Moving right along...

It's been a long stretch of silence and time for some change.  Interested in reading all about it?  You can find it at obsessedinagoodway.com.

Thanks for all of the support!

World Ruling Resolutions

I’m not a fan of New Year’s Resolutions.  I don’t believe in flipping the page on a calendar and suddenly getting the ‘okay’ to change a whole bunch of crap about myself and my life.  I mean, can you think of anything more intimidating than a laundry list of all the things you want to do different, better, for the first time (or the last time)?  Yikes!  Talk about a pressure cooker.

I can think of no better way to set myself up to fail than to stare at a list of insurmountable things to do.  Nope.  Not for me.  I mean any day that ends in a “y” is a good enough day to effect change, right?

So if you ask me (which I know you didn’t but I’m going to tell you anyway), we should be resolving and evolving every day. It doesn’t have to all be epic stuff.  It’s whatever you want it to be.  So whether it’s to hit the gym or take out the trash.  To get up five minutes earlier or to not wait until the last minute to make the hair appointment.  To buy less.  To buy more.  Smile at strangers.  Stand up for yourself.  Be happy.  Be less snarky. 

Whatever it is, it’s your own personal stuff.  And you can start over, start new, start fresh on any day you want.  It’s up to you and it’s your personal business.  Same as mine.  Which I’ll keep to me, myself and I.

But of course with me being me I couldn’t help but fantasize about all the things I would resolve to change in the universe if in the event I, well, ruled the world.  So here goes.  If I had the almighty power, I would wave my magic wand and a whole new world would start in 2014 and look a little something like this:

• Vanderpump Rules would film year round and air year round.  The drama would never end.  I don’t think I’ve been this obsessed pleasantly surprised about a reality TV show since LC and Kristin Cavallari walked onto my TV screen.  Keep Jax and Stassi and the Toms and the angry drunk with the bad dye job coming. (I know it’s you Katie.  I just like to hate on your hair and eyebrows). 
• I find the fabulous agent who lands me the amazing book deal, which affords me the opportunity to leave this corporate world behind.
• And then I finish another book.  And enjoy my book tour.  Kicking ass and taking names.
• The word “Kardashian” and anything and everything it’s associated with would magically disappear.  No more screen time.  No more overexposure.  No more sucking up minutes on E! News.  No tabloid coverage.  No ridiculous selfies.  No famous for knowing famous people.  None of it.  They would just go back to being a family in Calabasas that none of us ever knew existed.  
• Manicures would never chip.  And they wouldn’t require any gel or acrylics to stay put.
• The only time there would be crappy weather on the weekend would be when I was looking for an excuse to hibernate, hide out and do nothing.  Those things are so much easier to rationalize when it’s crazy raining or snowing or plain old arctic outside.  Here’s looking at you Mother Nature.
• Sirens, car horns, garbage trucks and generally disruptive noise would only be allowed from 9 a.m. – 6 p.m. on days I’m at work.  Other than that I want to enjoy the quiet.  I know I live in the city, but Midtown East would be free of this crap. 
• Miley would put her clothes on.
• McConaughey and B. Cooper would keep taking theirs off.
• I’d freeze time for a bit so I could enjoy the here and now.  I’ve frittered away time and since I can’t get it back, I’d like to stop it.  (Though if I could go back a few years, knowing then what I know now, that could be cool.  But this is all about looking forward not back.  So freeze time it is.)
• Manhattan real estate would be more affordable.  And I’d get myself an upgrade.  With a much better closet.  And doors that aren’t hanging by a string.  And a washer/dryer in the apartment.
• Johnny Damon would be playing baseball again.
• Crazy people would steer clear of me.  Not the good crazy people.  Just the ones who are crazy as all get out.  The stalkers and clingers.  The single white females.  The ones with the inexplicable tempers.  The ones who never own their mistakes.  Or who fabricate situations out of thin air to try to explain why they suck.  You know who I’m talking about….the ones who put the cray-cray in crazy.  People who like to get crazy – fun nights out, laughing until it hurts, twisted and dirty senses of humor, who knock off a bottle of wine and don’t hesitate to order another – you can all happily stay.  You make my life better.  Good crazy = totally cool.  Bad crazy = don’t go away mad…just go away.
• I’d also like the compulsive liars to leave me be.
• And the toxic folks.  You can keep on walking.  In fact I might send you all to an island together.  Or maybe to Britney’s Vegas show.  For life.  You’re toxic.  I’m slipping under.
• Weekly massages at Bliss would be required.
• As would monthly trips to Paris.  And I would fall asleep as soon as I sat down on the plane and wake up just as we landed, looking and feeling amazing.  Always in first class.  Because I deserve it.
• Book deals would not be handed out to people just because they are on TV.  What could Snookie and Brandi Glanville really have to say that’s worth the money they are making?  Maybe I’m jealous (I’d magically whisk that away btw).  But seeing people like this get even richer doing my dream does make me a little crazy.
• Travelling for fun would be a rule not an exception.
• Duran Duran would reunite. With Andy Taylor this time.  And I’d have front row seats.
• Sophia Bush would be my biffle.  As in BFFL.  As in best friend for life.  Since she’s already coming back to TV in January that magic was already spun.  So BFFL it is.
• Humidity would not affect my hair.
• The treadmill under the ceiling fan would always be available.
• My singing voice wouldn’t make people cry.  In pain.  And this would be my theme song:

