Tom Kitten and other calamities

Hi all,

So sorry I've been awol this last couple of weeks. I was trying to free Katie Holmes from the insanity that is Tom Cruise, but alas, I was unsuccessful. Is it just me, or does she have a glassy-eyed look in all the pictures of hers like her mind's permanently situated in its happy place? Personally, I think whoever was Tom Cruise's publicist for 10 years before she was fired and replaced by his sister, deserves serious kudos. He or she sat on a volcano of craziness for years and never let it actually erupt.

When I wasn't running celebrity interventions, I've been busy launching the new book - "I Did (But I Wouldn't Now)" - which is in some stores now, and coming to all stores very soon. You can also buy it now on Amazon or Barnes and Noble.

And, in other news, I've finally joined the new millennium and gotten a page on Myspace. Given that I am over the age of 30, I feel a little like a creepy old person, BUT, some of my 20-something friends say it's the all rage among the kiddies, so I'm trying my hand at it, because you're only as old as you feel right? Anyway, my myspace page is http://www.myspace.com/caralockwood. It's bare and ugly because I am a myspace virgin, but I'm learning folks! If you're on myspace, invite me to be your friend. I think I have three friends at the moment, and one of them is Tom, which doesn't count because he's everybody's friend.

Mom really DOES know best!

Okay, I'm sure you're sick of me singing my own praises by now (I could lie and tell you that I am, too, but really, does a person ever get tired of bragging? I mean, really). My only excuse is that I'm sure I'll get an ugly Amazon review that will make me want to spend the day in bed, and this is just to balance all those out.

Two more reviewers sound off about "I Did" and they agree with Mom:


http://www.romancejunkies.com/artman/publish/article_4708.shtml

and


http://freshfiction.com/review.php?id=7971

Mother always knows best

It's less than a month now until the May 2 release of "I Did (But I Wouldn't Now)" the sort-of sequel/spin off to "I Do (But I Don't)" and I'm excited.

It's gotten at least two good reviews - one from an objective critic and one from my mom, who has never claimed to be objective, but has said, repeatedly, "I think this is the funniest novel I've ever read, and I'm not just saying that because I'm your mother and I have to."

Mom also says that this novel is funny until the very end, and doesn't let you down, like some other books do. That's mom-speak for "I liked it. I REALLY liked it! And I'm not just saying that because I'm your mother."

Now, if that doesn't sell you on the book, I don't know what will. This is my mom we're talking about. Forget the New York Times. Moms always know best.

Now, I won't tell you what my brother has to say on the subject, namely because he doesn't read my books. In general, his motto is "I don't read anything except the sports section" and if pressed, he'll say, "You want me to read this? It has purple on the cover!"

Viva la France

In keeping with my last post on international exposure, I thought I'd share a fan letter from France I got this week about the French-translated "I Do (But I Don't)":

Hi,

I have just finished "Mariages, etc..." and I loved your book...
It's not so easy for me to explain in English, but your book was
fantastic, I laughed a lot, and even in Paris it rained a lot,
your book was a sun shine for me!

It was a real pleasure, and i hope to read your books very soon.
Thanks a lot
From Paris, and under the rain!

I'm international, baby! Actually, it was quite fun to get the French fan letter, and I was doubly glad that it came in English. I nearly flunked French in college. We had a language requirement, and I made the mistake of signing up for an 9 a.m. five-day-a-week language course during my freshman year. I didn't realize how early 9 a.m. was in college. I believe I slept through half of those classes, which is probalby why I nearly failed.

Kudos to my French fan. If I'd tried to write a French author in French, I would've probably started an international incident. I think the only word I remember is "Bibliotheque" - the word for library. That's exactly what my dad wants to hear after paying my tuition, too.

Did anyone order Thai?

In The New York Times last week, they wrote about how chick lit is finding an international market, popping up in countries all over the world.

This week, my publisher sent me copies of "I Do (But I Don't)" translated into Thai. The cover is attached, here, but don't ask me to translate, because the only Thai I know is "pad Thai" or "Panang curry" which I don't think counts.

I keep teasing my husband that I'm going to rocket to fame in Thailand, just like David Hasselhoff became a rock star in Germany, where he's more popular than Brad Pitt. I can't wait for the interview in Bangkok where I talk about how Americans just don't appreciate my singing and dancing talent.

The Thai version of "I Do" is actually its second tranlsation. Last year, it was translated into French. And Pink Slip Party is currently available in Norweigan.

