I am losing it
Last night I drempt that Bella went to Nordstrom’s and come home riding a gigantic tricycle and wearing very long, very thick, fake eyelashes. Is there something wrong with me??
Or do I JUST DISCONNECT HER FRIGGIN’ COMPUTER?
Lip Exfoliation
Bella: My lips are a different color, aren’t they?
Me: No.
Bella: Yes, they are. Look.
Me: They aren’t a different color. They’re just chapped.
Bella: Yes, that’s what I mean, they are chapped, so they are two different colors. I exfoliated them.
Me: You exfoliated them??
Bella: Yes, with a toothbrush.
Me: And who gave you that brilliant idea? HELP.COM?
Bella: Yes. They said you are supposed to exfoliate your skin and your lips.
Me: So now, they are more chapped.
Bella: Yes. How did you know that exfoliating my lips would make them MORE chapped?
Me: I don’t know. Somehow, strangely enough, I’ve made it to my ripe old age without ever exfoliating. Lips or skin. Well maybe once. In the shower with a loofa. But then the loofa got moldy so that was the end of that.
Later this evening:
Bella: My lips are still chapped. How long will they take to heal?
Me: I DON’T know. Just don’t shave your eyelids.
Bella: Huh?
What I really want to know is WHO THE HELL are the THEY on Help.com? I want that job.
New York Vs LA: Part I
It ain’t that different. And those of you who are homo-coastal? Well, think again.
Street signs: Equally hard to understand.
Traffic tickets? Equally easy to get.
The Itch: Part III
Today, the most blessed event of my entire week in LA.
Hey mom, guess what I DON’T HAVE anymore???
Let me guess. For those of you who missed Part I and Part 117 of the Odessey of Teen Bikini Shaving, go here: I Got An Itch and The Itch Part 117. That should bring you up to date. Now, if you’ll leave me with my sunset and Pina Colota, I bid you adieu from La La land.
P.S. For those of you who don’t get the relationship between this picture and shaving, there is none. I just wanted to make you jealous of how fucking fantabulous the view from my balcony this week was. But no worries. Tomorrow, the big dirty apple will be under my feet again. (I know it’s been keeping you up nights.)
Paris Hilton Sighting
I had to go to THE IVY while in LA. Ok, I didn’t have to, but I figured Bella’d get a kick out of the celeb hot spot. (I didn’t realize that 2 salads and $90 later…)
The Paps were out. THEN I remembered. Yesterday, when I walked over to make my res, I saw John McCain’s name in the book. JOHN MCCAIN was in there. I was as giddy as the first time I made out with Dave Anish at my first makeout party, before I realized French kissing is an acquired taste.
“Mom, you’re NOT going to pose with him ARE YOU?” OF COURSE. “But you HATE him!” So what? Why should that matter?
But it wasn’t John, it was PARIS. And THERE SHE WAS with Joel or Billy or Billy Joel or whatever his name was. I whipped out the cannon. “I’m sorry, no photo taking,” scolded the matre’d. Shit. Caught. Embarrassed, I slipped my camera in my bag but not before a Pap saw. “Look out, tourist coming through, “yelled the Pap. FUCK YOU!
Well, since the camera wasn’t allowed, I figured I would SNEAK a few photos so you could get a feel:
PARIS ATE HERE:
And, she PEED here:
God DAMN those paps are a pain in the ass. 
Boobs: An experiment in Science and Search Engines
Ok, so I had no traffic today, and I wanted to conduct a little science experiment to see, what, if any, effects this post had on my traffic. And, SORRY, no, these are NOT my boobs, you dirty little devils.
Fear of Flying
I am terrified to fly. Well terrified doesn’t exactly describe my white knuckled,wordless trapse across the country. I don’t take drugs, drink or otherwise occupy myself to make sure that the flight attendants don’t carry me off in a straight jacket. I just sit there and pretend that, well, I’m NOT flying. Top 10 reasons for fear of flying:
10) Falling out of the sky from 35,000 feet.
9) Sharing the air with 265 coughing, hacking people.
8) Crying babies for 6 hours.
7) Paying $10 for food that is unidentifiable. I mean, shouldn’t that be included with my $400 ticket??
6) Sharing a teeny, tiny cube of a bathroom with 265 coughing, hacking people.
5) Having seen the movie
4) Having headphones that don’t work
3) Getting a middle seat
2) Sitting next to a sleeper who leans on your shoulder
1) Spending 6 hours on a plane with no where to go while Bella talks non-stop about bangs, itching, Dumb Boy, insecurity, pimples, and why she hates sceince class.
The thing is, once I do get over the fact that I am 7 miles up, with only the pilot between me and an early demise, the feeling that I have when I look out over the snow capped rockies is only topped when eating the hottest hot fudge sundae while having a foot massage, surrounded by 6 nearly naked young men fanning me who whisper sweet nothings in my ear. (naked just doesn’t seem right)
