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[about the author]

i actually like speaking in front of large crowds. freakish, eh?

i work crossword puzzles in ink.

i am the american nigella lawson. or maybe the american eddie izzard. can't decide, really.

i would be a really good mom, but i'm cool with being a really good aunt.

i am sometimes more perceptive than i would like to be.

i am fiercely loyal. sometimes, stupidly so.

i never play dumb. never.

i am way too hard on myself.

i am a change agent.

i sometimes cross that fine line between assertive and aggressive.

i am not afraid to tell people that i love them.

i am militantly pro-choice.

i am pro-adoption.

i know a little bit about alot of things.

i typically enjoy the company of men more than women.

i am capable of being really mean and nasty, but i fight it. hard.

i am a lifelong cubs fan. do not laugh.

i have been known to hold a grudge.

i have hips.

i am not my sister.

i am lousy at forgiving myself.

i am an indoor kind of gal.

i am a bargain shopper. to the point of obsession.

i am 32 flavors. and then some.

[the ones people ask about]
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Investment Banking Monkey
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Latest on Retirement Planning
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[in case you were wondering]

[the blogger behind the curtain]

[100 things about me]

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[all content copyright 2007 by tequila mockingbird. seriously.]


a moment of reflection
well, oscar has come and gone. and, so, a few observations:

note to jennifer lopez: i was thinking to myself, “man, i just don’t know of a worse idea in all the world than an asymmetrical caftan.” then you went and wore one that was seafoam green, thereby proving me wrong. then, when i was ready to say, “okay, okay…i can’t think of anything worse than a seafoam green asymmetrical caftan,” you went and smeared glittery seafoam green eyeshadow all over your creepily over-bronzed-liz-taylor-looking self! and i don’t mean liz-taylor-looking like cat on a hot tin roof. you know what i’m sayin’: caftan-wearing liz. that’s what i’m sayin’.

note to adrien brody: you go with your bad self! although with the floppy hair and the big-ass wide tie, you looked like some sort of emo phillips/matthew lesko freakish hybrid. which is unfortunate. but, you said “holy shit” when you won, and then you said “holy shit” again when roman polanski won, which scores you cool points with me, because i love a good cuss, especially when you slip it past the network censors. plus, you carped the diem and planted a big ol’ tongue kiss [now referred to by congress as a “freedom kiss”] on halle berry. and i have to give you a big “hell yeah” for that. i mean, this is your moment, right? go for it. i would have given halle a big ol’ tongue kiss myself. i mean, seriously…it’s halle berry. she's smokin' hot. i did think it was sad that no one tried to tongue kiss meryl streep, though. although i thought dustin hoffman was giving her a really creepy “hey baby” kind of look during that “here are people who won oscars once…not that you remember that” tribute. peter o'toole had the opportunity to plant one on meryl, but he didn't go for the tongue kiss. man. i bet meryl streep feels like a big loser.

note to kim basinger and marisa tomei: speaking of that “here are people who won oscars once” tribute thing, i noticed your inconspicuous absences. to which i say this: “you're not really trying to make me think that you, kim basinger and marisa tomei, were too busy to come to the academy awards, are you?!” dubious, ladies. dubious.

note to jennifer garner: i applaud your loyalty to your employer and how they probably said, “jennifer, we’re your employer, and we want you to do this really lame-o bit with mickey mouse who is not real and will only be an animated mickey mouse,” but, someone should have talked to you abou the whole rob lowe/snow white fiasco. still, though, you came through like the west virginia girl you are and were able to maintain some dignity by throwing down some mad phat french pronunciation skilz. not that that makes up for the mouse entirely.

note to all the chicks: way to wear some dresses that look like ass. nice job there. well done, you! jesus.

note to michael moore: dude, we know already. blah blah fictitious president blah. blah duct tape. we know. listen, you’re a guy who gets to go on tv all the time. you make movies. you even write books that people actually buy and shit. you don’t have enough bully pulpits at your disposal that you have to go and piss all over the academy awards, too? even susan sarandon had enough sense to shut her piehole and just introduce the "here are a bunch of people who died even though you only clap for the actors, you self-absorbed jackasses" montage. time and place, my friend...time and place. plus, the saddest part is that the band was playing all over your best line: “all i’m saying is that if the pope and the dixie chicks are against you, you really need to rethink your position.” that is pure gold. however, because you got up there and got your jackass on, nobody heard that. except me.

note to that totally hot guy from y tu mama tambien: call me.

note to salma hayek: what in the hell do you have to be so angry about? is it just me? does she not look like she’s getting ready to spit in your face, like, all the time? how can you have a rack like that and be pissed at the world?

note to sean connery: jerry seinfeld called. they need the puffy shirt back. muy pronto.

addendum to sean connery: when one of the nominees is named “catherine” and one is named “kathy” it is seriously uncool to simply say “the oscar goes to…catherine.” ‘cause, really, we’re believe you’re super cool with your whole "check me out, i'm on a first-name basis with all these famous people in hollywood, plus i'm james bond" thing. but, honesly, that was totally not cool. anybody who saw the look of confusion on kathy bates’ face knows: uncool. even if you are james bond and shit.

note to steve martin: call me.

note to jack nicholson and nicolas cage: how awesome was it, the way you guys looked genuinely happy for adrien brody when he won and you guys didn't? man…you guys are actors. seriously. i was totally buying it. of course, it could just be that both of you were drunk and/or stoned off your asses. hard to say, really.

note to pedro almodóvar: i love you so much, but i am totally not kidding when i say to you: dude, you look like a goat. a happy little goat. or maybe pan, that half-goat faun guy. you know, the one with the pipes? yeah, him.

note to diane lane: it's amazing how you just get more beautiful with age. but, although women say supportive shit like, “that’s awesome,” inside we all hate you for it. just so you know. plus there was that one movie where you got to make out with viggo mortensen. so, we hate you for that, too.

note to julia roberts: did someone spray paint your hair “blonde”? when will you learn that you should stop fucking with your hair and just wear it the way it was made? oh, and ps: everyone is over you.

roman freakin' polanski? damn. hope you did better in your office pool than i did in mine.
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