Dunder Mifflin Tiff? As If! The Office BFFs Put it all Down on Paper

What if The Office's Pam and Angela were best friends?  What if, instead of reluctant colleagues who tolerated each other at best and gossiped about each other at worst, they supported each other like sisters?  Surprise! (Or maybe not, as I'm always the last one to the office holiday party.)  In real life, Jenna Fischer and Angela Kinsey are each other's ride-or-die, as chronicled in their popular Office Ladies podcast and now in their book, The Office BFFs.

Weathering work, family, and other woes, Jen and Ange have a friendship that transcends sitcom seasons.  They're so in sync that they've even broken their toes at each other's houses (accidentally, of course, not as part of some weird friends-to-the-end blood oath).  I loved reading about their memories and anecdotes.  Also, it was fun to find out that Angela Kinsey is nothing like the sour and rigid Angela Martin.  She's warm, bubbly, and irreverent -- and clearly an amazing actor!

Still, it's these reflections from Jenna that are my favorite parts of the book:

"Pam's dreams are not extraordinary.  She wants to marry the man she loves, have a family, and feel creatively expressed in her work.  In the end, she gets all three.  It's not lost on me that the series ends when Pam's dreams come true.  The documentary doesn't stop when Michael leaves.  They keep filming.  I like to think that's because they might have been following Pam all along." (223)

Her words go hand in hand with Pam's last words in the finale:

"I thought it was weird when you picked us to make a documentary.  But all in all . . . I think an ordinary paper company like Dunder Mifflin was a great subject for a documentary.  There's a lot of beauty in ordinary things.  Isn't that kind of the point?" (299)

So yeah, The Office BFFs is a sweet, poignant read.  

And now I just may have to become a podcast person.

Shannon Cannon

When I heard that Molly Shannon had written a memoir, I thought, oh, that'll be hilarious.  And it was, crammed with all the outlandish childhood and SNL anecdotes you'd expect.  But Hello, Molly! is so much more than a punchline.  It's ultimately Molly's story of her relationship with her dad.  Her mom and baby sister were killed in a car accident.  Four-year-old Molly and her older sister were also in the car, and their father was the one driving.  I'm going to pause to let that sink in for a moment because it's extraordinarily heavy. 

But -- and I cannot stress this enough -- Hello, Molly! isn't a downer.  It's the bittersweet, clean kind of sad that makes you appreciate life and remember that everything happens for a reason.  Like This is Us, plus comedy.  In other words, it has a good tone (and you know how much I value that).  Molly describes the highs and lows of life with her dad -- and her struggles to make it in showbiz -- with the straight-from-the-heart candor of a coming-of-age novelist.  She always sees the best in everything, even when audition doors are slammed in her face and her father acts more like a child.  Because it all really happened -- and made Molly the lovable, no-holds-barred performer we know today -- it's much more engaging than fiction.      

Of course, you can't talk about Molly Shannon without mentioning Mary Katherine Gallagher.  Or, as Shannon calls her, MKG (not to be confused with that other Irish icon, Machine Gun Kelly).  Shannon created the character while she was at NYU, almost a decade before she crashed into Studio 8H at SNL.  And it turns out that everyone's favorite painfully earnest, awkward Irish Catholic teen is based on Shannon herself.  Shannon joined SNL in 1995, so I remember the MKG years vividly.  And the sketch that stayed with me the most is the one where she's reenacting a scene from A House Without a Christmas Tree.  Not only is it cringeworthily funny, it's heartbreaking, showing Mary Katherine at her most vulnerable, reminding you that she's just a kid from a dysfunctional family who wants the world to love her.  After learning about her life, it rings even truer.  

Raw and sweet and hysterical, Hello, Molly! is an American tale (and no, not like when Fievel goes west; although, on second thought, maybe?).  It embodies timeless themes that readers hold dear: Midwestern girl makes good, optimism in the face of incredible odds, and an unorthodox but unbreakable father-daughter bond.  It's universal, its magic extending far beyond SNL.  At the end, I felt like hers was a life well lived (not that it's over yet!), brimming with love and adventure.  

