Diary Sessions: Part 1

When I was last visiting my parents in April, I brought all my old diaries back with me and realized…they’re kinda amazing. I was in such torment over everything. Now, I don’t want to invalidate the feelings I had as a kid, because I went to a small school full of awful little children being awful to each other (I think a lot of us can agree on that regardless of where we grew up)…but it’s cute to see how I described this torment. I thought I was such a grown up and was just so dramatic sometimes (not much has changed on that front, probably). I also had the habit of getting myself into ridiculous situations out of sheer boredom.

So. As I was reading my first diary from 5th grade (age 10 was a particularly ridiculous one for me) I came across a few lines that I wanted to share. My comments are, obviously, in italics.

November 4, 2003 — Study Hall We didn’t have study hall. I don’t know who I thought I was tricking other than my older self, but surprise! I have not been tricked….

I wish I could finish a diary sometime but I never have anything to write about other than my problems and I don’t have a vivid memory Spoiler alert: I have three diaries full of “problems” and vivid memories sitting directly in front of me that were written from ages 10-18, plus a few half-filled ones somewhere else.

Sometimes I read peoples diaries who have died already and I wonder, how did they not get writer’s cramp?

At the moment all I want is a friend (single tear). Megan isn’t a friend and never will be because if she even tries I’ll die. Okay, hold on there sister. A little less drama please. She probably wants me to die. I want  her to die. Gosh, diaries are just so private! Not anymore. I am making no sense, even to me. I don’t get it either, you tiny murderous child. 

Cramp! Will write later. I guess I wasn’t like those dead diary-writers who never got “writer’s cramp.”

“Shane is so annoying…sometimes I want to tell him he is an ass and slap him across the face. That would be very rude though!” TO. SAY. THE. LEAST.

Then, later that day, (there are several entries from the 4th of November…I must’ve been channeling my inner dead diary-writer) I wrote: If someone asked me if I don’t think girls’ body parts are fair compared to boys’ body parts I would tell them that girls can get breast cancer, they get a period, because of their period they have to wear a tampon/pad, they get breasts, because of breasts they need bras, blah blah blah. I would be very open about that sort of thing. I really don’t think it is fair…I miss being a little kid and not having to worry about maturity. Oh, kiddo. If you think that’s unfair, you have no idea what you’re in for. Also, though, I love that I already wanted to be super open about the female body. 14 years later and I haven’t changed on that front. #BabyFeminist.

November 5, 2003 — Early in the Morning

As I was saying last night, all you have to worry about when you are really little (You are a child. Please just embrace that and stop feeling so woeful about your old age) is whether or not your friends will share crayons with you. Whoa boy. Times have changed. P.S. The worst thing that can happen is having the same pants as the same person who didn’t share crayons! Ba-dum-chhhhhhhhhhhh.

Then I described some weird incident where a girl named Morgan asked me if I was smoking on the bus and I said I wasn’t and everyone else said I was. What the fuck was wrong with these children?!

Sidney is so sickening (Hello, RuPaul) sometimes. When I was at the drinking fountain she kept bumping me. I almost turned around and said, “Sidney, is something coming to attack you?” (Zing) Seriously, that girl has some kind of problem. See, she sits right in front of me and always wants to use my stuff. I, being the generous person I am, never let her use it. HAHAHAHAHAHA that was actually pretty good.

A few lines later, I made some weird joke about George Bush being the leader of all the girls who were mean to me. I don’t know, y’all. I don’t know. #PoliticallyActive10YearOlds

Dad had surgery on his wrist. He’s gonna show us his cut. What’s so gross about a cut? I don’t know — who are you asking, exactly, and why are you so sure they’re going to argue with you about this cut business?

The next few entries are just me calling everyone I know a “jurk” and a dope, the latter of which I must’ve picked up from my father. After that, it was all about how I was in love with Jesse but he loved Janelle, and then I “made Megan talk to the hand.”

