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Words cannot really explain how much I don’t think about my eyebrows. While other gals are plucking, mine have always been blonde and all over my face. One time in high school I think I attempted to correct this via some really bad dye and ended up with a face like an old Russian man and have since left them alone. BUT. Friend Jess just started waxing professionally, and yesterday she treated me to a brow treatment. They’re hiding beneath my bangs, but they’ve somehow managed to make me feel much more together, like I’m wearing pantyhose, like a deodorant commercial.

WHEN THE WORLD

FALLS IN LOVE

You guys. The sun has come out!  And  I just saw a model trying to hail a cab while standing in the middle of the sidewalk where cabs could not even see her by half heartedly raising a wrist for two seconds. Then she stood there and pouted. Optimism: restored.

I’ve been in a bit of a funk lately. I think it stems from being in total life and job limbo, but I’ve never been one to not be able to pull myself out a funk, which I can’t seem to do, so this one is particularly troubling. Said funk definitely peaked yesterday when I spilled coffee on my favorite shirt and now I just can’t get it out. Tragic. Said funk is also accentuated by the fact that I’m also writing a play about depression. In the meantime, this shakeweight gif really, really helps.

Today, we began the mad hunt for Carrie’s wedding dress. I wouldn’t DARE spoil the dress for the groom so won’t show pictures of finalists, but lets just say Carrie looks amazing in everything, I almost cried, and it’s possible that one day I might just arbitrarily buy myself a white gown with silk tafetta and a half A line and semi circle skirt because there are about 1100 different kinds of weddings dresses, and there are Terms for them. It should also be said that sashes, tiaras and veils were involved.

Loretta Lynn just announced that a musical production of Coal Miner’s Daughter is going to the B’way, starring Zooey Deschanel. I am totally going to throw my hat into the ring to write the book, which is a total long shot, especially because Diablo Cody is probably already writing it or some other famous writer girlperson.

But still, Loretta, I know you’re reading this, can I just say: Woman, if you wanna keep that arm, you better get it off my husband! / Who’re you tellin what? / I don’t know who you are, but I know what you are. Can I also just say that I could write the CRAP out of your devotion to Dolittle,  and when Patsy dies in the plane crash they will literally just start throwing Tonys onto the stage. I don’t really know what Tonys look like or how laypeople can access them, but this will happen. Lastly, if you’ve already hired Diablo, I will fight her.

This is the first year I’ve paid attention to the new TV shows in the mix, and am subsequently sad to see certain shows not picked up / not picked up for a second season. First and foremost, MTV is not doing a second Pants season, which in my opinion, is really lamentable. My ENTIRELY unbiased opinion is that the product was stellar. But I also acknowledge that there are about 700 things that go into a company deciding whether or not to do a show that I can’t even begin to understand. HUMPH.

As for the network pilots: I really got attached to a few of them, talking about them in meetings, making friends with the idea of them and am sad to see them just – go away. In particular I really loved this CW pilot called ‘Shelter’ that CW was developing with Bad Robot, about a group of employees working at a fancy inn in Maine. It reminded me so much of my corporate housing days. Also to be mentioned is the Selection, another CW show, which was this insane mash-up of like the Bachelor meets Hunger Games. Roll your eyes if you will. Go ahead, do it. But, I celebrate Nashville and Revolution and the Mindy Kaling Show and the Carrie Diaries and How to Live with your Parents, and others. Onward! But for real, do I now have to get really excited and then really sad, each year? Is this now my life? WHAT IS MY LIFE.

Happy Mother’s Day to this young lady who, as pictured here, last minute flew up to NYC to help me pack up and move my entire life last November when I had two seconds to move to LA. I know that she would literally do anything for me, besides a few choice actions like get a back tattoo. But like, if I told her it was really important, she just might.

It’s usually the morning after a night I stay out too late and drink too much and have too much pizza at 2 am that I wake up with this REALLY sudden and violent urge to google and research ‘wellness trips’ and make plans to go.

Seriously, I’m going. I’m going to go.

Last night Augie set out to give and receive 1000 high fives from friends and strangers, and by gosh he did it. Me, I set out to birthday him with a giant ice cream snickers bar. I too achieved my goal.