A year-ish ago, I tried to get The Husband to watch The Walking Dead with me on Netflix. He refused. There was always some lame excuse (“Some of us work weird hours, HEATHER.” “Some people are tired after work, HEATHER.” “I can’t pay attention to this AND play a video game at the same time, HEATHER!”) Eventually, I let it go and decided that when I had time (Because, after all, my life is just full of free time hoping to be filled with three seasons of a show. Just kidding. That’s a lie.), I’d just watch it on my own. HE DIDN’T WANT TO WATCH IT, he said.
Approximately six months after that, my sister was over for dinner, and the Husband so casually began to discuss The Walking Dead with her. Whoa whoa whoa. Say WHAT?! How did he know ANYTHING about a show he WOULDN’T MAKE TIME TO WATCH?! Well, turns out that in between his weirdish work hours, he was able to pump out a season and a half of the show.
Well, I’m not one to hold grudges (That’s another joke, guys. I love me a good grudge. Or a bad one. Doesn’t matter. I won’t let anything go.) but I was pretty pissed he did this. So much so that I resolved never to watch the show myself. Sure, he apologized, but that wasn’t good enough. He betrayed me. So now, in turn, I would have to take that betrayal out on Rick and his gang of misfits.
I kept that grudge going (and reminding The Husband of said grudge often) for another six months or so. Longer, probably. It felt like a very long time period where I was denied the opportunity to jump into a hot pop culture news item because MY HUSBAND WATCHED SEASON ONE AND SOME OF SEASON TWO WITHOUT ME.
Fast forward to my second month of pregnancy. I was so sick, guys. So, so sick. One day, I could barely get out of bed without having to run to the bathroom. I decided there was no way any work was going to get done. Or that I’d even be able to drive to work. So I called in. Jason was adamant that I spent the day resting, but we were both pretty confident that I wouldn’t.
“Why don’t you just let it go and try to watch The Walking Dead? You have all day. You can catch up!” he offered.
“NEVER!” was pretty much my reply.
I watched him pull out of the driveway and promptly turned on Netflix and queued up Episode 1. Followed 42 minutes later by episode 2. Followed by ALL THE EPISODES. At one point that day – I think I was 5 or 6 deep at this point – Jason came home to check on me. (Fine. He wins points for being a sweetheart thus far in my pregnancy.) I paused it only long enough to let him know that he’s lucky the show is so good and that I was willing to put my grudge aside so that I could get to the point in the series where he left off, so that we could watch together.
I think his plan all along was to get me pregnant so that I’d get sick so that I’d have to stay home so that I’d HAVE to put on Netflix because daytime tv is horrible so that I’d HAVE to start watching The Walking Dead so that I’d HAVE to realize that it’s an awesome show so that I’d have to let go of my grudge so we could watch the rest of season 2 and then season 3 together.
I finished three seasons in three weeks. It’s been about a month since we finished, and I feel empty inside. We’ve tried to fill our nightly void with Season 7 of Psych (If you don’t watch it, you should. It’s hilarious. The banter and references remind me of Gilmore Girls. The first episode is not great. Power through and get to episode 2. And then watch ALL THE EPISODES. So good.) and season 7 of Dexter (It’s normal to have a crush on a serial killer, right?) But guys, it’s not the same.
I miss Rick. And Daryl. And the constant zombie survival plan that Jason and I update while watching it.
(What I don’t miss is Carl. Ugh. Carl!)
How do people wait a whole damn week for a new episode?! Guess I’ll find out in October.
Youwouldn’tbeabletofitaflatscreentv. Andthetvwouldbeaboutthisbig. Andyou’dhavetoholdthewire. Andinthepositionyou’dholdthewire,youwouldn’tbeabletoseethetv.
My sister and I can’t be the only ones mildly obsessed with this AT&T “Bigger is Better” commercial, right? We have such a love-hate thing going on with it. That kid drives us insane, but we love him. We never want to see this commercial again, but I want it to be on during every commercial break. It’s super annoying to hear the kids say “If it’s big enough, you can have a disco. Oh yeeeeah!” yet Sara and I say it approximately 100 times a day.
