April Showers Bring Mayday Mudslides


Two toothpaste containers and menstrual cycles ago, I shut my door and buried myself with books, ample facial moisturizer, and “Mad Men.” Sometime in March, I put on an eternal pot of strong coffee that has somehow produced a pond of joe from which I drink all day, every day.

Other than a few trips to the Zombieland grocery store, a walk with my zany sister, and a sad meetup with my best friend where we each sat in our cars and conversed through the cracks in our windows, I’ve been here. I’m watching my children outgrow the clothes they wear, and wondering what’s next.

Nothing is funny anymore, is it? Every complaint and gossipy story must be prefaced with a “I know I’m lucky not be sick,” or “I hate to complain, but…” Can’t we be grateful to be healthy AND be disappointed in this horrifying situation – while fitting in wisecracks? Perhaps we can all give each other a chance to whine and vent without being so judgmental.

So here it is, some things that have spread a smile across my stressed face.

A Love Letter to Ben

The relief we all crave.

Ben Affleck has been popping up during COVID with his new girlfriend, star-on-the-rise Ana de Armas. They gaze at each other lovingly, like new beautiful lovers do.  As they clutch their Dunkin’ coffees, dog leashes and donuts, they’re effortlessly and casually chic.

Ben is an honest slice of Americana, a man bold enough to smoke a cigarette, in public, while wearing his mask. Ben’s deep drag on his butt is the collective relief that we’re all desperately craving. One doesn’t have to be a smoker to know that need. I feel it every time I pass my pantry and stuff chips into my mouth, looking down at the crumbs that have fallen on my kitchen floor and not really caring. I feel that release as I down my eighth cup of coffee, knowing that I just extended my bedtime to 2 a.m. and not caring.

Ben, I thank you for your loyalty. You’re steadfast in your zest for coffee, nicotine, and Boston. I thank you for your daily COVID walks, no doubt traipsed by paparazzi. I appreciate your white beard hair, fluctuating weight and honest portrayal of your battle with addiction.     

Somewhere in Malibu, Jennifer Garner is rolling her little eyes.

Notes During Quarantine

Reality TV’s Basic b&^ch.
  • When I pleaded for a celebrity scandal, I wasn’t hoping for Kristen Cavallari and Jay Cutler divorcing. Yup, I’m guilty of watching “The Hills” and “Very Cavallari,” and I can assure you that Kristen Cavallari is the most boring “celebrity” of all time, that Jay Cutler provides the only entertainment on “Very Cavallari,” and that somewhere there’s a “Bachelor” reject waiting to marry Cavallari in a soon-to-be televised reality series. YAWN.
  • I can cook approximately nine dinners and if I ever eat them again, I may never want to eat again.
  • Proving, once again, that Britney Spears is the celebrity gift that keeps giving, Queen Spears recently announced that she burned down her own gym. In her own words, “Hi guys, I’m in my gym right now. I haven’t been in here for like six months because I burnt my gym down, unfortunately.” Thank you, Britney. You are what the world needs right now.
Via Giphy
  • I just watched all 92 “Mad Men” episodes again. I know there are so many new programs to watch but I needed the comfort of double nostalgia. Nostalgia for a time I never lived and nostalgia for a cooler time when I watched the series. I love everything about “Mad Men” and watching it again is refreshing and sobering. Don Draper is a wretched man, Peggy Olsen is a comedic revelation of ambition and sadness, and January Jones’s Betty Draper is what nightmares and daydreams are made of.
  • It’s impossible to know if people are smiling or frowning behind their masks and it makes interactions extra scary.
  • Fiona Apple’s new album “Fetch the Bolt Cutters” is exactly what I hoped it would be and so much more. There could not be a more fitting soundtrack for quarantine than this poetic masterpiece.

Billboard Music Awards: Chrissy Teigen stumbles, Taylor West’s sexuality makes an entrance, Minaj grabs her crotch as well as a man, Kayne’s spiral meets scum.


Oh Chrissy, don't quit your day job. Wait, what is her day job?

Oh Chrissy, don’t quit your day job. Wait, what is her day job?

Sunday night was a pop culture triple-threat, there were the Billboard Music Awards, the triumphant end of my favorite show, Mad Men, and even more depressing than Don Draper’s soul, E’s About Bruce. Fortunately, I don’t sleep, my children do, and there were no watering holes seductively calling my name. I’m such an over-achiever, I watched them all.

