And when I say I’m a Doctor Who fan, I mean I’ve only watched Doctor Who 2005 and on. (That didn’t stop me from dressing as the Fourth Doctor for Halloween.)
Bf=Eleventh Doctor; me= Fourth Doctor
My love for Doctor Who is what made me FREAK THE F OUT when I saw that my friend Jacqueline made her baby’s room all Doctor-themed.
I asked her a few questions about how she decorated the room, where she got the decor and what inspired her to do it.
P.S. Since I interviewed her, Jacqueline gave birth to a happy, healthy baby girl named Gwendolyn.
What inspired you to create a Doctor Who room?
Jacqueline: My husband and I got into the show a bit over 4 years ago and while he really likes the show, it kind of became an obsession of mine. When we talked about a nursery, it was easily agreed upon that it needed to be Doctor Who themed. The show is perfect for all ages (well, maybe a (more…)
We never met, but like many fans, I felt like I knew you.
It’s a funny concept, isn’t it? The idea that millions of people around the world feel close to you simply because your job is to act onscreen.
I often wonder what it must be like for celebrities. Humbling? Annoying? At first humbling, then annoying?
For us fans, it’s often the highlight of our weeks, months or years.
There were few famous people I wanted to meet in this world, but you were one of them. Something about you felt familiar. Maybe it was because you were Jewish, and I’m Jewish, and though neither one of us practiced, it felt like an important part of who we are.
Or maybe it was the way you presented yourself onscreen. Though you could act manic, there was a softness to you, betrayed by your bright blue eyes. You had the ability to look as though you were about to burst into tears or hysterically (more…)
I’m excited for the new Ghostbusters because there are four kick-ass women in it; what I’m not excited about is that they brought back the Ghostbusters. (I plan on seeing it at the theater nonetheless.) My conflicted emotions were only amplified when I read New York Times’ June 21st interview with the four lead actresses and director.
After director Paul Feig explained that he was courted by former Sony studio head Amy Pascal to direct the film because it was a “great franchise sitting there,” Times journalist Dave Itzkoff asked Feig: “Why are some people approaching these big-budget fantasy movies — like the new “Star Wars” or your film — as battlegrounds for social ideas?
FEIG: I think it’s the death throes of the old guard. It makes a smaller minority scream louder, because they’re losing their grip on the cliff. I understand, if somebody was remaking “The Godfather,” I would be like, “Wait a minute.” But when everybody’s like, “It’s a cash grab”? Everything ever made in Hollywood (more…)
You’ve seen many status updates from female friends you love and respect saying that when Hillary became the 2016 Democratic presidential nominee, they wept with joy. They couldn’t wait to tell their daughters, share it with their mothers, scream it from the mountaintops, talk about it for years to come.
You’ve seen all your favorite feminists and feminist publications reveling in this historic moment, sharing memes, writing beautifully crafted opinion pieces and also weeping for joy.
But you didn’t weep.
You didn’t even get excited.
You mostly felt conflicted.
And maybe you thought, “Wow. I must be the shiiiiitiest woman on the planet. We ladies have to stick together no matter what, right? I mean, two of my idols, Gloria Steinem and Madeleine Albright, told me I’m easily persuaded by men and I’m going to hell for not supporting Hillary Clinton.Something is wrong with me!”
This past week I grappled with this thought.
And as a progressive who will vote for Hillary in the general (more…)
I promised that I would only write one blog post about the presidential candidate I’m supporting, but I’m breaking that promise. Both Geoff and I are feeling the Bern, and we made Bernie Valentines for your viewing and sharing pleasure. We hope you enjoy!
I’ve never gotten political on my blog, but today I am.
This will most likely be the one and only time I post about a specific politician, unless this politician ends up winning the presidency. Then I might write a second post where I write IN CAPS AND EXCLAMATION POINTS AND HEARTS.
