An Authority on Being

New Worlds to Explore

2011-09-28T13:55:00.001-05:00

For those of you who follow this blog, I wanted to let you know that I have...

...wait for it...

ANOTHER BLOG.

This is from Jekyll and Hyde which I thought was appropriate since having two blogs must mean I have two personalities.

The reason I am doing this is that I decided to devote a writing space to the part of myself that is a little less boisterous, arrogant, and pop-culturally literate. The new blog is far more personal.

Here she is: http://avoidingatrophy.blogspot.com/

I would love followers on my new blog as well, so if you are a fan of An Authority on Being you might want to expand your loyalties to Avoiding Atrophy.

As for An Authority on Being, it will still exist. Don't worry. Some entries will definitely feel more appropriate to run on this blog. Is that weird? We'll see. I might not have any friends after this.

A Confession

2011-04-10T11:34:00.004-05:00

I will probably lose all of my followers when I say this, but what the heck, here it comes: I'm engaged...to be married (have been for about 8 months now). I am so engaged that I even have one of those wedding websites designed to cleverly disguise the fact that we have a registry (with an Xbox on it).

Here it is: Daniel and Christy's Cute as Crap Wedding Website
(hope you get a kick out of the flash intro)

Anyway, arguably the best part of our website is an application where people can request songs to be played at our wedding. I know, I know, you're thinking, "Wow. This is one seriously selfless couple" and you're right.

The only thing that is kind of lame about the song-request feature is that it only e-mails me the songs. They do not actually show up on the website. It's really a shame because I have received some incredible e-mails. From song-requests by minor celebrities to shocking confessions by John Hanson, I am continually overjoyed by the abuse of this function.

That is why I have decided to post them all here so that everyone can get the chance to see what I've been dealing with the past few days. Some of these are legit. Some are...

You have received a request for music from Rebecca Black:
Friday
Friday
Friday
Friday
Friday
You have received a request for music from Clint "The Man" Washington:
Proud Mary/ The TINA Turner. (Clearly)
If I Were a Boy/ THE Beyonce (The BEST)
Titanic Theme (Orchestra only please. No Celine) Thanks.
Baby/ (My Idol, but not Billy...THE J.BIEBS)
I Will Always Love You/ THE Whitney Houston and BOBBY BROWN YEAH!
You have received a request for music from Christy Lammert :
Teenage Dream/ Christy and Dan
Teenage Dream/ Christy and Dan
Teenage Dream/ Christy and Dan
Teenage Dream/ Christy and Dan
Teenage Dream/ Christy and Dan

You have received a request for music from John Hanson:
Because You Love Me / Celine Dion
Born This Way / Lady GaGa
Raise Your Glass / Pink
Wannabe / Spice Girls
Baby / Justin Bieber

You have received a request for music from John Hanson:
Hollaback Girl / Gwen Stefani
Oops!... I Did It Again / Britney Spears
Your Love Is My Drug / Ke$ha
Love Story / Taylor Swift
Whataya Want From Me? / Adam Lambert

You have received a request for music from Kaitie Wagner:
Don't Stop Believing by journey
Sweet Home Alabama by Lenorad Skynard

You have received a request for music from Julia Lopez-Mobilia:
a kiss to build a dream on (sleepless in seattle sountrack, baby!) By Louis Armstrong
You have received a request for music from That 13-year old Girl You Know:
Baby by Justin Bieber
Baby by Justin Bieber
Baby by Justin Bieber
Baby by Justin Bieber
Baby by Justin Bieber
You have received a request for music from An Anonymous Roommate of Daniel:
Fat Bottomed Girls by Queen
Teach Me How to Dougie by Cali Swag District
Yeah (3x) by Chris Brown
Pretty Girl Rock by Keri Hilson
Hey Ya! by OutKast
You have received a request for music from Jo Lammert:
"Don't Stop Me Now" Queen
A rap by Will Smith.
"Bang Bang Bang" Mark Ronson & The Intl
"Kiss From a Rose" Seal
"Party in the USA" Miley Cyrus

You have received a request for music from John Hanson:
What A Girl Wants / Christina Aguilera
Girls Just Want To Have Fun / Cyndi Lauper
Boyfriend / Ashlee Simpson
Girlfriend / Avril Lavigne
Dancing Queen / Abba

You have received a request for music from John Hanson:
Lovefool / The Cardigans
Just A Girl / No Doubt
Kiss Me / Sixpense None the Richer
Forever Your Girl / Paula Abdul
Boys Boys Boys / Lady GaGa