No doubt about it, she's a Superstar.

Pasta for Dinner, Wacky Waving Figure: Mama Mia, What a Mother's Day

Once again, it's that day in May when we take time to honor our mothers.  To say thank you for cutting the crusts off all those PB&Js, showing up for every game and recital, and placing every hideous trinket we ever gave you in pride of place on the bookshelf.  Even when we whined, cried, and screamed.  And sometimes said I hate you.

For those and many other reasons, you deserve more than a macaroni necklace.  And that's not even counting the childbirth part.

My own mom taught me so many wonderful things, including how to read and accessorize.  I don't have to tell you that both came in handy, as I've devoted my life to books and baubles.

So Mom, in keeping with Arcade Fire's performance on last night's SNL, please accept this Wacky Waving Figure as a token of my appreciation:

Not literally, though.  Because I gave it to the husband for Christmas, and I think he'd really miss it.  But it's the thought that counts, right?  

Which puts us back in macaroni necklace territory.  

Then again, what's a macaroni necklace if not the combo of the perfect food and jewelry?

What I'm trying to say is, you get it.  You encouraged every wacky dream (and outfit!) I ever had, listened to every stray thought and worry.  So thanks for always cheering me on and being the best mom -- and friend -- I could ever hope for.  

I love you.  Happy Mother's Day!

D is for Denim and C is for Venom: Just Kidding, but I Still Hate Caddies

Bag: Sleepyville Critters, Zulily

Top: Simply Vera, Kohl's

Tiger Heat Necklace

Skirt: Rewind, Kohl's

Sweater: Mudd, Kohl's

Boho Beach Necklace

Bag: Ella & Elly, Zulily

Shoes: Chase & Chloe, Zulily

Top: So, Kohl's

Awesome Arches Necklace

Skirt: Almost Famous, Kohl's

Bag: Mellow World, Kohl's

Scarf scrunchie: Wild Fable, Target

Sunny Seahorse Necklace

Top: So, Kohl's

We've all heard of mom jeans (I'm looking at you, SNL JCPenney jeans skit that I've referenced too many times).  And even boyfriend jeans.  But dad jeans?!  Until about a month ago, I thought that phrase was limited to being about inheriting the ability to tell corny jokes.  Yet apparently, it also describes a super wide, super comfortable, and (at least on me) super long cut of denim.  I almost wore this patched pair to Target but thought better of it, not wanting to trip and become a cleanup on aisle five.  

Jeans: So, Kohl's

That said, I'm still unsure how to feel about pants named after the patriarchy.  Then again, their vibe is more Woodstock than why-is-there-a-scratch-on-my-Caddy?  So I guess it's okay to hang with the man and keep these in the family. 

Unless, of course, the family's wearing khakis.

Fate Gate: Written in the Scars

In the midnight hour . . .

At the stroke of midnight . . .

Before midnight . . .

Pop culture is rife with allusions to what happens when night melts to morning.  Billy Idol, Cinderella, Ethan Hawke, and countless others have spun or starred in stories about the mythology of the witching hour.  So I knew that Matt Haig's novel, The Midnight Library, would be, if nothing else, mysterious.  Which is always nice around Halloween.  I heard about it on Ivy's Closet, and I don't take librarians' reading lists lightly.  Billy Idol, not so much.  Although I am a fan of '80s pop rock.  And comic relief.  

Anyway, The Midnight Library is the story of Nora Seed, a multi-talented but depressed thirty-five-year-old caught between life and death in the purgatory of a library -- the Midnight Library.  The librarian is Mrs. Elm, an elderly sage who was Nora's high school librarian.  Mrs. Elm supplies Nora with the Book of Regrets, a tome listing everything she ever wanted to be, including a rock star, an Olympic swimmer, and a philosophy scholar.  Nora picks a regret, then opens the corresponding book to live the life she thinks she missed out on.  Sometimes she stays minutes, other times days.  If it's the right life, then she'll end up staying forever.  But if it isn't, then she'll return to the library to try again.  So, yeah, it's the whole parallel-universe-space-time-continuum-butterfly-effect thing.  Which I could've better explained by saying that Nora works in a music shop called String Theory.  