I think Norway has to be my favorite international cover (see right). The kick-in-the-pants is pretty much the universal sign for being laid off. And come on, can you beat the Scooby Doo like cartoon? I think not!

If only this had been the American cover, I think Pink Slip would've hit the New York Times Bestseller list for certain.

Baby Fat

Okay, so I'm not a huge fan of Britney Spears, but even I have to admit the side by side photo (shown here) that's been running on TMZ.com is a bit harsh. The photo shows Britney pre-baby from April 2003 to post baby April 2006.

You see, there's a rumor going around that Brit and K-Fed are expecting - again. There's another rumor going around that Britney just can't lay off the KFC. What neither rumor considers however, is THIS plausible explanation: Maybe it takes more than 2.3 seconds to lose baby fat.

Heaven forbid that a celebrity have a baby and then not get into Playboy Centerfold shape in three months. For once, I think we ought to lay off Britney. She's not endangering her child here and she isn't risking hepatitis by walking barefoot into a trucker bathroom. The only thing she's guilty of as far as I can tell is perhaps bad judgment in choosing the two-piece.

Equal Rights Now... For Men?

Normally, I don't discuss political issues, unless you consider red carpet attire political, and I suppose it is, in Hollywood. But, I read about this story today, and I couldn't help myself.

A 25-year-old man in Michigan is suing his ex-girlfriend claiming he shouldn't have to pay child support because he didn't want the baby. By the way, nothing says Stand Up Guy like one who wants to go on record on CNN telling the world he told his girlfriend to abort their daughter. You know, because that'll never get back to her, when she's say, 16.

While that in and of itself has a definite slime factor (he's clearly in the running for Deadbeat Dad of the Year Award), what I found even funnier was the National Center For Men, which is a group advocating "equal rights" for men, who are calling this lawsuit the the "Roe v. Wade" for men.

I went to their web site to see "their issues." I was expecting to see a "Keeping the Toilet Seat Up" campaign, but what I found instead was a laundry list of gripes, including:

1. Men don't live as long as women
2. Women have complete control over their reproductive rights, but men have no control, and can have parenthood "forced" upon them.
3. Men get screwed in most divorces
4. Men earn more money, but women spend more (yeah, not kidding on this one!)
5. Men have to make the first move in most new sexual relationships

Well, I don't know about you, but I don't really feel sorry for men on any of these counts. I didn't realize that our society was oppressing men (keeping them away from drugstores, where latex products are sold, for instance). I like men, and I do think it's not easy to be one (especially in these metrosexual days), but I just don't buy that most guys are at a social disadvantage to women, unless you're talking about how we get to wear much cooler shoes, and then I agree. Then again, our shoes are far less comfortable than yours are.

And the Oscar goes to....

Jon Stewart.

All right, so (my favorite comedian - go Daily Show!) took some harsh words after his hosting of the Oscars Sunday night (my equivalent of the Superbowl). I am going to defend him here, even though I have nothing whatever to do with the movie industry - save that "I Do (But I Don't)" Lifetime Movie, and well, we all know that can't win any Academy Awards - although it should. You know, at least for Best Screenplay.

At any rate, I watch the Academy Awards every year. Why? I don't know. I like movies, yes, but it's the same reason I watch the podium ceremonies at the Olympics, I suppose. I want to see somebody acheiving their life dream, and I want to see some tears, people. It's the same reason I watch Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. I know I'm being manipulated, but I don't care! Pass the Kleenex. Sniff. Sniff.

Sunday night's Oscars lacked tears, yes (most of the winners, even make-up artists were like 2-time winners, so this was old hat). And some TV critics said it lacked laughs from host Stewart. They put him in the same category as David Letterman and Chris Rock - edgy comedians that just didn't play well at the Kodiak Theatre.

Well, here's what I want to tell Hollywood and the Academy (because, you know, they'll listen to me): Edgy comedians are - hello? - EDGY. If you put them on stage at the Oscars, they are going to poke fun at Hollywood. And personally, I found Jon Stewart hysterical. When he joked after a pompous montage of clips from socially important and relevant movies that "And none of those issues were ever a problem again" - Hilarious.

I think Hollywood in general ought to stop taking itself so seriously at Award shows and start taking movie making a little more seriously (At the Oscars we were told to go see more movies in the theatre, but our choices this weekend inlcuded a movie about a teenage mermaid and a remake of Pink Pather. Thanks, but I'll pass).