You have received a request for music from John Hanson:
Pretty Girl Rock / Keri Hilson
Whip My Hair / Willow
Just Dance / Lady GaGa (I know she's a repeat, but she's so hot right now!)
Material Girl / Madonna
It Must Have Been Love / Roxette
You have received a request for music from John Hanson:
Born This Way Lady Gaga
Poker Face Lady Gaga
Just Dance Lady Gaga
Paparazzi Lady Gaga
LoveGame Lady Gaga

You have received a request for music from Jessica O'Shoney:
Hanson
Backstreet Boys
NSync
J.Lo
Celine Dione
You have received a request for music from Rebecca Black:
Friday
Friday
Friday
Friday
Friday
You have received a request for music from The Make Up Artist/Wedding Singer/Grooms(wo)man:
Dancing in the Moonlight (King Harvest)
Why Don't We Just Dance (Josh Turner)
The Way You Make Me Feel (Michael Jackson)
Baby (Justin Bieber)
Touch Me ("Spring Awakening" Original Broadway Cast)
You have received a request for music from Patrick:
Cats in the cradle
theme song from gummy bears
helter skelter
the thong song
onward christian soldiers

Keep 'em coming, crazies.

No apologies

2011-04-01T00:06:00.021-05:00

My reflection has always fascinated me. Really. Show me a mirror and I will pose so fiercely before it that Tyra and Christian Siriano will be begging for my mentorship (incidentally, I offer a one-hour fierceness tutorial for those interested).

I justify this habit in this way: It's not just me; It's all y'all fools. As the narrators, main characters, heroes, and often villains of our own stories, it makes sense that our reflections are ultimately interesting. Plus, sometimes we look fine as hell and we just want to remind ourselves. Am I right?

Pictured above: a baby looking fine as hell and unwilling to forget it.

Observing my reflection has been a behavior with few consequences and one which makes me rarely ashamed. There is, however, one notable exception to this rule.

The place where I have met this embarrassment is in one of the holiest of holies in the western world:

Fun Fact: I considered having my wedding at Target at one point in my life.

If you are a reflection-seeker, you may have noticed that at the checkout at most Target stores, there is a giant mirror on the wall. Let me tell you something: You can look at a mirror in your bedroom. You can catch a glimpse in your rear view mirror. You can even sneak a peak in a compact at random points throughout the day. But the ability to admire yourself as you check out at a superstore is a rare treat. Naturally, I indulge in this experience.

This mirror, however, is no ordinary mirror. It has a dark secret. Should you approach it too close, perhaps to remove eye gook, you will find that something is not quite right because, my friends, this mirror is, in fact...

A Two-Way Mirror

I know, right? Lame!

When you look closely (and believe me, I have), you will find that behind this tempting mirror is an office, often with people in it -- people...who are judging you.

Unfortunately, I found this out the hard way. My first time was both an eye gook and teeth-check situation, and when I approached the mirror closely, I found a pair of eyes staring back at me. At first, I was frightened. After that, I was embarrassed. In response to that feeling, I literally did one of those Ashlee Simpson jigs and walked away.

My question is: why does Target need a two-way mirror?

The obvious reason would be for security, but I like to think Target is certainly more complex than that.

In my mind, when I am checking out at a Target, there is an agent behind that mirror saying, "Oh my God. Roger, get over here" and Roger's like "Not now. Can't you see I'm busy?" and then that other guy is like, "No, you don't understand. We found her...", so then Roger drops whatever he's doing and runs to the mirror and says "Good God...there she is" and then they both just stand there for a good while and then that one guy is like "Should we contact the President now?" and Roger is like "No...no, it's too soon" but the other one's all like "But Rog-" and Roger interrupts with "I said it's too soon! She's not ready yet" and then I do my little jig as Roger starts to cry.

Anyway, I would like to say that I learned my lesson once I realized it was a two-way mirror, but let's be honest, the florescent lighting of Target just looks too good on me. However, every time I fall prey to the mirror's trick, I always make sure to do my jig. Because if there is one thing that Ashlee Simpson and the film Leprechaun: Back 2 tha Hood taught me, it's that a jig solves virtually all of your problems.

Previously on CHRISTIANA...

2010-03-23T15:56:00.007-05:00

Don't even bother pointing out the fact that in my last entry I dedicated myself to posting more often. I am incapable of that kind of guilt.