Nora's journey is fascinating, scary, and sad.  But it's also perplexing.  Because as she test drives more and more destinies, she begins to realize that they're as similar as they are different -- and that she's unsure what it is that will make the right one "right."       

Innovative yet familiar, The Midnight Library elegantly combines the best-loved elements of It's a Wonderful Life, NBC freshman drama Ordinary Joe, and every Choose Your Own Adventure book to deliver a sci-fi-tinged, timeless tale of gratitude and self discovery.  Rich in symbols and nuance, it's also a modern parable about the importance of mental health.  When I reached the last page, I was so engrossed that I didn't want it to end.  Nevertheless, the ending was perfect.  I wouldn't go back in time and/or across universes to change a thing.  

Unlike Billy Idol, who, according to Behind the Music, was caught with the nanny on the baby monitor. 

Play Like a Girl: Peacock Rocks

Clip: Buffalump, Etsy; Necklace: Betsey Johnson, Amazon

Peacock rocks, but I'm not talking about "Peacock" by Katy Perry (although I do like that tune).  I'm talking about NBC's streaming platform and its not one but two new comedies about all-girl rock groups, Girls5eva and We Are Lady Parts.  

Girls5eva follows four forty-something New Yorkers trying to resuscitate their defunct '90s pop group.  The players include Dawn (Sara Bareilles), the sensible one; Summer (Busy Phillips), the dumb one; Wickie (Renee Elise Goldsberry), the crazy one; and Gloria (Paula Pell), the workaholic one.  It's wacky and witty and reminds me of 30 Rock, which tracks because Tina Fey is one of the producers and also cameos as a faux Dolly Parton.  Indeed, Dawn is like the Liz Lemon of the gang, which is to say that she's no-nonsense yet put-upon and the glue that holds them all together.  The songs are hilarious, and the fashion is fierce.  As a bonus, Stephen Colbert, Bowen Yang, and Vanessa Williams guest star.  Girls5eva is a snarky-yet-feel-good treat for anyone who grew up in the '90s or appreciates Fey's brand of humor. 

We Are Lady Parts is the coming-of-age tale of Amina (Anjana Vasan), a twenty-six-year-old Muslim Londoner academic torn between tradition and joining a Muslim punk rock band.  Amina is my favorite kind of heroine, which is to say earnest, awkward, and always getting in her own way.  She has such a severe case of stage fright that she always vomits -- and also sometimes has diarrhea.  Yet We Are Lady Parts frontwoman Saira (Sarah Kameela Impey) is looking for a guitarist and is convinced that Amina is it, barf bucket notwithstanding.  Passionate and serious about her music, Saira spends the greater part of the series resisting her bandmates' pleas to take to social media, insisting that We Are Lady Parts "is not about being famous; it's about being heard."  Being true to yourself and your art, even when it's hard, especially when it's hard, is a major theme in We Are Lady Parts and one that will resonate with artists and misunderstoods everywhere.  

So, two girl power anthems and two ways to rock add up to heart and limitless laughs.  

Peacock, you've got something new to strut about.

Ladies First Curse: Getting Ahead but Flirting With Dead

Cami: Mudd, Kohl's; Skirt: Material Girl, Macy's; Boots: Simply Vera, Kohl's; Bag: Betsey Johnson, Macy's; Belt: Belt is Cool, Amazon

Hairpins, Rite Aid

Midnight Magic Necklace

One of the reasons I love blogging is that it gives me a chance to play with outfits I like but would never wear (for yes, there are some, even for me).  Just like watching TV gives me a glimpse of exciting but dangerous things I'd never do.  Enter today's Goth club kid ensemble and NBC's Good Girls. 