Other sure-fire ways to improve the Oscars:

1. More Jon Stewart, less musical numbers involving interpretive dance.
2. More acceptance speeches, less not-so-funny spoofs on acceptance speeches
3. More booze (like the Golden Globes), less montages promoting the social value of Hollywood.


But then, again, it doesn't really matter what they do, because I'll be watching again next year. Even if they ask Billy Crystal back (please, don't get me started on his musical intro numbers - ack!).

You Like Me. You Really Like Me.

The first advanced review of my new book "I Did (But I Wouldn't Now)" (soon to be released May 2) is in, and it's positive!

For those of you interested in reading someone else praise my talents (and I know I am), check out Fallen Angel Reviews.

My husband wanted to know if "Fallen Angels" included Lucifer, and if I'd sold my soul for a good review, but I assure you, dear readers, this is not the case. I have no affiliation with Fallen Angels, other than agreeing on their excellent taste. And, for the record, if I was selling me soul, frankly, I'd hold out for the New York Times. My soul doesn't come cheap, okay?

"I Did (But I Wouldn't Now)" is a spin-off of my first book, "I Do (But I Don't)" and it follows the misadventures of Lauren Crandell's little sister, Lily. For those of you who don't know Lauren, she's the neat-freak, compulsive wedding planner from "I Do (But I Don't)" (ahem - Now an Original Lifetime Movie starring Denise Richards).

I must apologize for my blatant marketing message. I suffer from a sad condition known as Compulsive Shameless Self Promotion. I am getting help. I am.

In the meantime, as I seek recovery, let me just say "I Did" is now available for advanced purchase on Amazon. Okay, that's it. Last bit of compulsive marketing.

A Return to Abnormalcy

So, a hopeful writer writes:

"When you are writing a book, what does your schedule look like? I am trying to write and I have bursts of genius and lulls where like you, I would rather watch curling than be creative. I would appreciate any light you could shed on helping me figure out what is 'normal.'"

First of all, I think that like body shape and how much pop culture you can take, there really isn't any such thing as normal, except what's normal for you. I, for instance, find that my creativity often goes in spurts, too, and it's really great if my creative fervor happens to coincide with a looming deadline. Not so good if it doesn't.

I am not very good at scheduling or time management, which is probably why I fritter away most of the day IMing, emailing, and talking on the phone. Given that one of the perks about being a writer is sitting at home in your fuzzy slippers all day, I have to work hard to make sure I don't become a social hermit.

Once that's taken care of, I typically realize about 7 p.m. that I've wasted the whole day and I ought to get to work. My husband thinks this a concerted effort to avoid him when he comes home, but really, it's just a by product of procrastination. I find I do my best work from 8 p.m. to 2 a.m. most days, but that's because I'm a night person.

Also, because my books are under contract to a very large publisher (Simon and Schuster) I am usually staring down a very difficult deadline (Average time to write a book: 7-8 months). So, typically, in the last two months, I'm writing all the time, whether I'm in the mood for it or not, because I really don't have a choice, unless I want to take my book advance and fly to Costa Rica, and the sad fact is I don't speak Spanish.

But, if there's anything I can tell you, it's this: If you're in the mood to write - by ALL MEANS WRITE! It's hard enough to do when you feel like doing it. Trust me, when you have an editor calling you about deadlines it's even less fun.

Also, I've found that if I write a little bit - even if it's just an hour - a day, that helps keep me in the story, and keep my brain thinking about the story I'm working on. So, I guess, ultimately, my advice is write a little bit every day (if you can) and make writing a priority especially when your creative juices are flowing.

Gold Medal in Procrastination

I have to admit that it’s simply amazing I finished one book, not just three (going on four). It’s true. I have a procrastination problem. To give you an idea, I was supposed to be working on revisions to my newest book (a teen, youth lit venture called Bard Academy) and I got distracted this morning by the women’s gold medal curling competition.

As if actually watching two hours of curling (think shuffleboard meets ice bowling) isn’t enough proof that I would rather do almost anything instead of work, you should know that the USA wasn’t even in the competition. We’re not, after all, known for our curling. The gold medal championship was between Sweden and Switzerland (Sweden won – I know you wanted to know this. Try bringing it up at your next cocktail party, and watch the room’s conversation skid to a halt).

I personally think there ought to be a gold medal in procrastination, because then I would definitely win it – that is, if it was okay if I showed up late, and did almost all of my training in the twenty minutes before the actual competition.