So tell me…what would you resolve to change if you could?

Pumping Vander

I’m slowly recovering from my NaNo writing hangover.   The good thing is my mind is spinning with ideas.  The bad thing is I definitely needed to give myself more than 24 hours to recover because my brain is also mush.  And I'm having a hard time typing.  Like I have paws for hands.  Or maybe the Advil PM is kicking in and I won't remember any of this in the morning.  Either way, this combo of uselessness  means it’s the perfect time to catch up on the DVR and I have never be happier about Bravo’s existence.

At this stage of the game I could take or leave Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Though let's be honest…I can't quit them, man.  

If I could be so bold as to call them storylines, would have to say Kyle’s is same old/same old (hot hubby, kids, squabbling with someone), Kim is a little dry for me (pun intended) and she’s got a really scary dog (I like her better on Watch What Happens), Yolanda just irks me with her juice cleanses and her overall ‘tude and Brandi…well….I’ve got nothing.  And she’s got no class.  But she did write a book and got a new big house which really sends my jealous rage into overdrive.  Another faux-leb with a book deal?!  Dammit.  And what is Lisa thinking hanging with her?  Oh, wait, she learned that Brandi is bad news.  The episode just hasn’t aired yet.

And then there’s the new girls. Who of course are similar looking but there's no chance we'll mix these two ladies up. 

We’ve got Joyce.  Oops…sorry…dozed off just typing her name.  And I also have tha bad name-association because I grew up with a girl and her German Shepard's name was Joyce so there's that.  Sorry BJ Joyce.  I just don't think I could like you even if I wanted to.

And then there's Carlton.  She’s apparently there to shake things up.  She’s the f-bombing mom, who’s also a Wicca and has a house that looks like a church and is a’ok with Brandi dropping the c-word (and I don’t mean ‘candy’) and apparently they made out.  (Who?!  What?!).  Yet oddly when snoozy Von Joyce (she won a beauty pageant at some stage) talked about her hubby's package, Carlton was offended over how classless Joyce was.  Huh?  You can laugh about see you next Tuesday all the live long day, but Joyce talking about how hot she thinks her hubby is, is inappropriate?  Oh and she gives her cat acupuncture.  Good Lord.  I can’t deal with her.

So I pretty much blitz through RHOBH to get the good stuff.  And I’m gonna be honest.  My Vander is so pumping right now!  To the point that I can’t even contain myself.  So why wait? 

It’s been a year in filming time since the last season ended.  And isn’t it great to see everyone is still working at SUR, hating on each other and getting drunk and having fights.  Wasn’t it so fun to be in our twenties?   

So here goes.  And bee-tee-dubs not even hate-watching Vanderpump Rules anymore.   All love.