If you've seen Good Girls (or even a commercial), then you know that the dark dramedy, which is in its fourth season, is about three ordinary women who turn to crime when faced with financial hardships.  Set in a suburb of Detroit, it straddles the no woman's land between the mean city streets and the cul-de-sac.  Ringleader Beth Boland (Christina Hendricks) is a domestic diva and mother of four married to her high school sweetheart (Matthew Lillard of Scream fame).  Yet when she finds out that her dear Dean's serial philandering and financial mismanagement have landed them face to face with foreclosure, she's forced to expand her repertoire from baking to burglary.  Beth convinces her sister Annie (Mae Whitman), a wisecracking supermarket cashier, and their lifelong friend Ruby (Retta), a happily married but struggling waitress, to join her in her crime spree crusade.  But no sooner do they commit their first felony than they learn that they've trespassed upon the turf of career criminal Rio (Manny Montana).  Like it or not, "gang friend," as Ruby calls him, soon becomes a fixture in their lives.  Yet as Beth plunges deeper into Detroit's underworld, she discovers that illicit entrepreneurship is the road to not only financial freedom but the kind of fulfillment that she can't get from the PTA.   

Good Girls isn't all back door deals and social commentary, though.  It's also funny.  Annie slings some first-class zingers, and the situations in which the "girls" find themselves are often so ludicrous that you can't help but laugh.  Even the background music is French noir cute reminiscent of A Simple Favor.  Finally, there are more than a few Cloud Nine references, which are an Easter egg of a reminder that the dearly departed Superstore is a fellow Midwestern star in the NBC universe.   

Layered and nuanced, Good Girls is masterfully crafted to make you think twice about everything.  Like this unabashedly badass outfit, it starts off as starkly black and white but eventually reveals shades of gray.  And it's the gray that urges you to question the difference between right and wrong, to wonder what you would do if you too were caught in a catastrophic cashflow catch-22.  Just as it's the gray that makes this sensational story not only entertaining but familiar, becoming the silver lining we seek. 

Still, whenever Rio pops out from the shadows, I can't help but think that baking -- which I usually loathe -- looks pretty good.

Horse With No Shame: How the West Was Fun

Top: Chaps, Kohl's

Camisole: Macy's

Boots: 2 Lips Too, Zulily

Cardigan thingy: Kohl's

Bag: Betsey Johnson, Marshalls

Scarf: Mossimo, Target

Remember those Stetson cologne commercials from the '90s?  The ones with the glamorous cowboy and cowgirl setting off on a horse for a night of romance?  (By the way, get ready for romance -- the word, not the thing -- because I'm going to use it a lot.)  I always found them intriguing, even if I never smelled the dubious drugstore scent they were hawking and knew better than to romanticize people who smell, not like adventure, but horse hide.  Maybe it's because I'm so firmly East Coast and am attracted to anything different.  Kind of like when Maine-bred interim Dunder Mifflin branch manager Deangelo Vickers (Will Ferrell) declared his love for paintings of the Southwest.  

That said, I think my love of western wear, both its bold serape stripes (I see you, Chaps sweatshirt) and blushing prairie florals (right on, Willa Cather-esque cardi), is rooted in delusion, er, idealism, much like Deangelo Vickers's.  It's a way for me to experience the wild west's romance without having to endure its hardscrabble reality. 

Because if there's anything I hate, then it's stuff described as hardscrabble.  

See above thing about smelly horses.

Musical Muse Clues: Mix Tape of the Mind

Clockwise: The Beatles, 1; Beck, Odelay; Better Than Ezra, Greatest Hits; The Black Keys, El Camino

One of my favorite new(ish) TV shows is Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist.  Not to be confused with the movie Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist, this NBC hour-long dramedy is in its sophomore season and is about an endearingly dorky coder named Zoey (Jane Levy) who goes into an MRI machine and emerges being able to hear people's feelings as songs.  As if having an MRI weren't traumatic enough without that added emotional baggage!  