Better yet, we could have an entire Olympics based on procrastination. I already have some of the sporting categories: Computer Solitaire Freestyle, Web Surfing Downhill, Deleting Annoying Chainletter Emails Short Program, and my personal best category, Instant Message Cross Country (this involves IMing people in other states). No one can IM as many people as I can at once. I believe my record for open IM windows at one time was nine. Sure, Sasha Cohen can skate, but can she type as fast as I can? I think not.

So bring on the medal competition. I’m ready to fly to Torino. At least, I’ll be ready right after I finish this round of Yahoo Chess.

My Fake Memoir

I'm sure many of you have heard of the James Frey controversy. The author of "A Million Little Pieces" was officially spurned by Oprah, and made a pariah on her hour-long special berating the former addict who likes to lie.

The thing is, I sort of feel a little sympathy for Mr. Frey. I mean, let's face it, if I wrote a truthful memoir, then it would involve me in my pajamas 80 percent of the time, where my most exciting event of the day would involve me standing in front of my refrigerator, sniffing at old yogurt and trying to figure out whether or not it's edible, even if it's three days past it's due date.

It's not exactly the sort of mind-blowing, nail-biting, page-turning writing that makes for a best-selling memoir. I suppose that's why I write fiction. My own life is pretty darn boring.

Still, I can understand why people feel angry about being mislead by Mr. Frey. But, I also think there are bigger problems in the world than having one author mislead us about whether or not he got a root canal without novocain. I am a big believer in the power of books, but I also think books only take us so far.

And I'm going on record as saying that if I ever write a memoir, trust me, I will exaggerate. In it, I'll be model-thin, tall, and have never had a zit my entire life. Oh, and in every argument I ever had with my husband, I was totally right. And for that last one, I don't even have to lie.

Freedom Fries, Supersized

Okay, so I should tell you about how I wowed them at the Japanese American National Museum in Los Angeles Saturday, where I gave a reading and signing for Dixieland Sushi. And by "wowed" I mean that I totally impressed the dozens of relatives who showed up (Second, Third, and even cousins of cousins were there).

But, frankly, the big news is that I finally, at long last, sampled the famous In and Out Burger. You can see where my priorities are. And yes, that's me in the picture below caught by Dad in mid-squat urgently focused on finding some ketchup. You see, I'm very focused when there are french fries around, and I don't care about much else, including how bad my hair is. Next to me is Grandma Mitzi, and across from me is my Stepmom Patty.

By the way, I was not alone in my pilgrimage to In and Out Burger. The line for the drive through (not pictured here) had 35 cars in it. Not kidding. 35! And I thought White Castle was bad at two in the morning.

Thanks to everyone who came out on Saturday. It was great to see everybody!

Extreme Home Bedroom Makeover

Okay, I must apologize for being AWOL for the last week. I painted and redid the floors in my bedroom, which seemed like a good idea until it dawned on my halfway through the project that I am not a handy person. In fact, I'm the sort of person that when I got into Home Depot, I ask questions that make the workers there either a) laugh or b) ask me if my husband knows what I'm doing.

Home Depot sexism aside, my husband is actually even less handy than I am, which is why when our friends Eric and Shannon come to visit (Eric - a former contractor) we ask him to do things like replace our light fixtures. It's probably why they don't visit very often.

Anyway, I've been working for a week, and I can't actually raise my arms all that well, which is not a problem for typing, but is a problem for hailing cabs. Luckily, I don't need to hail very many.

I am at this moment at the airport, waiting to head out to Los Angeles. I'll be at the Japanese American Museum tomorrow at two p.m. for those of you in the area. I think my entire extended family will be there. They'll be the people with all the cameras. Don't let the flashbulbs blind you.

I'll be back next week with more witty, semi-witty, or not-at-all witty witticisms. Til then, have a good weekend!

I'll be back on Monday.

What's News To Me

So, Adeline writes:

"Can't wait for your next book!! MORE MORE... I want more books from you..."

First off, thank you Adeline! You have impeccable taste. Seriously. I mean it. Flattery will get you everywhere.

As to the next book, "I Did (But I Wouldn't Now)" is out at the end of April, and you might want to start lining up at your neighborhood book store right now, because I know there will be more people in line to buy it than the last Harry Potter book. Okay, maybe not quite as many. You know, maybe like about 99.9 percent less people, but who's counting? I mean, you know, aside from me.

In the meantime, February 11 I'll be in Los Angeles at the Japanese American Museum signing copies of Dixieland Sushi. I've never done a museum signing before, and I wonder if this means that I'll need to watch a lot of PBS before I go, you know, just so I don't seem like a moron.