The Billboard Music Awards, hosted by America’s most exotic mess, Chrissy Teigen, included Van Halen, Taylor Swift’s takeover of the world, Kayne West’s indecipherable message and the positive results of Britney Spears’ electric shock therapy.

Tay's little  brother Austin has to look away, Ed Sheeran can't avert his eyes: T. Swift is in lust.

Tay’s little brother Austin has to look away, Ed Sheeran can’t avert his eyes: T. Swift is in lust.

The world’s real queen, T.Swizzle, was perched on her thrown with her strong-jawed brother and her genetically blessed Scottish model-deejay-award-holder beau Calvin Harris. Is that sexual swagger I sense from Taylor’s new found strut? Who knew a white jumpsuit, shaggy bob and smoky eye could change so much?

It's been 10 years, is should leave Simpson alone.

It’s been 10 years, is should leave Simpson alone.

I want rock bands to succeed, but Fall Out Boy may be done. Long after Jessica Simpson’s insignificant little sister and Pete Wentz’s ex-wife, Ashley Simpson,  lip sang her way out of the charts, Wentz’s band is still on stage paying homage to Uma Thurman’s “Pulp Fiction” dance. Well, kids, shortly after Uma’s character Mia Wallace shimmied to Chuck Berry’s “C’est La Vie (You Never Can Tell)”, she began convulsing and frothing at the mouth in the midst of a heroin overdose, and that’s partially how I felt after watching FOB’s shaky performance.

I'm so bored, I almost started doing sit-ups.

I’m so bored, I almost started doing sit-ups.

Oh, if it isn’t John Legend and Megan Trainor, a match made in purgatory, a land of blandness, bad hair, boredom and a colossal waste of time. What was more humiliating for Legend: his wife’s hosting skills or this duet with Megan Trainor?

The show is improving, and Hozier must have hired a stylist. Amen, amen.

The show is improving, and Hozier must have hired a stylist. Amen, amen.

J.Lo, take a sabbatical.

J.Lo, take a sabbatical.

Jenny from the block’s love for an awards show is only trumped by her adoration for short and homely gigolos-turned back-up dancers-turned choreographers. J Lo, Casper’s facial hair can’t hide his obvious lack of everything. You poor bombshell, let me share some wisdom that my own mother shared with me at a young age, “let them miss you.” You don’t need to be at every awards show, scantily clad, delicately chomping on gum while your unattractive pool boy holds your hand. Please, let us miss you. I know that we will.

Minaj, you don't want to know where her hands have been.

Minaj, you don’t want to know where her hands have been.

I’m so dated that every Nicky Minaj song sounds the same to me, like a filthy track from an “Alvin and the Chipmunks” movie. But, Nicky does prove that feminism has come a long way baby, now the female singers also grab and fondle their genitalia while gyrating. Nicky, you go with your vaginal itchy bad self.

Can we all cease taking about Kelly Clarkson’s weight gain and start talking about her awful inspirational power ballads? Someone get her mother-in-law, Reba McEntire to write her an actual song that is not about her triumph over life’s challenges. Girl, you won American Idol when American Idol actually meant something, can you get a new hook?

Can you hear the boos or is that the sound of Kylie Jenner's rib breaking?

Can you hear the boos or is that the sound of Kylie Jenner’s rib breaking?

I believe that Kayne West closed the show with a heavily bleeped medley of “Black Skinhead” after being introduced by his two white, privileged and cosmetically enhanced model sister-in-laws.  Yawn, I wonder if Kayne wrote this song before or after his professor mother died after having cheap liposuction surgery? Oh Kayne, you make it too easy.

It was not all bad, Britney Spears looked glorious and displayed a taste of her old dance moves, David Lee Roth cherished the limelight, Molly Ringwald showed how aging can be conducted and Swift’s Bad Blood video reminded me how much I love a music video.Nick Jonas played guitar and Mariah Carey was competent and beautiful.

LAS VEGAS, NV - MAY 17:  Britney Spears  performs at the 2015 Billboard Music Awards on May 17, 2015 in Las Vegas, Nevada.  (Photo by Denise Truscello/Getty Images)

Britney Spears, I have nothing but love for you. (Photo by Denise Truscello/Getty Images)