This is probably a good time to mention that when it comes to musicals, I'm usually like, what, people randomly bursting into song?  Pass!  But instead of coming off as a gimmicky Broadway device, the songs in Zoey are real cries for help that add depth to the characters -- and underscore Zoey's responsibility to them.  Zoey's powers are all the more meaningful because they help her connect with her dad (Peter Gallagher), who's dying of a disease that prevents him from speaking, and empathize with her mom (Mary Steenburgen).  Her powers also become valuable as she steps up to boss lady status in male-dominated Silicon Valley, a gig that's fraught with stress and challenges.  Finally, being a mind reader is uber important as Zoey navigates the sometimes-murky-sometimes-rose-colored waters of dealing with love interests Max (Skylar Astin, who was made for this show) and Simon (John Clarence-Stewart).  Max is an earnest and sweet fellow coder that Zoey's known for years, and Simon is a suave yet brooding marketing whiz who understands the pain of losing a father.  When it all gets to be too much, Zoey confides in her annoying neighbor-turned-bestie Mo (Alex Newell), a no-nonsense trans woman with wigs for days.  

Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist appeals to me because it's very much like a book.  Layered and character-driven, it opens a window into people's heads and hearts that usually remains firmly closed.  Fortunately, the heaviness of the revelations is offset by the jazziness of the dance numbers.  

Needless to say, I was psyched when I heard that Jane Levy is nominated for a Golden Globe for Best Actress in a Television Musical Series or Comedy.  In a world where streaming services reign supreme, that's a rare feat for an actor from a network show.  Which means that this nom is -- yes -- something to sing about!  Award category notwithstanding, Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist is still more dramedy than comedy (because you have to be jump-off-a-cliff depressing to qualify as a drama for any award).  It hits all the high notes of the genre, including colorful sets and costumes, romance, heartache, and a sometimes-lighthearted-sometimes-stirring spotlight on self discovery and personal growth.

Zoey doesn't always get it right.  She's as mixed-up as any of us, or indeed as any mix tape made from a radio top ten list circa 1995.  But she's trying and she's learning, and her journey shows us that it's always worth it to walk a mile in someone else's shoes.

Or, at the very least, to listen to a song on someone else's playlist.

Jost Post: The One About Colin

Like most Saturday Night Live fans, I assumed that Colin Jost was 1) spawned from the spotless teak of a yacht anchored at a Connecticut country club, an idea that was only fueled by those Izod ads he did with Aaron Rodgers, and 2) a bro.  But it turns out that he's 1) a fat kid from Staten Island, and 2) a guy who got beat up by bros.  That's right.  He's from New York City's most undesirable borough, i.e., Pete Davidson's brother from another mother.  In retrospect, I should've seen this coming.  Because bros don't become comedians.  They become fry cooks or investment bankers.  I learned these tidbits and others about Jost after reading his book, A Very Punchable Face.  And that's when I began to really like him.  

Because I didn't -- like him, that is -- when he first appeared on Weekend Update.  I was like, "Who is this clown?  He's no Seth Meyers!"  And the husband was like, "Um, he's exactly like Seth Meyers, only not blond."  But I wasn't alone in my rage disappointment.  In Face, Jost parodies the bad press he received after landing the gig (196):

"I rarely use the word 'hate' and I rarely put words in boldface and underline them and italicize them, but I hate Colin Jost." -- USA Tomorrow

"I'm finding out where Colin Jost lives and I'm going to murder him." -- That Stalker Who Came to My House and Tried to Murder Me

"Two Stars." -- My Aunt in Her Annual Christmas Letter

Still, I began watching Update more closely.  Maybe the husband was right; maybe Jost wasn't as pompous as he seemed.  And his subtle, admittedly wry wit was reminiscent of Meyers's.  Over time, I grew to laugh with him instead of at him, and after a couple of seasons, I couldn't imagine Update without his boyish charm (or without Michael Che's snarkiness).  But it wasn't until I read Face that I found out what was really going on behind the man mask.  He's just a regular guy who just happens to have the perfectly coiffed hair of a Ken doll.  What's more, he wasn't some rent-a-rando who crashed SNL to oust Meyers.  He was good friends with Meyers and had been writing with him for years.  Which just goes to show that even after reading countless showbiz autobiographies, including several by SNL alumni, I still don't know how anything works.  