There's an interview with me on their web site, just in case you just can't get enough of Cara-Time. I know. I'm like crack. One whiff and you're addicted.

http://store.yahoo.com/janm/dixielandsushi.html

Hope everybody has a great weekend! I'll be back next week after I've overdosed on my weekly intravenous feeding of Vh-1 and E! (I just don't feel like myself unless I watch at least three hours of the each station on the weekend).

Spawn of Brangelina

So, I'm sure everybody's heard about the Spawn of Brangelina by this point. Everything I've read has people betting that this will be the best looking baby on planet earth. But, frankly, who wants that kind of pressure? I mean, what if he/she isn't the perfect human being? What if - gasp - he or she is... ugly? It's possible, people. It's what's called God having a sense of humor. The joke is always on us.

At any rate, I don't think the media's been more interested in a baby since, well, since Federline's #3 (Spears #1).

Now, here's the thing. I am not going to take sides or join Team Jolie or Team Aniston. Let's face it. Brad has paid dearly for his defection. Would you really want to jet off to Haiti or Zaire every weekend? To do volunteer work? I mean, look, I realize the humanitarian aid is commendable, I do. But, frankly, I am way too lazy for that. So call me uncaring, but I don't want the jetlag or the Dysentery.

And trust me, after awhile, the whole humanitarian thing will wear thin. It's like when you first start dating a guy and he SWEARS he loves your friends and/or Lifetime and/or dumb romantic comedies. This is called The Honeymoon Period. It's the same time that we pretend that we don't care that he leaves the toilet seat up or his dirty socks on the floor. After six months, though, all bets are off. We stop being nice.

One of these weekends in the not too distance future, I foresee a Brangelina fight that goes something like this:

Angelina: Come on, Brad. Time to go.

Brad: Dammit, Angelina! The game is on! And we just went to Zaire LAST weekend!

Angelina: You're so selfish! Think about the children.

Brad: I am thinking about the children. Speaking of, just WHEN are we going to stop adopting? I thought you were just kidding when you said one from every country. I never thought you were serious!

Red Carpet, How I Love Thee

So, after watching hours and hours of playoff football with my husband over the weekend, my time for revenge was at hand. Monday night, I had control of the TV to watch the Golden Globes, or as I like to call it, the AFC Championship of Drunk Celebrities.

This year, however, the Big Show wasn't the Golden Globes at all, but the pre-show on E! where Isaac Mizrahi, stylist guru, proved that no question was too personal. After asking all the actresses about their underwear (and whether or not they were wearing any), he asked Eva Longoria if she had a Brazilian and fondled Scarlett Johansson's boobs in the name of investigating Valentino's built-in shelf support system. All I can say is that for a gay man, Mizrahi shows an unusual interest in actresses' nether regions.

I'm not sure if he was on drugs, or looking for them, since he rifled through so many purses, as if hoping to find a dime bag or two. I'm not sure who's worse. Mizrahi or Joan Rivers (who was notorious for forgetting nominees' names or putting them in the wrong movie). But still, you have to give Mizrahi credit for mixing things up a bit. I suppose I might want to rifle through Terri Hatcher's clutch, too, if I had to hear the catch phrase "It takes a village" 1,000 times by different actresses in reference to getting ready for the Globes.

The Red Carpet antics were so good, I couldn't help but be disappointed by the actual show. This, of course, happens every year. Kudos to Harrison Ford, though, for bringing his drink on stage. It was the best reminder that these are the drunk version of the Oscars, where it's perfectly acceptible to tell all the viewers at home you were in the bathroom when your name was announced for an award.

At any rate, the Golden Globes is just a warm-up to the Big Night: the Oscars. My husband likes to say that he "trains" himself for football playoffs by marathon TV watching/snacking. It's not easy to sit still for 8 hours. I'm taking a similar approach with the Oscars. After two hours of Globes pre-show and three hours of award ceremony, I'm in good shape for the Oscars. Then again, it's sad when I have to "get in shape" for sitting on the couch. But that's what happens when you don't see the inside of a gym for months.

That's How I Roll

Okay, so I've posted TWICE IN ONE WEEK! I'm back, baby. Well, okay, so I'm just procrastinating because I don't want to work, but you know what that means. It means we can procrastinate together. Oh, yes, sweet procrastination!

I felt I ought to give a shout out to my friend, Bethie. We had our Bad Movie Night last night, which is seriously the best concept ever. We get together for pizza and wine and watch one of the best bad movies of all time (the last showing was "Showgirls," which if you've ever happened to catch the Vh-1, edited for TV version, you have to agree the drawn-in cartoon bras are hysterical).