A BUNCH of stuff did transpire though, and it would be cruel not to backtrack a little bit.

(flashback music)...in case you need it.

In February, I participated in All-University Sing here at Baylor University. I often struggle to describe exactly what Sing is. My dad once told me that writers who use the phrase "indescribable" are lazy people without the guts to construct a decent thought, and you know, he could not be more right. Anyway, Sing is basically indescribable. The basic structure of Sing is a musical review based on a theme. For example, if your theme was "puppies" (which is always my suggestion), your group would decorate a backdrop devoted to puppies, wear puppy costumes, dance on all fours, and sing songs such as "You aint Nothin' but a Houndog" and "Welcome to Puppy Town". The act has to be seven minutes long, and it has to BLOW PEOPLE'S MINDS.

Seriously. Sing is ridiculous. I am not sure who thought of it or how. When done right, it is just flat out impressive. However, when done half-assed, it is PURE GENIUS. As an audience member, I would sit through the good acts and think "Holy crap. When did the cast of 'A Chorus Line' start going to Baylor?", but to be honest I was always looking for that act that just crashed and burned. Maybe the theme was nonsensical, or maybe the costumes looked like sumo suits, or maybe someone fell into the orchestra. If just ONE of these elements was in play, I was entertained.

That's just part of the fun. Some groups are bananas-amazing and some groups are hilariously awful (either intentionally or otherwise). I will refrain from using specifics about my opinions for this year's Sing simply because I was in it (however, be as free as you like in the comments section), but I will say that most groups leaned towards the bananas-amazing side.

Sing Alliance, the group I got the chance to be apart of, was one of those. In the words of Lil Mama from "America's Best Dance Crew", "y'all was on POINT!" We actually ranked in the top 3 along with two other intensely amazing acts. Our theme was newspapers, and it was just cute as I'll get out. We had two backdrops and a full costume change (which for those of you who are new to Sing, two backdrops and two costumes is a BIG deal). I actually got to be a part of a trio which sang the song "Want Ads". Below is a video of our act taken from the first night of the show.

As you can see, Sing is just good fun for everyone involved.

For me, however, things got a little hairy whenever I contracted SWINE FLU. Unfortunately, getting swine flu these days is so not as interesting as it was a few months ago. It just sucks.

The progression of my disease went a little something like this:

February 18 (Day 1 of Sing) - I texted Daniel while in my English class because I wanted him to come pick me up. I just felt weird, kind of like I was walking around in a dream, only in this dream there was a really boring group presentation on "Their Eyes Were Watching God". Dan picked me up and I got home and, for some reason, decided to draw a bath, and I sat in that bath for a good 45 minutes. Then I felt fine.

February 19 (Day 2 of Sing) - I felt fit as a fiddle. My family came to visit this day as well and stayed for the night.

February 20 (Day 3 of Sing) - I woke saying "uh oh..." because my throat hurt which made my sister think that I wet the bed. I sang okay, but when I got home, I freaked out on Daniel about GOD KNOWS WHAT and came down with a fever of 102. I decided it was probably time to go the doctor, but I wouldn't be able to until Monday.

February 21 - I woke up making a sound that went something like "hoo-EH! hoo-EH!". I hope it woke the neighbors because they are RUDE.

February 22 - I went to the doctor and was told I had swine flu. I had to wear a mask out of the building which made me feel like a jerk. I then spent the entire day with a fever ranging from 101 - 103. I think this may have been the day my fingernails turned blue. I sat in the bathtub trying to warm myself FOREVER, but nothing was working. I had several weird panic attacks where I believed everyone was out to get me while Daniel tried to explain otherwise. With his help, my fever FINALLY broke for the first time in 3 days.

February 23 - SNOW DAY. But not for me. However, Kaley made a fairly decent snowman representation of what it was like to be quarantined with swine flu.

Anguish.

From that point on, the Tamiflu kicked in and I started to feel much better. My voice didn't fully recover, so that weekend in Sing I just did whatever I could. Save for barfing on the microphone, doing a fever-induced Irish jig, and proposing gay marriage to Ken Starr from my platform, I would say I did alright.

Major props to Daniel Glenn O'Shoney (pictured below).

He was the very definition of gentleman through my piglet ailment. He dealt with all of my crazy spells (pre, during, and post) and never complained once. Every now and then, he treated me like a baby, but mind you, I was the very definition of baby.