Please tell me you feel the same.
This commercial is a pain in the buns.
An Open Letter to you (Justin Timberlake):
I hope this gets to you the right way. It’s the only way I know how to do it. You know, other than stalking or excessive amounts of tweets. And I’d rather speak directly to you.
*Makes a serious face*
So, here goes:
This year was gearing up to be an exciting one for me. I heard you were releasing a new album.
As a now 27 year-old woman, I spent most of my teen years cutting pictures of you out of Bop magazine and taping them to my wall. My dad yelled and told me to use that sticky, blue, poster goo stuff, but I insisted you were worth ruining the walls with tape.
Through the years, I have kept tabs on you (I must reiterate that I am not a stalker or a danger to your life. Promise.) My iTunes is full of delicious JT gems. And my husband’s man-crush on you allows me to listen to and belt out all your old jams on a frequent basis. (On a side-but-relevant note: We have deemed “Cry Me a River” to be the best “f$#& you” song of all time. The video is such a burn. The Husband and I have had several conversations, debating whether or not adult-Justin feels a little guilty about it. Having just bought a house, our entertainment budget is fairly low and we can analyze your psyche for free soooo)
I read how excited you were about your new material. That it was full of inspiration of things you grew up listening to. Your pride in the album was palpable. I. Was. Pumped.
And then – then, my dear, handsome JTimbs – then, you released “Suit & Tie”.
10 years of relationships and career advancements and births and deaths and, well, life? And what you give us is “Suit & Tie”?
“I can’t wait til I get you on the floor, good-lookin’. Going out so hot, just like an oven. And I’ll burn myself but just had to touch it. It’s so fly and it’s all mine.”
“Go on and show ‘em who you call daddy.”
Maybe the responsibility for my disappointment falls squarely on my shoulders. Maybe I gave you too much credit, thought too much of you. Maybe it’s my fault for wishing that, as your fans grew older, you grew with them. I expected you to deliver a delicious, soul-searching inspired, makes me weak-in-the-knees new song.
But you really just told me something your fans already know. You look damn good all suited up.
That’s all I’m giving you for now.
I hope the rest of your album moves past the obvious. Finding out is going to be fun.
Xoxo – Heather
The Oscars may be the most important, but the Golden Globes may be my favorite awards show. As Amy Poehler put it, it’s one of the only times that the beautiful faces of movies rub elbows with the rat faced people of television (And, if you’ve ever laid eyes on, say Julie Bowen or Rachel Bilson, you know just how hideous people of television can be.)
Both the pretty and rat faces alike walked the red carpet. Um, holy hotness, Kristin Wiig, right? As an aside – I thought she and Will Ferrell killed it when presenting Best Actress in a Comedy or Musical. The cutesy presenter skits usually come off as awkward (I’m talking about you, Jonah Hill and Megan Fox.), but Wiig and Ferrell nailed it. In case you missed it, they pretended that they saw every movie, by giving a synopsis based solely on the movie’s title.
But back to the red carpet. Because obviously, I know all there is to know about fashion. I thought Sally Field looked both age appropriate and sassy in her navy Alberta Ferretti.
I know there’s not much she can do, but I’m over Anne Hathaway’s pixie cut. Lucy Liu’s blue, flower-patterned Carolina Herrera was incredibly painful to look at.
I thought Eva Longoria’s get up was confusing. Are you flashing leg or cleavage? If it’s cleavage, why do you have such a high neckline? Are you a 1800s Victorian gone bad? I don’t understand.
I’ve read bad things about Kristen Bell’s dress, but I thought she looked super cute, with her little pregnant belly.
Jennifer Garner was especially stunning, in her red Vivienne Westwood. Unlike most of the women last night, Jennifer actually ::gasp:: put her hair up!How come most women didn’t feel the need to do this? I don’t understand. You’re wearing dresses more expensive than my house. Throw a couple bobby pins in your damn hair!
This year, I was particularly looking forward to the Globes, because Tina Fey and Amy Poehler were hosting. Tina and Amy are everything I hope to be when I grow up – hilarious, smart, successful. I want to be part of their best friend club.