Last night's showing was "Glitter," starring Mariah Carey as a young singer who falls in love with a white DJ named "Dice" who can't quite settle on his accent (Is he from Brooklyn or Australia? He just doesn't know - it adds to his mystique). He also asks Mariah if she "blows" (which according to DJ slang, isn't a sexual innuendo at all, but a sincere question about her singing ability). Yeah, okay, I'm not that hip to street lingo, but I'm pretty sure that if a guy asks you if you "blow" he's not talking about whether you can hit the high notes.

Like all truly bad movies, "Glitter" can be turned into a drinking game. Every time Dice says "aw'rite" in false New York/Australian accent - drink! Every time Mariah wears inappropriate silver body paint (a not-so-subtle tie-in to the title "Glitter") - drink! Every time Mariah wears her hair in a disturbing side-pony tail - drink! Every time Mariah shows only the right side of her face - drink! By the way, I think Bethie and I have solved the mystery of the no-left profile rule for Mariah. We're pretty sure she's got a snaggle tooth on that side. And yes, this IS the point of Bad Movie Night - to find profound truths through the zoom/pause buttons on the DVD remote.

By the way, for those of you who haven't seen "Glitter," it's worth the entire movie just to see the end (Mariah wobbling on the grass in stilettos to go see her long-lost mother). It's fantabulous - which according to my make-believe version of Webster's dictionary, means "awesomely bad." I should warn you, though. Do not watch the movie alone, or without the presence of alcohol. Both are needed to make it the best worst movie ever.

New Year's Resolution #5: Watch More Vh-1

So, I'm sorry I've been incommunicado this last week. I'm sure you all thought - "wow - that was SOME hangover" considering that I've been mute for a week. And yes, it WAS a serious hangover, but not one-week-in-bed serious. I've actually been working. I know - somebody call the Guinness Book of World Records, because this is the longest period of time I've gone without watching E! or Vh-1.

I'm finishing up final edits on "I Did (But I Wouldn't Now)" which is due out at the end of April. You can already buy advanced copies on Amazon. And, I'm also finishing "Wuthering High" a Bard Academy Book.

In the meantime, here's a sneak peak of the Bard Cover. It'll be a great book (I hope!) for teens, and also for adults looking for a little escape back to their younger years. If you like Buffy the Vampire Slayer (and come on, who doesn't?) you might like this, too. Miranda, the main character, is shipped off to a reform boarding school, but the school is haunted. You'll just have to wait to find out more!

In the meantime, if you're dying for more Cara-time, and I realize that my personality is like an addictive drug, then you can check out this interview on Conversations With Famous Writers. I'm not sure if I technically qualify for "famous," but I'll do my best to try. This morning I'll have to wear giant oversized sunglasses and a designer hobo bag that cost $5,000. Next, I'll run my car straight into a paparazzi van (which will be difficult because I'll have to go find one). Then, I'll complain to everyone who'll listen how fame is so draining, and how no one understands me. Okay, I think I've got the hang of this "fame" thing. I guess I qualify.

Holy Hangover, Batman

I don't know about you, but I feel like a bus ran me over last night, somewhere in between downing glasses of champagne (never a good idea on top of wine and/or cocktails) and the illegal fireworks set off by my husband's friends (across the street from a police station, which goes to show there was lots of alcohol ingested by that point). I am very hung over today, so my apologies for any misspellings, fragments and jokes that are, well, lame. At this point, it's a miracle I am typing at all.

But I should pause a moment and get you guys up to speed. Last night, my husband and I went party-hopping. Okay, so, I do not mean to brag and/or sound like I am ridiculously popular but then again if you ever read this blog, you know that I am pretty shameless when it comes to self-promotion, so it's clear that modesty is not my strong suit. So, yes, that's right, we have friends. Awesome friends who throw parties with fabulous food and lots and lots and lots of booze. The good stuff. Not the watered down drinks of non-name vodka you get at the all-inclusive resorts in Cancun. We took the train into the city, and without the worry of driving, we took full advantage.

The short of it is that the pair of us looked the worse for wear this morning. My husband, in fact, summed it up by saying, "Today is a reminder that it is not good to be stupid." There's nothing like ringing in 2006 with a throbbing headache, a sour stomach and the spins. But let's face it, it's not New Year's unless you spend it on the couch watching E! or Vh-1. Thank God for bad reality TV.

Happy 2006 everybody!