There is SO much more to report, but I will let you digest this entry first. Be prepared because when I come back (keep me accountable in this), you will hear the rousing tales of mine and Daniel's trip to Chicago. In the meantime, here is a little teaser of an absolutely typical moment for Dan and I.

You asked for it...

2010-01-26T15:31:00.008-06:00

After an embarrassingly long hiatus (particularly embarrassing since I am probably the only person who noticed that I took one), I have returned to blog once again. Months later, I am older, wiser, and considerably better looking. It would be a crime not to share my wealth of knowledge and experiences with my 8 followers (one of which is my mom).

A lot happened in my life during the time of my absence. Holidays passed. Babies were born. Tacos were eaten. If I could account for every story from this last month, I could be writing this entry for years (which makes little sense considering I would be giving information from a month's time, but I would do it just to spite those who doubt me). However, to save anyone the pain, I will detail my hiatus in pictures.

1. CHRISTMAS. Remember Christmas? You know, babyjesusCHRISTmas?! Well, Chick-fil-a sure did.

Above is a window mural from Waco's own Chick-fil-a back in December. If you look closely, you will see Santa Clause kneeling before the baby Jesus. You may not remember this scene in the nativity story if you were raised in most Christian homes, but this happened roughly between the arrival of the shepherds and the destruction of the dinosaurs. It's a history we don't much like to talk about, but Chick-fil-a is leading us in bravery once again.

2. Daniel came to visit over Christmas break.

Isn't he dreamy? Apparently Daniel is allergic to the entire city of San Antonio, but you would never know with his sunny disposition (see above picture).

3. Last month I legitimately thought these glasses looked good on me and considered buying them.

I think I literally found these in a section called "Senior". I was pretty jazzed about them until Johanna made some kind of Golden Girls reference.

There were better pictures of Estelle Getty wearing her glasses, but this one just spoke to me. Anyway, thank you for being a friend, Johanna.

Apart from all of that, not much has happened. I started my classes (which I will detail in a later entry) and I am participating in something at Baylor called SING (which I will DEFINITELY detail in a later entry for those of you who don't know what SING is. In the meantime, just imagine frat boys and sequins and you've almost got it).

So I guess we're all caught up then. Please forgive me for our time apart. As a symbol of my sincerest apologies, please accept this YouTube video from the great American classic, My Little Pony: The Movie (1986).

But before you take a gander at this cinematic gem, let me know how your last month was. That way, I can determine which of us won the breakup (just a warning, it's probably me).

Somewhere Beyond the Pea

2009-12-02T23:30:00.029-06:00

My family is weird. Your family is weird. All of us have bananas families, but at least my family is brave enough to admit it. After this past Thanksgiving, I'm not sure we can avoid it.

This Thanksgiving a great majority of you probably gathered at your gammy's home to the sweet aroma of yams tainted with the awkwardness of your brother's girlfriend's appearance at this exclusive meal. You probably watched football even though you don't understand the rules and you probably thought the bulldog was going to win the Westminster Dog Show (I sure did anyway).

Well, the Lammerts took a different approach to Thanksgiving this year. We bucked tradition and headed to the coast--Galveston to be exact. We stayed in a condo right next to the ocean, actually. I am not really sure about the steps that led us to this decision. My sister, Johanna, and I were both tired of going to church on Thanksgiving (since it always made us miss the parade) and somehow that equaled going to Galveston and renting a condo...

Either way, we had a whale of a time (see what I did there?) and thankfully, we documented this trip with pictures.

Wednesday (Thanksgiving Eve):

Ah, to be By the Pea. This was the name of our condo, however, I found no such pea nearby. It must have been in the ocean. Regardless, as I saw this sign, I immediately felt at home.

That all changed when I walked into the actual condo. While the place truly had everything we needed, its decor carried with it a strong political message.

These flip flops were everywhere. These are just a few of the hundreds of chanclas in our condo. I spent the better part of this trip pondering their significance. While one might think that they merely symbolized fun and relaxation, I knew better. These flip flops (or "thongs" as my parents still call them) were a message to anyone who threatened the Galvestonian way of life. Flop or be flopped.

That night we had much debate about where we were going to eat. We had it narrowed down to two restaurants but the decision was clear after a Yelp.com review of a place called "Gaido's" which read: It stinks in there like 100 years of old men in leaky diapers have been chain smoking and puking up the disgusting food. Obviously, we just HAD to try it.

Just kidding. We didn't go there.

We went some other place that Johanna picked (and she made sure we didn't forget it). Delicious.