And can we just take a moment to talk about Jodi Foster? Her decision to pop some uppers right before accepting the Cecil B. DeMille Lifetime Achievement Award was questionable, at best. What the heck was going on with her? Her speech was nearly incoherent. In one breath, she is saying that she doesn’t need to officially come out of the closet to know who she is, but in the next, did she come out? Is she retiring from acting or does she loves to act? Why is she such good friends with Mel Gibson that it warranted her thanking him? Does Mel Gibson know they are good friends? Because he looked confused. Is her mom dead? Dying? Why were her sons there? For someone who fiercely guards her privacy, she was pretty much an open book during those 6 minutes last night. Like, a choose-your-own-adventure book. Where none of the choices make sense because actually you’re not reading a book at all. Because you’re high on uppers.
One more thing – I think I have a girl crush on Jennifer Lawrence. As she accepted her award for Best Actress, she quipped, “I beat Meryl. That’s what it says,” to the gasps of the pretentious audience below. How DARE she disrespect the great Ms. Streep. Actually, guys, she was quoting Bette Midler in First Wives Club. She also went on to thank her brothers … for being mean to her … but eventually, you know, being really supportive and loving. I thought her speech was charming. And is she dating Bradley Cooper? Because he “makes her better, every day”. Someone confirm this for me. I could get down with some JLaw-BCoops lovin’.
While I appreciate the pictures that everyone posts, and the creative ideas that they come up with, I’m going to stand firm on my belief that the Elf on the Shelf is creepy. First of all, growing up, I imagined a North Pole full of very short people or, well, midgets. Think Benard from The Santa Clause or all the magical, little guys in the Jaclyn Smith classic, The Night They Saved Christmas. I don’t like the idea that Santa’s elves are these creepy, small, cousins-of-Chuckie like dolls. I especially don’t like that they sneak around your house, watching your every move. What happened to the good-old-days, when Santa just watched you from his magic, Wicked-Witch-of-the-West-esque ball? Because that was a real thing. Right?
What is up with the morals they were pushing in the Claymation holiday movies of the late ‘60s? Or, lack thereof, I should say. Rudolph is 14 seconds old and Donner is already ashamed of him. C’mon now. Give him time to grow, and shame your family by flashing his goods at spring break or being caught with marijuana, like most normal kids. You’re going to give him flack because his nose glows? Guess what, Mr. and Mrs. Donner – that nose didn’t just come out of nowhere. You guys made him. Which one of you messed up?
Also, how come it’s cool for Coach Comet to encourage the other reindeer to laugh at Rudolph? If that happened today, he wouldn’t have time for games because he’d be prancing through lawsuit papers, that’s what. Santa also isn’t very welcoming, only accepting Rudolph’s “individuality” when it’s convenient for him at the end. Santa, I love you and I’m sure you have a lot on your mind. That is why I will forgive you for not IMMEDIATELY thinking “Hmm. It sort of makes sense to have a bright light guiding this sleigh, now doesn’t it?”
What are they teaching children up north? (Is Hermie a child? I’m unclear on the schematics of elf biology. I DO know that he isn’t scary elf-on-the-shelf size. Which is good.) Rudy and Hermie bump into a gypsy-esque gold-digger (who has a questionable beard) and within MINUTES, they’re both on his sleigh, riding off into the sunset (or, a creepy basement). Stranger. Danger!
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – A Very Brady Christmas is one of the best Christmas movies of all time and I will fight you on this, so don’t even try.
We’re getting our tree this weekend, which is very exciting for me. Since The Husband and I pretty much jet-setted around the world this year, we have several new ornaments that I’m itching to put on the tree. I bet you wished that you had a recycled-tin-dolphin-wearing-a-Santa-hat-made-by-a-local-in-Roatan, Honduras but you don’t. Probably. If you do, we should start a very exclusive club. With t-shirts.
Well, folks, we are still very early in the season, so I’m sure I will be back with a couple more holiday posts, so don’t you fret my pet (whatup Urkel?!)