Okay, y’all. I think that’s all for now. Trust me, there’s plenty of material here for next time…



Can We Discuss Disney Princesses Though

I was on the phone with my dad yesterday crying (surprise) over my lack of romantic luck recently. He gave me some really wonderful advice, the most hilarious of which came when he said, “The worst thing Disney ever did for society was write those stupid happy endings.” Or something to that effect — I tend to describe things a little more sassily than he does.

Anyway, it got me thinking: according to Disney, everything works out in the end if you’re a quiet woman in a patriarchal society. I am not quiet, and I’m actively attempting to smash the patriarchy at every turn, so I’m a little concerned about what this means for my love life. Also, I’m not exactly straight so I just wanna know what Disney would recommend if I’m trying to woo a mermaid, but I doubt I’ll be getting any answers on that front any time soon.

I’ve never wanted to be a princess, but I’m realizing that in a Disney world, I would have to be in order to fall in love, so uh…here we go. Now, there are a few (million) necessary adjustments I must make to my life in order to attain princess perfection:

  1. Become tiny. Which might be difficult since I’m 6′ and not exactly slender. Maybe I can cut my legs off at the knees, which would successfully reduce my weight and height in one fell swoop. It would also allow me to become helpless. Maybe my prince would be down to push me around in a wheelchair for the rest of eternity (which is obviously also how long our love would last).
  2. Replace my sweet mother with some horrible woman who wants to lock me in a tower or make me mop her floors and take care of her fat, evil cat. I could probably start looking for that type of woman at the local Chicos clothing store. The more chunky jewelry, the better, I’d assume.
  3. Become straight. And probably develop a dwarf and/or squirrel fetish.
  4. Don’t leave the house unless I look immaculate (note to self: find fairy godstylist). Only do housework if forced to. Allow mice to take up residence in my apartment.
  5. Immediately unlearn every self defense skill I’ve ever been taught. Walk into forests alone at night. Take food from strangers. Make deals with weird octopi in ocean caves. Make out with frogs even though they probably have weird swamp bacteria all over their bodies. Totally wander into random cabins in the woods without worrying about some racist hillbilly coming in and axe murdering me while I’m fast asleep.
  6. Let teacups teach me about love. Employ candlesticks for both light and therapeutic advice. Become easily impressed by silverware. Become way too obsessed with my hair for anyone’s good (this one might not be too tricky for me).
  7. Stop talking. This might be hard, as I don’t think I’ve spent more than 3 hours in silence at any given time. I even talk in my sleep, for goodness sake.
  8. Assume kissing men will always be magical and totally save my life. Because obviously everyone knows how to kiss me the way I’d like. None of them will shove their tongues down my throat (princes don’t actually possess tongues, anyway) or drool on me (and yes, before you ask, that has happened to me and I really don’t want to talk about it). Let random twerps kiss me just in case it helps my situation in life.

I think that’s it.

And yes, I’m super serious about the squirrel fetish.

Merry Christmas, Plebeians

We were going for “romantic” but Mickey’s rockstar heart just can’t be tamed.

Dear Friends,

Well, 2013 sure did fly by — like me, on my private jet, flying off to Morocco. I have, once again, had an amazing year that was probably much more exciting than yours.

As you probably read in the tabloids, my new lover Mickey and I were swept up in a whirlwind romance that culminated in him proposing atop the Eiffel Tower a few months ago. As we prepare for our lavish wedding in the Bahamas, we wanted to make sure we kept you up to date with our lives, since you will definitely not be getting an invite to the wedding. It’s very exclusive, and you’re just…not exclusive material.

When my latest book, Welcome to Paradise: A Memoir of Fame, Glory and Striking Beauty hit the shelves earlier this year, I was hailed by critics as “clearly having a better life than anyone else on the planet” and “a perfect example of why other people should just sit down and stop trying, since Cappy is so much better than anyone else ever could be.” Obviously, the book wasn’t as popular as I’d hoped (is a Pulitzer really too much to ask for?), but those reviews were rather sweet.

