That Lambert is gay is hardly a surprise to anyone. He wears make up and nail polish, is photographed making out with guys, and he came out in Rolling Stone for good measure.

Yet it appears that his record label would like to keep his sexual orientation on the low-low, at least according to Out’s Editor-in-Chief, Aaron Hiklin. In Hiklin’s editor’s letter, he points out an interesting dichotomy: The American public’s tolerance of gays and lesbians has grown such that Lambert made it to second place in this very enormous, very national, very mainstream competition. And yet, his label has repeatedly refused to allow Lambert onto the cover of Out, only allowing it this time because it was a group shot, which also included a straight woman (Lauper). And, this is the best part, they insisted Out not make him look ‘too gay.’

I understand the label’s concerns. Whatever their own personal politics (which I don’t know), Lambert is their holy cash cow. They don’t want anything to impact the money he is putting in their pockets, and considering that signing him was a business decision, you can’t exactly blame them. Business is business.

But still: the cat isn’t exactly in the bag, guys. It’s out. It has told everyone who is listening it’s out. It’s wearing a big rainbow flag. It has done everything short of release a sex tape of it with Levi Johnston while wearing drag.

And maybe, just maybe, it’s okay.

“Going Rogue,” the new memoir by former Alaska governor and vice presidential hopeful, Sarah Palin, came out yesterday, and as a result she’s all over the news again today. She’s talking to Oprah and Barbara Walters, and news stations are rife with reports about the book and her future plans. And when I heard NPR reporters speculating as to whether she would run for president in 2012 this morning, I snapped.

What is it with the right glorifying these stupid and/or horrifyingly offensive women? Carrie Prejean? Sarah Palin? Anne Coulter? I just can’t take it.

I mean, sure, we know the right isn’t opposed to putting morons into positions of power–they got W into the presidency for eight years for gods sake, a proposition so terrifying I still shudder to think about it… Well, I guess Coulter isn’t an idiot, she’s just just insane and full of vitriol. But still.

I just don’t understand the party’s decision to prop up these mouthy idiots? Why do you think this is okay? More to the point, I guess, is why would you want to do this? Obviously I’m not a conservative, but why don’t you want to find a woman who is attractive AND smart AND conservative AND level-headed? Is it that she just doesn’t exist?

When I think of the Katie Couric/Sarah Palin interview from last year, the notion that this brainless woman could even be considered to be at the helm of our country actually scares the living crap out of me. But she’s got that mixture of outspoken, stalwart, stubborn hunger and self-righteousness that drips from Prejean and Coulter that, evidently, makes conservatives thrilled, and me cower in fear. Their utter conviction in their small-minded, oppressive agendas–be it gay bashing or just filling the airwaves with overtly malicious lies–is the stuff of my nightmares.

Obviously, the thing that is so simultaneously upsetting and drawing about these women is that they are, in fact, women. Pretty women. Somehow, one expects the fairer sex to be more balanced and compassionate than these power-hungry, climbing shrews.

So we watch, and give this legion of terrifying Tracy Flicks the power to infect. Because everything about them seems to fly in the face of feminism and the fight that our bra-burning forbears had to fight. But that’s the thing about feminism–it’s not about the right to go to work out of the home just like a man, it’s about the right to choose: to work OR be a stay at home mom (or both!), to vote OR not to vote, to use your voice to spread good or evil.

It just chaps my ass that we have so many role models for the latter.

In my months of cooking my way through recipe after recipe given to me by my friends and family when I got married, I have encountered many good and many bad dishes.

One of the good ones was a very quick and very foolproof recipe for the baker in the house. This will be perfect for a Thanksgiving themed breakfast/brunch, or as a ‘lighter’ dessert alternative to all the pies you are sure to encounter. Plus, it makes both the chocoholics and the pumpkin-lovers happy. Really, what more do you need?

If you are very, very industrious, you could actually scrape out a pumpkin for 30 ozs of real pumpkin innards and put together chocolate cake/muffin mix from scratch. But why bother? You’ve got enough going on with the holidays!

Chocolate Pumpkin Muffins

• 1 box chocolate cake mix (whatever type you prefer)
• 2 15 oz cans pumpkin

Combine cake mix and canned pumpkin in a bowl. Mix them well.

Grease muffin tins. Bake according to the time/temperature specified for muffins on your cake mix box.

Remove from oven. Let cool. Remove carefully from muffin tins. Serve with plenty of napkins, as the pumpkin in these guys can stain your fingers. Will be moist, pumpkin-y, and chocolate-y.

Tell everyone these were very difficult to make and that you had to slave for hours in the kitchen putting them together from scratch.

Not only do I sew, but I actually hand sew. I do a type of embroidery called “crewel work,” which basically hasn’t been popular since the Middle Ages. The appeal for me is that it’s much more freestyle than needlepoint, or counted cross stitch, or any of that other precise, mathematical and intimidating stuff.

The trouble is, since crewel isn’t very popular, there aren’t nearly the amount of kits for it as there are other type of sewing. And the ones that are still around are all flowers and Victorian ladies. Not exactly my fare.

