For once, Lea Michele and I are on the same page. Last night on “Jimmy Kimmel,” she revealed that she threw up while singing “Let It Go” — and the entire thing was caught on camera. While this video has yet to surface, I am excited that I live in a world where even Lea Michele, my worst nightmare, cannot tolerate the aural nightmare that is “Let It Go.” Watch her talk about it with Kimmel above, and if you have footage of this momentous occasion, please send it to me so that I may watch it when I’m feeling blue. [EW]
Youngest Kardashian-Jenner kid and teal-haired unicorn Kylie Jenner has dropped out of home school in order to focus on building her personal brand and making money, according to reports by Radar. This move was allegedly supported by Mom of The Year Kris Jenner, who firmly believes each of her babies is destined to be a star. Kylie, by the way, is, like, 17. She has maybe one year of home school left. Maybe even just half a semester. All she has to do is scrape by and get her diploma and then she’s free to do whatever it is her little heart desires! But, I can’t be mad at anybody with ambition, even if that ambition means they read a lot less books. Here’s what I’m thinking went through her head.
Keep reading »
Mike Huckabee has been going on a bit of a whirlwind tour promoting his book Gods, Guns, Grits and Gravy. The purpose of this book, he says, is to explain “Real America” to those of us who live in cities, as though small town America is something we cannot possibly understand.
He calls certain areas of the country–the coasts and major cities–”Bubblevilles” and the rest of the country “Bubbaville.” Which, were I to live in the latter, I would find incredibly insulting. He claims that those of us who live in these “Bubblevilles” are, for all intents and purposes, living in “Bubbles” where we don’t have to understand those who live in “Bubbaville.” He seems to think that we think everyone in “Bubbaville” is stupid because they did not go to Harvard. Or something. That we don’t understand their down-home, wholesome, common sense ways. Keep reading »
Bonkers New York Times Style section trend pieces are par for the course (just last spring, they did a piece on how males love to wear tank tops to Coachella, which was sort of like Andie in “The Devil Wears Prada” realizing five years too late that her cerulean sweater had been carefully chosen for her by the people in this very room Ahhhn-drea), and I usually like to abide by them all anyways, because I am very boring at best and trendy overalls scare me sans proper vetting. But their latest offering to the Gods of Basic, a breathy love letter about media millennials and how “crumbs at the keyboard” are the new power lunch, well, that I cannot abide by. Keep reading »
I’ve been seeing psychiatrists — doctors whose purpose is primarily to examine and diagnose an emotional disorder or condition, then prescribe a plan of treatment, whether therapeutic or pharmaceutical — on and off for over half my life. The ratio of good to mediocre to bad experiences I’ve had with psychiatrists is roughly equal — the best psychiatrist I ever had listened to me when I disputed my diagnosis and insisted that I really didn’t want to take medications. He brainstormed with me about how to treat not a diagnosis, which is broad and can border on stereotyping a patient, but rather the actual, specific emotional experiences that I was having. He suggested a therapist in his practice who specialized in Dialectical Behavioral Therapy, and it was a godsend. It is a nigh-perfect treatment for me and has had significant positive effects that have served as a better long-term solution than medication. Keep reading »
Remember that episode of “Sex and the City” when Miranda’s date dies on her? Apparently, Ann Gray saw that one too, and decided to fabricate something similar to dodge her own date. The British 29-year-old met a man on a dating site, and knew after their third date that he wasn’t the guy for her. She told The Mirror that despite several gentle let-downs, he wouldn’t take the hint and continued to ask her out. He continued to message her, sometimes with an ever-so-slightly creepy tone: “I think we need to have a date tonight! I will be around your house in 30 minutes.” Um, no thanks. Gray knew she had to up her game to get this guy out of her hair, so she killed herself off with a text. Keep reading »