As soon as I post something on a subject matter a tad deeper than, say, my BlogHer wardrobe---which so far consists of this dress paired with these earrings, what do you think?---I always get the shakes because it's kind of overwhelming being so metaphorically exposed on the Internet. And then you lovely, wise readers leave me some of the sweetest words I've heard in, oh, ever, and I'm instantly reminded of why I do this---this crazy blogging thing---because I'm never that alone here. And it's kind of wonderful, you know? So, thank you.
Now, let's move on to something else, something equally important: The Top Chef finale which I was COUNTING DOWN TO today. (I stayed home from work and even took a nap just to get me that much closer to 9pm and also because, fine, I was really tired.) So, Stephanie won, and I'm fairly happy about that. I was a bit on the edge of my seat there for a while because the judges were raving about Lisa's dishes and NOOOOOOOO! She couldn't win! I would have been forced to throw things and stomp around and I was just so damn comfortable curled up on the couch. I will say I felt badly for Richard and his bacon ice cream, and then he had to go and cry in his exit interview, so then I had to go and cry, but I am happy for Stephanie and, hey! She's not Lisa! That counts for a lot!
But something that occurred to me while watching the finale: every episode of Top Chef a "guest judge" is introduced---so-and-so from this fancy, random restaurant in San Francisco or New York or, hell, even St. Louis---and every contestant raves and gushes about their awesomeness---"I am so honored and humbled to be cooking for so-and-so from St. Louis! This is the pinnacle of my career!"---and I have to believe there is at least one contestant who walks out to meet a guest judge and is like, "Who the fuck is that?" and then has to totally feign knowing him/her because everyone else apparently knows him/her, and you just can't be that chef who doesn't know. But it's BOUND to happen. You can't possibly know every well-known and respected person in your field. Perhaps you're thinking, Um, yes, you totally can, and to you I say, you must not be watching enough trashy teen dramas or reading enough vampire fiction if you have that much room in your memory. And good for you, truly, but SNOOZE FEST.
Thankfully Weeds comes back this Sunday---thanks Heather B! I was certain the premiere was another few weeks away and I would have missed it and THROWN A TOTAL FIT---to fill the Top Chef gap in my heart. But really my TV-watching has been scaled way down lately. Just to give you an idea, I cleaned out all of my shows on the DVR this afternoon (since I wasn't at work) and we have 21% space left for recording. Do you know what that means? Mike's shows are taking up a whopping SEVENTY-NINE PERCENT and does anyone else think I deserve shoes for this fact, for being married to a man who is so clearly a DVR whore? ME! I THINK I DESERVE SHOES! Although these shoes---which are currently an additional 20% off---aren't available until July 24 (in my size) and what's the point of buying cute shoes AFTER BlogHer? I sort of believe half the reason I'm going is to have an excuse to wear cute shoes every damn day. Which, wow, that's one expensive excuse.
Now, I'm going to wrap this up by asking a question of you, a question that came about when I was e-mailing my sister yesterday about romantic comedies she should rent when her husband is away on a boy's weekend. I told her to rent Catch & Release---which she totally judged and ridiculed me for---but it got us talking about fluffy movies we just love and can't get enough of and are TOTALLY NOT ASHAMED about. For instance, I love Drive Me Crazy---the teen drama that Vince from Entourage was in years and years ago---and I also loved The Notebook which surprised me as much as anyone else since the book, well, TOTALLY BLEW. And I'm curious, what fluffy movies do you love? We don't judge here. (At least not to your face.)