• Jax is back at SUR.  Stassi is still being the biggest B in town to him.  And he keeps coming back for more.   Grow a pair dude.  Last we saw you, you admitted your name and pretty much your whole life was a lie.  And yet this people take you back.  And despite all that Jax has managed to outdo himself by being even more preposterous than before.  While chilling at the tat parlor to get his tribal tat covered with some fish/flower/something giant (because Princess Stassi would never date a guy with tribal tat), he got a “Stassi” tattoo.  Because that will help win her back.  Bad enough to get a current gf’s name tattooed on your body (i.e. kiss of death).  But an already ex’s name?  #youreatotaldbag
• It was tough last year that there were two boyfriends named Tom with little to distinguish them in my mind.  Tougher still?  They are both back.  Lucky for us viewers rockstar Tom (the one with all the hair mousse and flat iron) is getting lots of screen time since he cheated on Kristen and that’s all anyone can talk about when his name comes up.  I’m not defending his cheating, but man this guy is taking a beating.
• Which brings me to the fact that Tom and Kristin are still together in some weird roommate relationship sitch.  I realize we see about 10% of what gets filmed but I’m thinking if I spent all of my time crying and fighting with someone who cheated on me with a stranger in Vegas, then I’d probably want out.  (Or at least my no longer 20something self would.)  
• Any time Kristin’s not fighting with Tom she’s fighting with her friends about him because it’s ALL THESE GIRLS TALK ABOUT.  #getalife  Man up, someone (anyone!), and end the torture of this fauxlationship.  Kristin seems to live to torture Tom.  I get it…he cheated on you and it sucked.  Royally.  But either forgive him and move forward. Or don’t and move out.  But don’t complain about the situation you’re in when you have total control over your choice to stay or go.  End scene.
• The fact that Katie (aka the other girl from Season 1) has now dyed her hair an offending shade of orange which eventually becomes a horrid blonde has served the wonderful purpose of making me realize 1) she isn’t Kristin and 2) she exists.  She has
  
  also managed to draw crazy attention to her giant dark eyebrows.  I’m not an advocate of plucking them into oblivion, but they kind of look like they were drawn on with a jumbo black magic marker. Katie – a word of advice from a been-there-done-that-brunette-who-went-blonde.  Not a good look.  Oh, and your burlesque dancing….also not a good look.
• Scheana got a SUR bestie so maybe she has a small chance of not getting totally slaughtered at work every day.  This chick Arianna from Lisa’s other restaurant is there to bartend and hang out with her other bestie Tom…you know Kristin’s cheater bf.  Just a matter of time before that whole triangle thing implodes.  Bring it.
• Stassi’s mom.  There is something about a middle-aged woman trying to fit in with her daughter and her friends by downing tequila shots and wanting to hunker down for girl talk that just reeks of pathetic and painful.  Nothing screams desperate like trying to get your fifteen minutes of fame off your crazy train daughter. It actually physically hurts.  You might want to give Dina Lohan a call now and save yourself a lot of time.
• Scheana had an apparently debilitating oral surgery.  And sprains her ankle.  And then shows up in the biggest eyeglasses I’ve seen since Urkle with some phantom eye injury, which in a later episode makes her fear getting her make-up done for a SUR party.  Huh?  How?  Someone please keep this nonsense coming. 
• When Katie and Scheana’s boyfriends get into fisticuffs at Scheana and Pandora’s birthday party I actually started to laugh.  And they were fighting about the fact that the girls were fighting.  So ridic.  Surprisingly Jax didn’t pull his shirt off to be a part of the fight (apparently so last season).  Still brilliant TV. 
• More brilliant?  Pandora and her adorbs hubby (hello, Jason!) left the party
  
  early since it was so juvenile and petty and bitchy.  She’s total mini-Lisa.  I hope she gets more screen time this year. I’d also like to be her friend and get to write for her online magazine.  Why don’t my friends have online magazines?  Grrrr.  Argh.
• There’s also another new face from SUR that entered the scene.  I don’t know her name, but it isn’t really important.  She’s not a lead player. She’s just there to fill the fourth seat with Stassi, Kristin and not-Kristin-I’m-Katie,  get drunk and talk some smack.  Welcome to the jungle.  I’m sure she will either be skewered by Stassi or Scheana at some point this season.  Every mean girl group needs the sacrificial lamb.
• Uh…Stassi and Kristen do a wardrobe styling for their passport photo.  OMFG.  The last time Kristen styled herself this much was for her mugshot.  Not even kidding.  She says it the way a normal person might mention they have to go get their laundry from the dryer.  It was almost as causal as Jax telling the dudes he might have breast cancer.  Yes.  That is in all seriousness too.  Test results to come next week…..

This season has seriously been so entertaining I almost stopped longing for the crazy train recovering meth addict who Jax rebounded with post-Stassi.  Wouldn’t she make for a great cameo?

Fingers are crossed for next week.  

And oh…PS- they are still filming the show so you know there’s lots of juicy goodness to come.  Thank you, Andy Cohen.  This spinoff is true genius.  As are you.