I travelled the world on yet another exhausting book tour over the summer. Asia was particularly difficult because, wherever I went, fans wanted photos with me. It must’ve been my gorgeous face, long legs and blonde hair that really made them love me. Well, that and the fact that I inspire awe wherever I go.

I dyed my gorgeous locks pink for charity earlier this month, and have been offered several modeling gigs since. I guess I just have “the look” now (who am I kidding — I’ve always had the look). I’ve turned them all down, of course, because with my hectic schedule and amazing love life I just don’t have the time. Besides, I wouldn’t want to make the other models jealous of my natural, raw talent.

Mickey has been trying to relax lately. After his recent tour of North America with his rock band, The Cat’s Meow, he came home to our New York apartment and slept for a week. When he woke up, we started a strict sushi diet — all that fish oil is really very good for the hair, you know — and have been lounging around and opening our Christmas presents from our adoring fans.

We love you. Without you, we’d have no one to brag to about our important lives. We expect amazing things in 2014 and hope you stay healthy for another year so you’re around to hear us brag about our accomplishments in the next Christmas letter.


We love you!

We love you!

One of Your Closest Pets May Be Gay

23452_funny_cat_in_spaceMy dad and I just spent a good 30 minutes laughing at horoscopes. We have come to the conclusion that (shocker) they are total crap.

AIRES: If you hesitate, you may be put in the driver’s seat. Impressively confusing and nonsensical. Also, why is driving a car the punishment for hesitation? Surely if your reflexes aren’t quick, your friends wouldn’t make you drive them around. That just sounds like an accident waiting to happen. Don’t leave anything to chance. Push the envelope to reveal news about your future. You tell that envelope you won’t have it hiding secrets about your future from you!

TAURUS: Collect your thoughts. Break away from the image others have of you. I take this to mean that I should become a transvestite or some sort of drag “king” if you will. I will also chop my legs off at the knees, as people’s image of me is “tall.” Your strong feelings on current topics may make you a little too subjective. That is universally true, but thank you for that…wisdom.

GEMINI: Your interest into the past may have piqued. Pretty sure the person who wrote this is the same man that wrote the Chinese instructions for assembling my office chair, because that is barely English. Family time should create strong bonds. It should, but it will probably just make you want to murder each other. Find ways to mend fences and create new friendships. Combine those two by mending your shambly fences with the people you want to be friends with.

CANCER: Family matters may be very demanding on you emotionally. Those episodes can get pretty crazy, especially when Urkel hikes his pants up a little too high and you’re like, whoa Steve, I like you, but I’m seeing too much in the trouser area. And when Mr. Winslow gets mad at Urkel…well, those are emotionally trying scenes for us all. Try your best to lessen the stress in your life by reducing your responsibilities at work. You know how you can do that? Quit your job.

LEO: All eyes may seem to be on you. Maybe. But then again, they may not. The eyes may be crossed…one eye might be lazy and looking a bit to the left. Look, at least one eye is on you. Probably. Your flair for the creative may tend to reveal how much you love what you do. May tend. Possibly. Ish. Your ability to overcome adversity will prevail. Adversity is hard. You go girl.

VIRGO: You might be able to improve your future by putting a few major tasks on hold. It’s all you, baby. You put those tasks on hold.  Show those tasks who’s boss. Spend more time and energy into creating your own master plan. To rule the world!

LIBRA: Imagine your future and make it come true. Or stop imagining and actually get off your butt and do something. Realize that the time you invest could bring an amazing amount of satisfaction. Did that feel a little vague for you? Yeah, us too. Ok, well brace yourself. One of your closest pets may be gay. Do you have a penguin? It might be your penguin that’s gay. Otherwise, cat. Cats seem a bit gay.