Growing up, The Wizard of Oz was a favorite in our family. My sister and I would watch it every day. Every. Day. We’d act. We’d sing. We were Donny and Marie, but without all the weird, incestual tension. Eventually, I had to give up my daily performance of Dorothy, as the law said it was necessary for me to begin my academic career. However, my sister was a great understudy, and quickly made the role her own. She took her performance of Ms. Gale to a new level – braiding her hair every day, costume changes and the purchase of a Toto-esque stuffed dog, whom she carried around in a basket.
So, you can understand how, whenever Oz is on tv, Sara and I must watch.
It was on last night and, I have to say, it didn’t stir those familiar pangs of nostalgia. Instead, it created several questions, most of which neither Sara or I had an answer for.
First of all – the miserable Miss Gulch (Aunt Em may be too much of a Christian woman to say it, but I’m not. Homegirl is a bitch! I don’t know how she can even ride her bike, with that stick so far up her butt!) takes Toto. Toto returns. Then, 16 year old Dorothy’s natural reaction is to runaway from home? Runaway where, Dorothy?! You live on a damn farm in Kansas. Where are you going? And what did you put in that briefcase that you’re pawning off as a suitcase? You only have one good dress, and you’re wearing it. You didn’t even pack Toto any food.
Then, you come across what is essentially a large van, owned by someone who calls himself Professor Marvel. You then. Enter. The. Van. Again, I know that you live in a small town. But what about this appears safe to you? Obviously, Aunt Em is spending too much time writing about Elmira Gulch in her diary and NOT enough time teaching you about stranger danger.
Dorothy spins around in that house for who knows how long, and she’s not even a LITTLE dizzy when she stands? Toto is fine, too?
Glinda is a selfish bitch. She uses Dorothy to do her bidding. She knows all along how to get the poor girl home. Don’t even play, Glinda.
The people of Oz are sure quick to celebrate a murder. And, Mr. Coroner, can you please tell me how you thoroughly examined a body that is squished under a house? The Husband said that he watches CSI and sometimes they use ultrasounds, but I am skeptical that is what happened in Munchkin Land.
The Scarecrow doesn’t have a brain. Yet, not only is he NOT comatose, but he’s able to sing and dance amuck? “I’ll show you how to get some apples,” he whispers to Dorothy as he provokes and teases the trees until they throw apples at the duo. As The Husband said – “Damn. For someone who doesn’t have a brain, that’s some deductive reasoning skills he has.”
I still like the part during Tin Man’s song where the girl’s voice says “Where for art thou, Romeo?” He hears a beat. How sweet.
Text from Sara last night when we first meet Tin Man: “Everyone knows Tin Man is the sexiest. I’d oil HIS joints aaalll day loooong. Wink face.”
Why does nobody pay attention to where Toto is? When the trio hits the forest, Tinman nonchalantly mentions all the veracious animals lurking in the shadows. First of all, Scarecrow, why are you scared of lions, tigers or bears? He didn’t say “horses”. Pretty sure you’re safe. Secondly, Dorothy – don’t you think you should gather up, oh, I don’t know, your tiny, delicious-to-carnivorous-animals dog? Where is Toto, Dorothy? YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW! He’s sitting down in the middle of the damn yellow brick road, while you’re hiding behind a tree (awesome hiding spot, b.t.dub. NOBODY could find you there!)
They (the establishment. The man.) want you to think Dorothy is this innocent farm girl, but the second she gets a taste of the good life (at the beauty shop) she asks “Can you even dye my eyes to match my gown?!” Wow, Dorothy. Did your deep conditioning treatment wash away all of your morals and self-esteem, too? Who are you trying to impress? Hot damn!
Also, let’s take a moment to contemplate a day in the life of the people of Oz, which is described to us in the lyrics they sing. “Get up at 12 and start to work at 1. Take an hour for lunch, and then at 2 we’re done. Jolly good fun!” Heck yeah, that’s fun. I want to work there. Just laughing the day away in the merry, old land of Oz. All of the ladies at the Wash & Brush-Up Co are very pretty and well dressed, so they’re getting paid somehow. (Which may give an alternate meaning to what they sing to the fellas – “A pat, pat here and a pat, pat there … a rub, rub here and a rub, rub there…”)
Why don’t you just surrender Dorothy? She’s nothing to you. Why risk upsetting your lavish lifestyle by inflicting the wrath of The Wicked Witch?