Below is a picture of a Shrimp Poor Boy, a flounder, and someone's MUG of wine.

As always, my dad told some pretty great stories which made me and Johanna's faces look like this:

And then my mom did this:

And we knew it was time to head back to our condo.

Back at the condo, I read the guestbook to see what others had thought of this place. One particularly enthusiastic entry gave me some high expectations for the following morning:

Thursday (The Big Show):

Unfortunately, when I stepped out onto the balcony in the morning I was met with the smell of feet. Oh well. It was THANKSGIVING.

That morning, Johanna busied herself in the kitchen while my parents ran all over Galveston looking for tacos, and I set to work on my great American duty: watching the Thanksgiving Day Parade in my Snuggie.

Pictured below is my plate of Thanksgiving goodness placed on our elegantly understated flip flop placemats:

And in case you were wondering, yes, that is a deep-fried redneck gobbler. We pulled out all the stops for this Thanksgiving.

Enjoying a feast fit for a flip flop-wearing king.

"I can't believe I ate the whole thing"

A good portion of my time after this was spent watching the Westminster Dog Show. Sidenote: The Westminster Dog Show is possibly the only reality show where I simply cannot predict the outcome. I have no idea how these dogs are scored and it is extremely disheartening. I had faith in the bulldog.

Later on, we drove to the beach.

Gross, right?

A possible alien invasion threatened our day...

...but we made it out alive.

That night, Johanna and I went to go see The Fantastic Mr. Fox (amazing) in a town called Texas City. Texas City has a clear dedication to the style, architecture, and technology of the year 1996. It also has a whole slew of rude people working at concession stands. Just saying...

That's me in a time-warp at the local Texas City cinema.

Friday:

We set off to achieve more educational goals the next day, so we went to a boat museum...it had a boat.

Jazzed about the BOAT.

Not so jazzed about boats.

While we were exploring the many secrets of this illusive boat, a demon family with tiny demon children joined us. These kids were so awful and loud and scary that it very nearly ruined our experience. At one point, my mom, Johanna, and I were below deck in some room when these kids ran in, unsupervised, screaming at a decibel that could destroy hearing. Seeing my mother wince in pain, I said to them "Hey guys, that is NOT cool." (kids hate not being cool) to which they responded with devilish belches and cackles. Parents, admonish your children when they act like the devil. Please.

These are the children practicing spitting. I am not being cute. That is actually what they were doing at one point.

After the thrill of the boat came an entirely different kind of adventure.

This picture was taken at "The Strand", Galveston's hippest and happeningest shopping district. The size of this massive trumpet stands as a symbol for The Strand...because IT BLOWS. There is nothing there, people drink on the streets like its Mardi Gras, and every store you go into sells either nasty tourist crap or nasty homegoods crap.

Jo made this. There was no "u" available, but I think the message is still pretty clear.

Even with Satan's minions and the unimpressive Strand, the Lammerts trucked through and managed to have a killer day.

Saturday (So long, city by the pea):

On the morning of our departure, we cleaned every flip-flopped nook and cranny of the condo. It was as if we had never been there.

My father already in the Christmas spirit as he packs up the car.

The Lammerts said one last goodbye to the sea and headed our separate ways (my parents back to San Antonio and myself and Johanna back to Austin).

This trip gave us new things to be thankful for. For example, I will never take closed-toed shoes for granted again. I now thank the good Lord nightly that my parents did not raise me to be a demon child who ruins the experience of a historical boat. But above all, I am thankful for my weird, weird family. We may not have a gammy, but we will always have Galveston.

and don't you forget it.

Tavi

2009-11-22T15:28:00.010-06:00

Thirteen-year-old prodigy, Tavi, is ruining my life.

It's stuff like THIS that makes me wonder what the frak I'm doing in college.

And Don't it Feel Good

2009-11-05T16:39:00.011-06:00

I don't know about that Miley Cyrus. There is definitely something a little fishy there. Her identity crisis is becoming more and more severe. One minute she is in some cooky mix-up as Hannah Montana and the next she is doing a pole-dance in stripper boots on live television. Oh, those crazy hormones.

She's "tah-erd uv livin' a dubble lah-eef."

Either way, she is here for now, and I suppose she is mildly interesting to follow. Her success is one of those classic "rags-to-riches" stories, if by "rags" you mean hillbilly-wealth and "riches" you mean exorbitant-sixteen-year-old-hillbilly-wealth.