SCORPIO: Your words can bring much joy if you put a positive spin on them. Really? I’d never noticed. Remember that any hint of negativity will only cause hurt feelings and broken dreams. Well that escalated quickly. Don’t. Break. The. Dreams.

SAGITTARIUS: You could receive kudos from colleagues who hold you in high esteem. You could, but you probably won’t, because you’re crap at your job. Also, no one gives kudos anymore. Welcome to 2013. Your immediate circle of friends may, in turn, be amazed by your success. They didn’t expect it either, because as I said before, you’re crap at your job.

CAPRICORN: Focusing on your deep emotions may tend to turn into a negative cycle. Looks like that Chinese man got laid off from his instruction writing job and is back at work on horoscopes. Put things into a better perspective and your vision could become much clearer. Or get glasses. I’ve heard that helps.

AQUARIUS: Time may be on your side. But probably not. So write your will, already, because time is ticking away. Express your opinions with a more optimistic outlook. This new-found tone could help relieve some of your tension. Just get a massage, for God’s sake.

PISCES: Don’t be hurt if someone doesn’t keep their part of the agreement. Just stick a horse’s head in their bed. It’ll all work out. Try to find a healthier balance for yourself by not expecting so much from others. Because people suck, and you just have to let them know that by cutting off their favorite horse’s head.

Please note that all the italicized words were from a real horoscope pamphlet my mom brought home today. You’re welcome, universe.

Happy Holidays! I’m Better Than You

3069914518_26770c90dfDear Friends,

It’s that season once more! The season of giving (to me) and snowmen and hot cocoa, which means its time to read my annual Holiday Letter of Self-Obsession.

As you all know, my Pulitzer Prize winning novel “This is Why I’m Hot” came out last year to rave reviews, so I’m pretty loaded now.

After my divorce from my brain surgeon husband (don’t worry, my divorce lawyers were better than his and I came away with the condo in the Bahamas and his mother’s antique diamond ring) I’ve been living a glamorous single life. Divorcing George was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, since our long relationship of one year really meant a lot to me (and he was seriously gorgeous), but the grief weight I lost was totally worth it!

In the wake of my book’s success and my very public divorce, I was hard at work on my new autobiography “The Life and Times of Me: The Jet-Setting Single Gal Who Still Manages to Make the Men Swoon” which came out last month.

I method-wrote the heck out of that book (by which I mean I travelled to every major Caribbean city and tanned for 3 hours a day in order to collect enough data to write a really sexy book about passion and mangos). I was like Daniel Day-Lewis, but feminine and a writer. And sexy.

I have also really enjoyed meeting my fans on my world book tour these past few weeks. The little people really do love me, and I’d like to thank them all for standing in line for hours while I sat in a chair drinking tea and receiving gifts from them. I want to say this: I appreciate your concern for me after my divorce, but if I get one more self-help book from you idiotic nothings, I will sue you all. Love you!

I’m now relaxing at my beach cottage in Florida with my man-servant Juan (who I met in yoga class). Juan is very flexible, soI’m enjoying life. I hope you have all been as fortunate as me this year, though I very much doubt it. If any of you are in Florida over the holidays, I would love to help set you up at a nearby cottage (for a small fee, of course). Stay beautiful…but not as beautiful as me.




Rocket Science

I’ve had to take a few yoga breaths and channel my inner buddha in order to do this, but I’m ready now.. Lots of my friends read this blog. In fact, I’m pretty sure about 50% of all my readers are people I know personally (and one of them is my father…hi Dad), so this post is a little too personal for my liking. But if I’ve learned anything from blogging, it’s that I love who I am and what I’m like and I am going all-out honest today.


I’ve decided to drop out of school to become a rocket scientist.

I know what you’re thinking: don’t you need a degree for that? Well, technically you do, but how hard can it be, really?Why else would people say, “It’s not rocket science!” when something’s really hard? …Or is that when something’s easy? Shoot.