I like how Scarecrow earns an honorary degree, just like celebrities who did nothing to work for it. And anyone who’s anyone knows (from watching tv shows on Wizard of Oz trivia. Not from schooling.) that you did NOT recite the Pythagorean Theorem correctly. (“Um, I know Mel Gibson accurately, and he didn’t say that. That Polonius guy did.” Sorry. Wrong movie.)
How come when Dorothy arrives in Oz, it is obvious that she notices all the color, but when she wakes up in Kansas, she happily accepts her life of sepia?
Dorothy would love Instagram.
Guys! Tons of entertainment news today. I’ll start with the story on Yahoo, where Mark-Paul Gosselaar confesses that Saved by the Bell just “wasn’t a great show”. He goes on to say that the “writing is kind of hokey … it’s very much a piece of that time.”
Um, duh, Mark-Paul. Do you think 13 year old girls were watching it to discuss character interactions and storyline depth? (Although, Kelly Kapowski’s family’s socio-economical status and her ability to rise above being one of several children being raised on unemployment checks, becoming the head cheerleader, the captain of the volleyball team AND the standout star of the short lived all-girl band Hot Sundae would be great fodder for a discussion on the high school caste system.) No, sweetheart. They were watching it to see your smirk and dimples and to check out Albert Clifford in his wrestling uniform. They may have watched to see what hot trends fashionista Lisa was wearing or to see what sort of shenanigans Screech would get himself into this time. But I’ll tell you
one two things. Nobody was watching because of the fantastic writing. Also, nobody was watching because of Jessie Spano.
In other news, Liam Hemsworth decided to put a ring on 19 year old Miley Cyrus. They have been together for three years. And she hasn’t appeared to get herself in much trouble as of lately. Too young for marriage? Perhaps. But who am I to judge such a beautiful (Like, literally. They’re both so pretty!) union?
After battling breast cancer, Sheryl Crow has revealed that in November she was diagnosed with a benign brain tumor. Meaning, that it is causing her no harm and doesn’t really mean anything. Not sure why everyone is fussing over this. Maybe it’s because I dislike Sheryl Crow, for no particular reason. Not that I wish tumors upon her, but let’s move on with our news day, shall we?
Lindsay Lohan had a nip-slip on the set of Liz & Dick, the biopic about Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. It’s not the first time we’ve seen her parts-that-should-be-covered-by-underwear, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.
I’ve decided to share with you a list of my favorite movie quotes. Because this is my blog and you can do whatever you want on your own blog.
I loooove me some movie quotes. Why? Because I would love to be part of the most awesome thing to occur during a movie – an outfit-changing music montage. That will (probably) never happen. So the next best thing is just quoting awesome things that are said in movies.
The movie: Love and Sex – 2000
The scene: Kate is in the theater, trying to get to know her date. She asked him if it freaked him out that everyone in the theater would die someday. He got irritated with her talking and told her to be quiet. She got frustrated, stood up and began shouting to other people in a movie theater
The quote: “Think about it! Someday, you’re all going to die. Think about that! You’re all going to die and nobody will ever remember you, because they’ll all be dead too!”
Why I love it: This is my favorite movie. If you haven’t seen this indie starring Famke Janssen and Jon Favreau, I highly suggest you do because it’s hilarious. Out of every movie character I’ve ever spent time getting to know, I feel like I most closely relate to Janssen’s slightly-neurotic Kate. Her quick wit and constant worrying is a reflection upon my life (That’s how I see it, anyways.) Take this quote, and her delivery. Just think about it. Everyone in a movie theater, just staring forward into the darkness. Someday, everyone in that theater is going to be dead. Just think about that.