The NaNo Victory Dance

Are you there blog?  It's me.  Again.  Having been the most neglectful I've ever been.  It's amazing I can keep my plants alive given the total lack of attention I've paid to my personal life in the past three months.  But I've been thinking about you.  I swear.  But I know…I know….actions speak louder than words.  So here goes nothing.

I’m finally emerging from the Bermuda writing triangle.  I spent a better part of November with my ass glued to the chair and my hands on the keyboard.  And have so happily typed my way to a third straight “win” in National Novel Writing Month.  Won with 51,733 words to be exact. 

Now, to be clear, anyone who hits the 50K word goal “wins”.  And by "anyone" I mean writers of all genres of all levels from all over the world.  We're not just anyone, but what I consider a totally fabulous group.  

And also to be clear typing 50,000 words of anything isn’t an easy feat so I’m tooting my horn and tapping myself on the back and raising the roof.  And along with 309,366 other novelists I committed to getting it done and while I’m not sure how many people crossed the 50K finish line, I know I am in very, very good company.

I’m still high on finishing NaNo.  It’s been a hell of a few months but I decided I wouldn’t let myself get derailed from something I really wanted to do. And now I have the beginnings and some middle of my next project.  Woot! 

It’s my fourth year doing NaNo and I always come out the other side feeling so much more inspired and proud and better.  And it reminds me that even though I’m suffering from a hell of a lot of paralysis in the rest of my life, I put my head down and despite lots of distractions (many of which were self-inflicted….like the internet and the TV and shopping and the internet) I got it done.  Which kind of renews my faith in the fact that if I put my head and my heart into something I can get it done.

I know, very so-cheesy-it-makes-me-want-to-puke happy ending here, but what can I say?  I’m feeling blissfully hopeful about what could be instead of what is.

And that’s that for now.  I’m taking the night off to buy myself a victory present (hello, Barnes & Noble) and am going to indulge in some TV.  Then it’s back at The Legacy final rewrites.  Like the saying goes, writers write.  And that’s just what I’m going to do.  Tomorrow.

So bad it's good.....the magic of real-crapity TV!

After a whole season of OC Housewives and a three-part reunion, I must admit it was all worth it.  I can’t possibly capture a whole season in one post, but as always they saved the best for last which made all hours I devoted to this show so very worth it:

Andy Cohen’s saddle shoes.  Just when I thought he couldn’t get any better. 

Brianna verbally kicking the crap out of Brooks.  She annihilated him with words and left him blubbering and stumbling and tripping over his words.  Creeper.  Freaker.  I’m 100% Team Brianna on this one.  Finally someone calling him out on two years of what everyone else wanted to say.  I can't bring myself to go into gross detail. Favorite line – “he’s the only ‘ick’ in my life!”. 

And then Vicky and Brooks break up in the lamest way.  On national TV.  He loves her enough to let her go.  Huh? What?  Maybe if he loved her he wouldn’t treat her daughter like crap and lie and disrespect her family.  Can we roll Michael out to chime in on this?  Where did he go?  Does anyone want to take bets on the return of Don?

Brooks who?  We heart booze!

And PS – if the love of my life dumped me on a couch….while being filmed….in front of all of my friends….for a reality show reunion….I’d probably melt into a pool of my own tears and then crawl off stage to die.  I mean I know we’re watching a reality show here, but I’m starting to think some of this stuff is staged….

Love that Tamra can’t get far enough away from Brooks on the couch and looks so uncomfortably horrified.  She needs the holy water from her bachelorette party that Heather was spraying on the strippers in Cabo.

Andy calling Gretchen out on not being able to pronounce “something”.  In Planet Gretchen it’s pronounced “sunting”. 

Lydia explaining that the reason she doesn’t do her own laundry is not because she doesn’t know how, but because she doesn’t have to.  Bravo!  (no pun intended)  There are many days when I wish I had someone else to do my laundry.  But then I realize I would skeeve having a stranger touch my stuff.  Or possibly even having someone I do know touch my stuff.  Except my mom.  Just being honest.

Alexis claims poor editing made her hubby look like a d. bag.  I'm sure he's really quite funny and supportive when no one is looking.  And not name-dropping or bragging about the price of his scarf.  Or perhaps it was your bully-inspired Xanax scrip that makes him seem less d. baggy.  I get it.  The world is a much happier place when Xanax is involved.