Anyway, I shouldn't be too hard on her. She's got every single one of us singing her new hit single "Party in the U.S.A." It is one of those songs that you catch yourself singing absolutely everywhere, from the grocery store to funerals (which is inappropriate unless the deceased was a big Hannah Montana fan).

Regardless, Miley is harmless. I do not envision my future children finding some kind of romance in listening to "Party in the U.S.A." on retro iPods instead of the sound devices implanted in their heads. She just does not have that kind of replay value.

At the same time, crazier things have happened. In the last century, there were plenty of songs that should have died brutal deaths, but instead they lived on inside of a mutated americana that should have just been terminated at first playback. These songs have infiltrated our radio stations, our commercials, our films, our bot mitzvahs...the list goes on. And surely we hate them. I know I do, but somehow they just will not die.

What songs, you ask? Well, for instance:

Celebration - Kool & The Gang

Everything occurring in the above video is everything wrong with this song. It is only mildly enjoyable near the end of a wedding where everyone is drunk. Apart from this highly specific situation, there is nothing good about this song. It repeats something like ninety-three times and is a song that commands the listener to do something that is nearly impossible when listening to this funky jam.

Wild Thing - The Troggs

As is exemplified by the maudlin crowd in this video, no one really likes this song, but somehow we feel like we always need it. Whether we are stuffing a singing Valentine's Day bear or spending a crazy night at a Korean Karaoke bar, this song is unavoidable. However, it is terrible. It brings to mind such a weird visual of the lead singer and his "wild thing."

"Wild thing...I think I love you" (...that's nice) "but I WANNA KNOW FOR SURE" (...getting nervous) "so come on and...hold me tight" (gross) "...I love you."

Walking on Sunshine - Katrina and the Waves

I once called my boyfriend, frustrated because he wasn't answering his phone. I sang this song at its appropriate volume (a blood-curdling scream) while only repeating the lines "I'm walking on sunshine. Whoaaaa" for about sixty or seventy times. The punishment fit the crime.

...and last and certainly least...

All Star - Smash Mouth

If only his parents knew this is what he has been up to in his room.

Now, I am not trying to be dramatic here, but "All Star" may just be the epitome of everything I hate. This song, which became most popular from the movie Shrek, crept into every corner of media imaginable simply because it has the buzz phrase "all-star" in it. The lead singer gives me the absolute heebie-jeebies while he tries to pull off a whiny Blink 182 sound out of a pudgy, middle-aged body. For whatever reason, this song is used to advertise anything from sports equipment to obscure ointments. Terrible, terrible song.

There are many more songs that deserve this death penalty, but it is our apathy which allows them to continue to be in circulation. While we probably all secretly know that a song like "All Star" is less clever than an infant's ramblings, it is a lot easier to play it at someone's retirement party than to say how you actually feel about that person. A good mix of laziness and kitsch keeps these songs living and breathing in our culture. It is our collective fault, and only by our collective hand can we put an end to all of this.

Doubtful.

So maybe, Miley. Maybe "Party in the U.S.A." will be performed as an art piece in the School of Music at some major university. Crazier things have happened.

Humble Beginnings

2009-11-05T00:36:00.000-06:00

The purpose of this blog is to accelerate my stardom so that I can afford a house with a closet big enough to fit all of my Snuggies as well as those belonging to my future husband, the cloned version of Orson Welles (from his "War of the Worlds" days...NOT his Paul Masson declination).

VS
The winner is clear.

When a film based on this blog is inevitably produced, I do not want Meryl Streep or Amy Adams to come anywhere near it. Instead, the actress starring as myself would definitely be Cher in full on Half-Breed garb (not because she bares any resemblance to me whatsoever. If that were the case, I would have to go with Josh Groban...in full on Half-Breed garb).

Half Breed...it's all she ever heard.

Eerily Similar Photos taken without knowledge of the other...freaky.

As for the challenging role of my boyfriend, Daniel, I know he would probably prefer Zach Braff, but after seeing "Slumdog Millionaire", I am pretty sold on Dev Patel.

Uncanny.

The film will gross well over a million dollars (I know, I know), and I will make a lofty portion of that. It will be the highlight of my existence and in my later years, I will probably endorse Paul Masson or some other fine champagne "inspired by that same french excellence".

That inevitability, however, is some time off from now. In the mean time, I am writing this blog with, I suppose, a secondary purpose of shedding some much needed perspective on everything. You're welcome.

But all of this will have to start later as I am too distracted by puppy videos on YouTube to continue any further.