1. I don't understand the reaction to Paula Deen's announcement that she has diabetes. I think someone going through something like that in private, let alone with a billion people watching, deserves compassion. Yes, she fries food and she cooks with fat and salt. But I've never heard her say "You should eat food like this three times a day, seven days a week.". Not even one time. She herself said she only tapes 30 days a year, and I've only seen her take a couple bites of each dish on camera. So that probably means she's not cooking and eating like this every day either. The woman pulled herself up by her boot straps, doing the only thing she knew how to do in order to provide for her kids at that time. Nobody is forcing people to cook and eat her recipes, just like nobody is forcing people to eat at McDonald's or smoke cigarettes. So Paula Deen building a life off of biscuits and gravy and then getting judged harshly when she gets diabetes feels a lot like a woman dressing provocatively occasionally and getting blamed for being sexually assaulted. Also people, mind your own beeswax. Sheesh.
2. Rush Limbaugh probably gets paid per click or each time his name is mentioned. As nauseating as it can be to swallow fury, maybe the best thing to do is to remain totally silent and unresponsive. If the squeaky wheel loses it's audience, eventually it will stop squeaking because nobody is listening anyway. Won't it?
3. Late Oscar note: Angelina - You have a family with one of the sexiest men ever created. You should be languishing in the most cushy comfort zone known to humankind. So what was with the forced Barbie pose in your dress? It just felt weird, even if your measurements do match Barbie's exactly. If the dress only works with the stick figure leg poking unnaturally out of the slit, then the dress isn't working. You know that. Suggestion: Start planning your next gown now, and each day, as you review the sketches, EAT A MAYONNAISE SANDWICH AND SOME PIE.
4. General awards show note: Why do stars act surprised when their name is called as the winner of the award? There is generally a 1-in-5 chance it's going to happen, and no matter how many times they skipped math class when they were in school, I'm pretty sure they understand those odds. So stars, if your name is called, stop looking like Taylor Swift does after every performance when people clap for her (I love you Taylor, but girl, all your teenage gawk and awe is gone now...move on from looking surprised when people do what comes naturally as a singer finishes a song.). Also, stars, if you are going to cry, please make sure you actually cry. I don't want a shaky voice, and an angst-filled facial expression, and no actual tears. You aren't going to get another award for this performance, no matter how good it is. And if you can't fake a few tears, it ain't that good. So if you feel overwhelmed, let the mascara run. And if you don't feel overwhelmed, for the love of Christ, compose yourself, graciously accept, thank Jesus and everyone else, and go make your next million. Don't feel bad, I'd be slap happy too.
5. Who, exactly, do I think is going to come up behind me and pick up the dog hair/shoe/corner of a granola bar wrapper/backpack/ blueberry/tissue/dried mac and cheese noodle/pencil that I just walked by? Every time, I look at it on the floor, roll my eyes, and mentally summon the energy to bend over (for the 100th time that day) to pick it up. I'm actually trying to mentally summon the Magic Clean-Up Fairy, but it turns out that if it's on the floor, it's going to be me at some point picking it up. Because unfortunately for me, I am the Magic Clean-Up Fairy. Granted, when the traveling husband isn't traveling, he picks up a lot of dog hair. Also, the puppy enjoys eating socks and underwear, so if I could get past the whole next-time-that-dumb-pup-eats-clothes-he's-going-from-dumb-to-dead thing, then I would actually appreciate the help. But for now, I need to find a way to fix my broken bender overer, because that thing is tired.
Now you can imagine what my house looks like tonight. May you bask in the glory that is your tidy home, and may you have some pie, too. I hear Paula Deen makes a chocolate one that's so sweet, it'll practically give you diabetes on the spot.
What? Too soon?