A Very Punchable Face is very funny.  And not just because it's a book-long joke about the scrappy yet eager-to-please, never-say-die bookworm behind Jost's tennis-anyone? kisser.  But because it includes an entire chapter about an adult Jost pooping his pants.  (See?  I told you he was regular.)  Jost also shares his travel adventures, revealing himself to be a bit of an adrenaline junkie.  Then again, you don't get your mug punched without seeking thrills and, intentionally or not, provoking the locals.  

Here's a passage that I particularly liked, partly because of my own past phone phobia, partly because I get the giggles whenever anyone mentions Omaha Steaks:

"I even get scared when the phone rings because I think, I'm not ready to speak yet.  I haven't figured out what to say.  But when I push through that fear and start saying words, I'm instantly relieved.  That's why answering the phone and talking to another human still feels like a huge psychological accomplishment.  (And that's why I currently have 254 un-listen-ed to voicemails.  The oldest is a call from Omaha Steaks in 2007!*)

*My credit card was declined for the "Surf and Turf Sampler" I bought my grandparents for Christmas." (5)

It's hard to imagine the seemingly sophisticated Jost WHO SPEAKS FOR A LIVING as tongue-tied.  Or spending his years at Harvard consorting with cape enthusiasts.  Or getting kicked out of a Russian nightclub, then leaving his host family their requested teddy bears before slinking back to the States.  Or routinely ordering a cheeseburger and nuggets as side dishes for his McDonald's Extra Value Meal.  And those are just the wholesome parts.  But it's all true (despite the husband's belief that every word in celebrity memoirs is fiction).

As for his relationship with wife Scarlett Johansson, Jost doesn't spill much (way to keep it classy).  But he does say that he and Scarlett first met on the set of SNL when he was just twenty-three and she twenty, which was more than a decade before they'd start dating.  Awwww!  

So, yeah.  I liked this book.  And I can't wait to watch Weekend Update again.  Because how can you not laugh with a guy who's so willing to laugh at himself?  

Still, I don't think I'll ever be able to see Jost without thinking, Get this guy a Porta-Potty!

Office Flowers are Always Open

T-Shirt & Jeans, Amazon

LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's

Betsey Johnson, Macy's

This post is about flowers and fruits and veggies and purses (see above carrot barrettes and veggie sweater.  For the record, fashion is the only way I let peas infiltrate my life).  It's also about my home office (a.k.a. the cactus room) where I write these posts, online shop, and pay bills with stamps like an old lady.  But you already knew that, right down to the stamps. 

Flowers make great metaphors.  Especially roses.  As in, "I Never Promised You a Rose Garden" and "Every Rose Has its Thorn".  Even this week's episode of "The Unicorn" (a sitcom about a widower named Wade [Walton Goggins] that I once watched ironically but now genuinely like) had a game called rose and thorn in it.  In an effort to help Wade's seventh-grader daughter Grace open up, his friends Delia (Michaela Watkins) and Michelle (Maya Lynne Robinson) suggest this exercise in which each person shares one good thing that happened that week -- that's the rose -- and one bad thing -- yes, that's the thorn.  And although it didn't ultimately work out -- Delia and Michelle had to reminisce about their own middle school misadventures before Grace finally spilled about her boy troubles -- I found the idea appealing.  So here are some of my roses and thorns from this week.


Roses:

I sold two brooches, one to someone in Arkansas and one to someone in Pennsylvania.

I got a box of free stuff from Kohl's.  No, they haven't decided to reward me for all the blogging I do about their products.  The loot was gratis because I had a "big fat check" from Rakuten and opted to upgrade it to a Kohl's gift card.  Which means it technically wasn't free because I had to spend a lot to get the cashback.  But it made me happy.  So, rose it is.