Honorable mention: (While trying to get dressed for a function where she will see her ex-boyfriend for the first time since breaking up) “That dress makes me look like a drug-addicted hooker. I want to look great – like a drug-addicted model!”
The movie: Titanic – 1998
The scene: Jack found Rose standing on the rail of the ship and is telling her she doesn’t want to jump
The quote: “Don’t presume to tell me what I will and will not do. You don’t know me!” – Rose
Why I love it: Because even though Rose is currently contemplating suicide, she STILL doesn’t want a damn man bossing her around. Also, because the writing in this film is sort of horrific. Who would say that in real life? I mean, besides me, ‘cause I do all the time.
When I say it: Whenever someone tries to tell me what to do OR whenever I feel like speaking in a horrible British accent.
Honorable mention: “I want you to draw me like one of your French girls. Wearing this. Wearing ONLY this.” Hahahah Oh man with this dialogue.
The movie: Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer – 1964
The scene: Clarice just called Rudolph “cute”
The quote: “She said I’m cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute!” – Rudolph
Why I love it: How precious. Rudolph literally cannot contain his excitement at the notion that hot to trot Clarice may have a thing for him.
When I say it: Whenever anyone tells me I look nice. Which has prevented those close to me from saying I look nice very often.
Honorable Mention: “A DEN-TIST?” Um, yuh. It’s not like he said Professional Unicorn Rider. And even if he DID, you live at the North Pole. With SANTA. So why is it so hard to believe that Hermey would like to be a .. a dentist?!
The movie: Don’t Tell Mom the Babysitter’s Dead – 1991
The scene: Sue Ellen is interrupting Carolyn’s phone call, asking where she should go to submit a job application
The quote: “You are supposed to go down to per-so-nnel. That. Is on. The First. Floor. There’s a great-big-sign that says … per-so-nnel. Do. You. Under-stand?” – Carolyn, the receptionist
Why I love it: Oh, Carolyn. You’re such a biotch. Did Sue-Ellen take the job you were supposed to be promoted to by using a resume taken right out of a resume book? Ok. Yeah. Sure. But does that give you and your mousey-brown hair the right to go snooping through her files and making copies of her driver’s license? It doesn’t.
When I say it: Whenever someone asks a question which I find irritating. Or, often when I’m in the presence of my sister, because we can’t have a conversation without quoting this movie.
Honorable Mention: I’d like to give the following Don’t Tell Mom the Babysitter’s Dead quotes honorable mention: “I bought a pair of boots and a magazine! You bought a home entertainment system?!” “The dishes are done, man!” “I’m right on top of that, Rose!” “PMS city, man!” “Mrs. Stuarack? She’s at the yarn store. She’s crocheting this massive doily for the couch.” and, of course – “Cynthia, you’re my moon goddess.” Actually, I’m fairly certain if there was a competition I could enter, where the person who can quote the entire script of DTMTBD most accurately wins a giant box of Capt’n Crunch and some left-overs from the Clown Dog, well, I’d rock that competition so hard.)
(Aaaaaand I just found my new favorite youtube video. Sorry, Marcel the Shell)
There are approximately 14,763 other quotes that I say rather routinely, but would like to give you the chance to claim them as your own. What’s your favorite movie quote?
I love Fox’s New Girl. I’ll admit that I didn’t jump onboard the bandwagon the way that I had hoped. I had high expectations for this show and I found the first couple of episodes forced. Damon Wayans Jr had filmed the pilots for both New Girl and Happy Endings, obviously not anticipating both of them succeeding. He ended up leaving New Girl after the pilot episode, and the transition was awkward.
But The Husband and I stuck with it and it quickly turned into one of our favorites. I’ve been a fan of Zooey Deschanel for so long that when I first heard of her, Manic Pixie Dream Girl wasn’t even a thing yet. Maybe that’s why I find her iPhone commercial incredibly annoying.
I’m sure you’ve seen the ad, but for the six of you who haven’t, it goes something like this. It’s raining outside and we see Zooey, in her ‘jammies, talking to her buddy Siri. “Siri, is that rain?” she asks her phone. “Yes, it appears to be raining,” Siri answers somewhat sarcastically, clearly fed up with Zooey’s sprite self. Um, yuh, Zo, you’re pretty much LITERALLY looking out the window soooo get to that answer yourself.