Andy’s facial expressions throughout the entire show.  I cannot get enough of him.  He’s such a riot.  And unrelated to RH, but Gaga is going to be on WWHL in a few weeks.  So ahh-may-zing!!

Lydia's final thought is she feels like she's been punched in the head.  And that's a wrap.

And then there’s this…..

City Girl Diaries continues to be the best-worst show on TV right now.  If that term is confusing you it’s easy….it’s the worst show I’ve watched in a long time and I can’t stop watching it which makes it the best.

How do you know it’s the worst?  Style moved their airtime from Sunday at 9 p.m. to Sunday at 12 midnight.  One small push into cancellation if you ask me.  Or perhaps they are targeting a west coast crowd?  Or perhaps it’s just good-bad.  And here’s why:

Aspiring fashion designer, Leila can’t seem to get it together. She’s just like a lot A.D.D.  So when she thinks she *might* be pregnant everything goes to hell.  She just can’t concentrate because she’s like so stressed over her maybe being preggers.  You know a good way to find out?  TAKE A TEST!  But she’d rather not and just confide in a few strategic people like her live-in BF and one of her besties (with the two moms…yeah, that happened too) and oh, the PR guy managing her maybe-career.  The PR guy that she essentially had to beg to take her back after he canned her ass years ago because she was essentially an entitled brat. Let’s see…he already thinks you’re an unfocused, unreliable, possible waste of time.  So why not miss your first deadline with him and cry and tell him you *might* be pregnant? 

Again.  Take the test.  It’s kind of easy.  Just ask Clear Blue.  Just saying.  You might want to at least rack up a false positive before you start telling people you’re worried you’re preggers.

And one last thing – if you can’t come to terms with taking the test after four weeks of waiting there’s probably some other issues you need to deal with.  Meet my friend Dee Nyle.

In the most brilliant reality show cameo that I’ve seen in a long time, the girls have a Hamptons trip and stay at the house of none other than Devorah Rose of Social Life Magazine.  If you don’t know who she is:

1. Shame on you
2. Real Housewives of NY – Season 1.  She put Bethenny on the cover and whined her way through an episode.
3. NYC Prep – she crept all over PC when he was all of 18 and she needed TV time.  Is it
   
   just me or is needing to hang out with a high schooler when you’re in your 30s in an effort to social climb just total nonsense?
4. High Society - that little train wreck known as the crappy Tinsley Mortimer reality show
5. Fashionista Diaries - Another Style network stroke of genius that needs to come back.  It's so 2007 but still....so great.

Her screen time was short, but nice to see she’s still in circulation.

Then there’s Leigh, the PR chick with ‘tude who lives in Brooklyn with her baby and her Baby Daddy and his extremely scary dog.  They have a tiny apartment and fight all the time but B. Daddy decides a house in Jersey where the dog can run free and they don’t have to look at each other 24/7 will solve all their problems.  Sure.  Might as well crank out another kid while you’re at it.

So (shocker!) they find a house in New Jersey and (shocker Part II) Leigh loves/hates it.  (You can see why she’s on the best/worst show now, right?)  B. Daddy is all in.  Leigh is skeptical.  It’s a long commute from Jersey to NYC for drinks with the girls.  But c’mon Leigh.  Don’t you see what opportunity might come a’knockin?  You are one backyard wedding away from being eligible for Real Houswives of NJ.  In case you haven’t heard, there might be a vacancy soon since a certain someone-someone might be heading to the big house.  And newsflash.  Jersey Housewives are also on Sunday night.  At 9 p.m.  On Bravo.  Upgrade!

Back in the Hamptons, Possibly Pregger’s bestie gets drunk and tells the rest of the girls that Leila is four weeks late.  Gasp!  What?  None of them can believe.  But then they get over it and get hammered and two of them get nearly naked and jump into the pool together.  Oh, good lord!  It’s not the Real World Hawaii.  You’re in your late 30s for crissakes.  Stop it.

The next night Possibly Preggers shows up at the Hamptons party and promptly knocks back some champagne while the other women awkwardly look on until one of them slurs “you’re pregnant, right?”.  Yeah, not so much.  She puts on a good front of being super bummed about it but in the next confessional she admits she’s totes relieved and maybe if she like got married she’d be more open to being knocked up.  Her live in BF seems more interested in having a kid.  One look at this meathead and he also looks like the kind of guy who might not understand how to use Velcro, but I don’t want judge.

My brain needs a desperate dose of something good.  Time to catch up on Pretty Little Liars…..