However, I’m feeling the Bern, as I believe Bernie Sanders is one of the most honest, hard-working and intelligent presidential candidates America’s had in a long time, and I want to share only just a few reasons as to why I’m voting for him.
3.) When asked about Islamphobia in America by a young Muslim woman, Bernie asked her to come down to the stage, hugged her and responded with “I will do everything I can to rid this country of the ugly stain of racism that has existed here for far too many years.”
Some of you may recall my previous adventures in edibles, where I feared my face was falling off AND my boyfriend was going to jump off our hotel room balcony. I vowed never to try edibles again. Except I did. And I lost my friggin’ mind again.
First, let me say this: Because marijuana is legalized in Colorado, it’s kind of not a big thing. People who don’t smoke or eat weed, smoke or eat weed. It’s like alcohol: easy to buy at stores, at parties, people over the age of 40 enjoy it.
And second, lemme say this: CURRENT AND FUTURE EMPLOYERS, I’M NOT A DRUG USER. COLORADO IS THE DEVIL. IT’S LIKE VEGAS, BUT MUCH PRETTIER.
Ok, so after my last episode, I was like, “Nope. No way. Never again. This is Satan’s bacon.”
But then I was snowshoeing in Breckenridge with my boyfriend and friend, and the friend was like, “Here, just eat 1/3 of this ONE gummy bear. You will be fine.”
And I thought, Sure. I’ll be fine. What the hell can happen on 1/3 of one gummy?
A recent editorial trend is the admonishment of women who apologize. This movement has spawned similar essays that disparage women for vocal fry (common example: any word that comes out of Zooey Deschanel’s mouth), upspeak, the use of words such as “like” and the act of verbally undermining oneself.
(I’m about to defend women who do any or all of these things, but let me first say: VOCAL FRY SOUNDS LIKE FLAPPY MOUTH FARTS. I’m not going to tell any woman how she should speak, but damn, if you do vocal fry, particularly with upspeak, please reconsider for the sake of healthy ears everywhere.)
To me, the articles mentioned above scream, “Women, stop being who you are! Start talking more like a man! Talk in a way that makes men respect you more!” It also suggests that women want to constantly climb their career ladder, with the implication they work in a corporate setting, and for many of us, this is not applicable.
I get where these articles, found in publications such as the (more…)
Back in February, I pulled a Maureen Dowd and completely lost my f’ing mind on (legal)edibles in Denver, Colorado. (I emphasize ‘legal’ for my current employers and any future employers. Hi, guys.)
Let me start by saying: I’m weed ignorant.
I believe this is how many stories begin when someone loses their shit on edibles.
“I didn’t feel anything so I started eating more…”
I guess when my boyfriend and I nervously bought the THC-filled cookies from a dispensary in the hip Highlands part of Denver, our knees shaking as we giggled like senior citizens who had just watched a porno for the first time, we must have missed the part about waiting an hour to feel the effects. We were too busy feeling like scared ass clowns.
Instead, about 30 minutes into eating the cookies, my boyfriend proclaimed that the skunky-tasting treats were defective, so we decided to go for a second one. And then a half of a third.
Lately I’ve been on a kick of reading non-fiction by female authors. I share this unextraordinary observation because for most of my life I’ve been a lousy lady supporter. I grew up idolizing male rock stars (I mean, who doesn’t want to be David Bowie?), I had more interest in male-driven cinema (like I had a lot of choice) and I romanticized being a Kerouac or Hemingway, drunk and bitter.
(Let it be said that I’ve been madly in love Stevie Nicks since I was 15 years old.)
I don’t know where my bro allegiance stemmed from, though I have theories that I was an old Jewish man in a former life. I guess I just couldn’t relate to a lot of famous ladies. The Madonnas and the Beyonces and the Gwen Stefanis and the Jennifer Anistons have been stripped of their womanhood; they’re now cartoon versions of themselves. They drip thousands of dollars worth of jewels and designer wear, detest being photographed in an imperfect state and they live a life that is totally unrecognizable to other human (more…)