We then see Zooey doing things you’d expect “Zooey” to do when left to her own accord. You know, eccentric, incredibly cute things. Ordering in soup! Setting a reminder to clean her house (not til tomorrow!) and, of course, dancing to some old time rock and roll! Quirky! I find all of those things mildly irritating but they are not the cause of this rant.
Siri finds Zooey a restaurant that delivers tomato soup (because, you know, opening a can is hard for a girl!) “Good. Because I don’t want to put on real shoes,” Zooey says WHILE WEARING BRIGHT RED LIPSTICK AND ROCKING A SMOKEY EYE WITH FALSE EYELASHES.
Again – WHILE WEARING BRIGHT RED LIPSTICK AND ROCKING A SMOKEY EYE WITH FALSE EYELASHES.
Zooey, I see that you’ve just been cast in the Broadway production of Coal Miner’s Daughter. I hope that means you will stop doing parodies of yourself. That whole schtick is starting to grate on the nerves of even your biggest fans.
Its official – Jessica Simpson had her baby. She gave birth to a healthy girl named Maxwell Drew Johnson (Maxwell is fiance Eric’s middle name and his grandmother’s maiden name). We can all release a collective sigh of relief. I’m not so sure why I’ve been so vested in this pregnancy, but I really have. When I was a teenager, I’d spend bus rides home from school listening to JSimps’ “Sweet Kisses” album on my Discman. Oh man. What a great album. (If you’re wondering if I stopped typing this in order to load Spotify and search the 1999 record so I could listen to it rightnow, you can stop wondering because yes, I did. “From the moment that I saw your face and felt the fire in your sweet embrace, that’s when I knew that I’m gonna loooooove yoooou foreeeever…”)
I absolutely admit to watching, and loving, Newlyweds on MTV (one of the only “reality shows” I’ve ever watched). After Nick and Jessica broke up and rumors of her cheating with Adam Levine started to swirl around my MySpace and on various AIM away notices, I understandably became upset. But I always kept tabs on her. I paid attention when she was John Mayer’s rebound girl after he broke up with Jennifer Love Hewitt. (I’m not sure if this was ever confirmed, but I’m pretty sure his song “Comfortable” is comparing his relationship with Love to his relationship with Jess. “I sleep with this new girl I’m still getting used to … She says that the Bible is all that she reads and prefers that I don’t use profanity … She thinks I can’t see the smile she’s faking. She poses for pictures that aren’t being taken.” Ouch. John Mayer is such a jerk. But that’s a whole different blog post.)
I watched whatever it was that she had going on with Tony Romo, with much disinterest. But I think I jumped back on her bandwagon when the infamous “Mommy Jeans” photo was taken. The paparazzi have been miserable to her – always picking on her appearance and saying she was heavy. And even when she was pregnant, she was still being called fat! (Ok, did homegirl put on some weight? Yes. Maybe more weight than other celebrity mamas that we have seen? Definitely. But for the last fifteen years, her appearance has been scrutinized. She was pregnant and now had a reason to eat cheesecake and bags of chips, seemingly without disapproval from the public. I would have been all over that, too!)
Maybe we feel like she should be giving birth to a toddler because we’ve witnessed her entire pregnancy. I mean, Beyonce announces she’s pregnant and then boom! She has a stomach. Boom! She has a baby. Boom! She’s skinny again! (I’m still calling surrogate on that one.) Jessica (seemingly) had a pregnancy that many non-famous moms could relate to.
I think that throughout all of the late-night show monologues and 140 characters-a-tweet bashing her on Twitter, she handled herself
gracefully with humor and lightheartedness. (She told Jimmy Kimmel “I feel like I have a bowling ball sitting on my hoohah. Apparently I have a lot of amniotic fluid, so whenever my water breaks, it will be like a fire hydrant!”)
So congrats to Jessica and fiancé Eric Johnson. I look forward to stalking your wedding pictures.