say I like assigning things.

I thought this was normal until I was talking to a friend one day who had never done this. Like ever.

“Wait, so who is your Friends character?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.”

NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT IT? WHAT DO YOU DO WITH YOUR TIME?

I’ve been told before that this need to categorize is annoying. “Just watch the show! Not every character has to relate to your life!” I can’t help it. I love putting words to things. And just so you know, I’m a Ross.

In Eat, Pray, Love, The Great Elizabeth Gilbert does something similar–she assigns words to cities. She says:

Every city has a single word that defines it, that identifies most people who live there. If you could read people’s thoughts as they were passing you on the streets of any given place, you would discover that most of them are thinking the same thought. Whatever that majority thought might be – that is the word of the city.

I adore this concept for a million reasons, but mainly because ever since I read Eat, Pray, Love I’ve been assigning words like crazy–to cities, events, people. And then at the end of the year, I assign a word to the year.

2012 my word was healing.

I didn’t know that at the time. I was just living life, trying to make it through, but at the end I could see it. I started 2012 broken and ended it…not.

What will my 2013 word be? I wish I knew in advance. I wish that someone would just say, “Hey Jill, your 2013 word will be mortgage!” or “Heads up, 2013 will be the year of the perfect hair.” Then I could plan for the sudden financial windfall that will enable me to buy a home or hang my life’s hopes on a haircut. How delightful would that be? Alas, I will have to wait and experience it as it happens. I’m bad at that.

I want my 2013 word to be “writer.” Can I say that? I’m always so embarrassed to admit that, but I’m getting better at owning up to it.

What was your word for 2012?