Thorns:

"This is Us" wasn't on.

My left thumbnail tore below the quick.  Ouch!


Playing rose and thorn is a good way to get stuff off your chest.  Or, even if you play it alone, a way to remain grateful.  For me, it comes in handy when life hands me something more seemingly insurmountable than a week without Jack Pearson's wisdom.  It reminds me to stay positive.  And open to the good stuff.

Like roses.  And '80s hair bands.  

Diamonds are a Girl's Best Spend . . .

 Rainbow Not Quite Rhombus Necklace

Dress: Speechless, Kohl's
Shoes: Ami Clubwear
Bag: Betsey Johnson, Amazon
Belt: Marshalls
Blue and green bracelets: Cloud Nine
Yellow, rainbow, and pink bracelets: So, Kohl's

. . . as long as they're cubic zirconium or, better yet, plastic or shell and merely diamond-shaped, like the one in this here Rainbow Not Quite Rhombus Necklace.  I've recently gotten back into rainbow gumball necklace-making mode, and Rhombus is the simplest of the bunch.  It's kind of short too, which is why I'm not listing it.  Instead I'm looking forward to wearing it with lots of black tops and dresses.  And, of course, to a making many more rainbows. 

On the topic of things that are random, here's a quote from Anna Faris' book Unqualified:

"People who follow their creative passions are fascinating but also complicated, and they all have a tricky combination of narcissism and insecurity." (26)

Although Anna is referring to musicians, specifically musicians she dated, this piques my interest in terms of all artsy types.  Because it's true.  Putting one's stuff out there requires a confidence bordering on cockiness, an awareness that one's stuff is good enough to compete with other stuff on the world's stage.  The insecurity, I think, comes from realizing that not everyone is going to agree with you.  And that's very humbling.  To put your great stuff out there only to have its greatness questioned, mocked, and pelted with banana peels (or, rather, tomatoes.  Banana peels are for hilarious slipping.  Which works here too, if you like metaphors.) is enough to make even the vainest, most resplendent peacock run back to its nest.

By the way, I'm a fan of celebrity autobiographies because I like learning about stars and their childhoods and how they're secretly shy and eat ice cream and hate red carpets and watch bad TV and are just like us!  Even if I sometimes suspect it's not true.  But Unqualified strikes me as genuine.  I've seen Anna Faris on a bunch of talk shows, and she always seems so serious and sad, not at all like her bubbly TV and movie personas.  Of course, this could be due to her split from Chris Pratt.  But she still seems pensive and sensitive.  And that comes through in her book.

Anyway, Anna's comment on creativity reminds me of this more benevolent yet equally intriguing one from John O'Hurley, who is the spokesperson for Philly radio station BEN FM:

"Creativity is intelligence having fun."

I love that.  Because it's so much better when someone smart says, "Let's spray paint "Cowabunga Forever" on that billboard and then write a play about it," instead of "Let's write an equation, then balance our checkbooks."

Then again, O'Hurley, who spouts many a quirky and J. Peterman-like one-liner for the radio waves, also says this:

"The fun isn't in having nothing to do.  It's in having lots to do and not doing any of it."

Anyone who has whiled away a weekend watching Seinfeld reruns amid piles of dirty laundry and dishes no doubt likes the cut of this jib.  Even if it's about laziness instead of creativity.  Unless laziness is a kind of creativity.  In which case, way to go, Peterman.

So, when it comes to spending money and time, fake and playful is better than real and real boring.  Which is not a clever sales tactic to influence you to buy this not-for-sale necklace.

It's just a reminder that diamonds come from blood and are no one's friend.

That was a dark note to end on.  Anyone who thinks it might cause them PTSD should focus on the part about the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles instead.

And also that time when Peterman said, "It'll always be Burma to me."

Mermaid in the Shade: Look at this Stuff, isn't it Sweet?