Here’s the deal: I know I said I really wanted to be a writer forever and whatnot, but then I realized that I am so much better than that. Who needs to read, anyway? Rockets touch so much closer to home. Whenever I see a rocket (which is like, every day), I think I wish I knew how that thing worked. So I’ve decided to work for NASA. Cuz I’m that smart.

Science is soooo my thing. How else would I have gotten a C in AP Bio last year? I know, I know, you’re jealous that I got the highest grade in the class. Please don’t cry too hard, I’m sure you can do other stuff better than me. I can’t do push ups to save my life. Maybe you can.

And I’m really good at math, too. 2 + 2 = 4. That’s a really hard equation and it only took me like 20 minutes to figure out. And no, I didn’t use a calculator.

So I’ve decided that school is for fools and NASA is for people like me…plus, I’m pretty sure I’ll get to wear a lab coat. Please don’t miss me too much when I’m off being awesome. Oh, and because I’ll be researching the science of rockets, I will no longer be blogging. Sorry…

Aphorisms for the Wise (Part 2)

Love is an angry goat.

Many hands makes light work. They also make a lot of those turkey pictures.

A bird in the hand is worth two of George Bush.

Wake up and smell the coffee. But don’t drink it. That’s not what it’s for.

Stop and smell the roses. But be careful of thorns and bees and…just don’t sniff to hard.

A picture’s worth a thousand words. Because it’s faster to just take a photo than listen to an old person drone on and on and on…

Respect your elders. Except when you blog.

Melancholy men are of all the others most witty. Except when they’re crying in their soup. Then they’re just soupy.

Word is a shadow of a deed. Does that make PowerPoint a vapor of a contract?

A war is not won unless the defeated enemy has been turned into a friend. Pshhhh good luck with that.

Give a man a fish, and he’ll eat for a day. Give a man a Big Mouth Billy Bass and he’ll regift it to you next Christmas.

Time must needs call the tune and man must follow it. Kind of like the Pied Piper…but sad.

He that dies pays all debts. Except, HA, he doesn’t.

How to Stay Thin

You're gonna want to focus on the "thin" part, not the "big."

1. While cleaning, play music.
Some people prefer funk, some like classical (though how you’re supposed to dance enough to burn calories I don’t know), and some like hip hop. I, however, am partial to blasting Nirvana/Smashing Pumpkins/The Strokes and jumping around singing until I can barely walk. That, my friends, is exercise. 

2. Eat only blue foods.
Let me give you a hint: there are about two naturally occurring, edible blue foods on the planet – blueberries and…something else. 

3. Find the planet’s second blue food.
Take a hike across some tropical island in search of this mysterious food. You’ll burn calories quickly, plus you’ll have that mystery food to look forward to. Just make sure it isn’t poisonous. And if it turns out to be, induce vomiting immediately…that should help you lose a pound or two. 

4. Look in the mirror and trash talk your love handles.
“You worthless pieces of flab! I don’t need you! You are WORTHLESS! WORTHLESS! I bet you think you can just cling onto me for support forever. Well think again, flabbies!”
They’ll be so depressed that they’ll immediately detach themselves from your body and hide under a rock. 

4. Fidget.
A lot. Tap your toes, fingers, feet, whatever. Do it constantly, and you’ll eventually lose like…one pound. Congrats! You are officially an idiot for listening to me. And now you look like a crack addict. 

This is your ideal body type, right?

5. Get yourself addicted to crack.
Crack whores = sexy. And if you live anywhere on this planet, you’ve seen one. They have skinny arms and skinny legs and skinny everything. They probably even have skinny hair. Ever heard of Skinny Cow ice cream products? Yeah, that cow’s on crack. And Skinny Girl Margaritas? Maybe you should get yourself some of those too…
Please, go find yourself a cocaine dealer and get smokin, cuz you could really stand to lose a few…
Go on. You know you want to.