Heartland and Sand Charm Necklace

Top: Wet Seal
Skirt: Amazon

Shoes: B.A.I.T., Zulily

Bag: Sugar Thrillz, Dolls Kill

Belt: Candie's, Kohl's

Sunglasses: Mudd, Kohl's

 Nautical Nonsense Necklace 

Colorful Carnival Cuff  

Nautical Nonsense Bracelet

Yellow top: Marshalls

Striped top: Aeropostale 

Skirt: So, Kohl's

Shoes: Charles Albert, Alloy

Bag: Xhilaration, Target

Belt: Apt. 9., Kohl's

Ocean Love Potion Necklace 

Magical Mermaid Hairpins 

Top: JCPenney

Skirt: Amazon

Shoes: B.A.I.T., Zulily

Bag: Sugar Thrillz, Dolls Kill

Belt: Candie's, Kohl's

Sunglasses: Mudd, Kohl's

First, a note about the "stuff."  The store-bought as opposed to handmade stuff, that is.  A chunk of it comes from the Internet, most notably my good pal Pinterest.  This Dolls Kill seashell bag and these Zulily BAIT wedges started life on my Bright Bags and Show-Stopping Shoes boards but ended up in my closet.  And I first spied these Amazon skater skirts on The Big Hair Diaries blog, where big hair aficionado Samantha regularly rocks them in a rainbow of colors.  That's what I love about the web: shopaholics helping shopaholics, one purchase at a time. :)   

Now that that's out of the way, on to the mermaids.  Because they're having a moment.  Pinterest (I told you she was a pal) is swimming with bags, tees, mugs, jewelry, you name it, splashed with images of these salty sirens.  Even the beach shop down the street from me boasts a "mermaid room" where you can have your picture taken as one such maritime maven.  I think it's for kids, but then those tails looked mighty long.  

Of course, I've always been hip to mermaids' magic.  Even as a second grader I wanted to be one in our class anti-pollution movie (yes, you read that right; no plays for us in high tech, 1980s South Jersey) even though my teacher had me slated to portray the "philosophical fish," a peacock feather-wielding do-gooder who warned humans of the dangers of discarding uncut plastic soda can rings.  This was right around the time The Little Mermaid came out, and as such, the height of my Ariel obsession.  Needless to say, it was farewell feather, hello fins!  Wearing that orange sequinned, slightly smelly rented mermaid costume made me feel far more glamorous than the humdrum hat and cape of that know-it-all fish ever could.

One of the things mermaids are known for (besides promoting recycling) is their enchanted tresses.  Ariel famously ran a fork (er, dinglehopper) through her fiery, animated locks, and any woman with a long, flowing mane is said to have mermaid hair.  So, when I set out to embellish my very first set of hairpins, I thought, why not go with seashells?  Pastel and pearlized, they make just the right contrast to the dramatic black pins.  Although I love the way they turned out, I still wanted to make something brighter, bolder, and, yes, bubbling over with big, bad beachiness.  And so I spawned this matching Ocean Love Potion Necklace.  Because if there's something else that mermaids are known for (besides luring sailors to their death), then it's sporting seashells on their chests.  

Or, at least sometimes.  For this wasn't always the case for the Stowaway With Me mermaid mascot:

This sign, oddly, is not in Brigantine, or anywhere else at the Jersey shore, but on a not-quite stretch of highway enroute to Philadelphia.  It's been there as long as I can remember, but it wasn't until ten or so years ago that the management of Stowaway Storage saw fit to cover mistress mermaid with a pink seashell bra.  (To be fair, pre-bra, her hair strategically covered her most scandalous bits.)  The why remains a mystery.  Who knows; maybe Stowaway was getting too many late night phone calls from sailors looking for a good time.  Elaine (because let's call her that, for reasons that may or may not be clear at the end of this paragraph) does have a big ass phone number plastered right next to her head. Also, if these Nautical Nonsense Necklace and Bracelet photographs are any indicator, then she has a shore thing for sponges, cartoon and otherwise.  

Sounds kind of fishy to me.