Until. Until this awesome artist named Katherine Shaughnessy created The New Crewel, using the old crewel techniques, but putting them into new, hip, modern applications. Further, her book (the aforementioned New Crewel) gives you instructions and lots of cool patterns too, of which I am totally in love with.

My favorite thing to do of late is to use the patterns and make them as pillows for gifts for friends and family. I pick a color scheme and pattern that I think said giftee will like the best (I have been known to call and ask fishy questions like, “What color is your bedding?”). Traditionally crewel is done on white or cream colored twill fabric, but you can shake things up with any color twill (Shaughnessy sells fabric and yarn on her website).

When I’m done embroidering the front, I take the piece down to my local fabric store and find a funky pattern for the back. Shaughnessy has a pattern for making the pillow backing (you can sew that part by hand, but a sewing machine helps. A lot.) Then insert a pre-made pillow insert (I favor 14″ ones that I pick up at my nearest crafting-weirdo-filled Jo-Ann Fabrics).

The whole thing probably costs about $25 (mostly for the pillow insert and backing; the twill and yarn I get in bulk) and takes a couple of weeks (I like to sew while I watch TV), but produces a really special present that matches any wedding registry gift that would cost $100 more. People like them, and they’re pretty perfect for these lean times.

You can check out Shaughnessy’s stuff at her website: woolandhoop.com.

I am also, it seems, rather picky when it comes to what I think tastes good. Putting all those traits together, however, means that if I find a recipe that I can not screw up and deem tasty, you can bet it is a surefire winner.

One such recipe is my cousin Sarah’s “Pumpkin Gooey Buttercake,” a moist, yummy pumpkin cake that is fast, easy, and guaranteed to sing everyone off into their final food-coma, just in time for the post-Thanksgiving feast football game/nap. Enjoy.

Pumpkin Gooey Butter Cake

Cake:

• 1 box yellow cake mix
• 1 egg
• 8 Tbsp melted butter

Filling:

• 1 8 oz cream cheese
• 1 15 oz can of pumpkin
• 3 eggs
• 1 tsp vanilla
• 1 box powdered sugar
• 8 Tbsp melted butter
• 1 tsp nutmeg
• 1 tsp cinnamon

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Combine cake ingredients in bowl and mix. Pat mix onto the bottom of a greased 9″ x 13″ pan.

In bowl, beat cream cheese (softened in microwave) and pumpkin. Add eggs, vanilla and butter. Beat again. Add powdered sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg and mix well. Spread over cake batter.

Bake 40-50 minutes. Center should be gooey! Serve with whipped cream.

But before I had to even think about doing a search, this little news item showed up on my beloved Perez Hilton. It seems that one of the show’s numbers involved the voice of Lois, Alex Borstein, singing Lady Gaga’s Poker Face as though she were Marlee Matlin.

Now, not only am I a big Family Guy defender, but a HUGE supporter too. I absolutely love the show, and as such know that their stock and trade is making ruthless fun of anyone and everything. A right which I will defend to the death, and happen to think they do well enough so as to be viciously funny.

However, for me, this one went too far. My cousin is deaf. She is also beautiful, brilliant, and a lot of other things. But knowing how hard being deaf has made things for her — emotionally if nothing else — I have zero tolerance for jokes that trade in making fun of things like the “deaf accent.”

Fortunately, they saved their skin, though. Marlee Matlin herself came out on stage (obviously planned) and then started yelling at Alex, making fun of her, calling her fat and giving her the finger before flamboyantly storming off. It once again showed the accuracy of Seth MacFarlane’s (and the rest of The Family Guy crew’s) humor — that to get away with a joke like that, you have to turn the gun at yourself. I never should have doubted.

“These people weren’t my friends then, and they’re not my friends now,” she said proudly. “I clicked delete.”

But as much as I understood her decision, I couldn’t imagine defriending myself. I mean, obviously, you’re not really saying, “I want to be your friend” when you friend someone on Facebook. In fact, what you’re probably saying is, “I would like to be a social contact” or “I would like to network with you” or even, “I admit that we both enjoy looking at each others’ photos to see if either of has developed thunder thighs.”

As of now, there are people that I’m “friends” with that post pictures of themselves hunting or post Bible verses, as well as all sorts of other things that I’m distinctly not into. I figure, live and let live. And while you’re at it, entertain me with what I think is your nuttiness.

But then I discovered, that like my friend, I too have my breaking point. A former high school classmate, one I actually sort of liked, started making some insensitive gay jokes and all sense of humor drained out of me. Like a reflex, my finger found the keyboard well before my brain caught up. Bing! Defriended.

A couple of months later, another “friend” spent two solid days posting provocative stuff about Ted Kennedy every 30 minutes when he died. Jerky move? Sure. At a volume that indicated possible mental instability? Yes. Reason to defriend? And miss all the fun? No way! Until, of course, the “homo” jokes came out. Bing! Deleted.

While I’m not gay, some of my friends are. It’s bad enough I live in a state that voted down equal marriage rights, but I don’t need to tolerate people abusing others with this kind of casual ignorance. In the end, while I can be pretty tolerant of most wing-nuttery, it turns out that there is one thing I just can’t stomach: prejudice.

A week ago, the Gosselins were heading back to court to dicker over the details of Jon’s stealing money from the family bank account. But the balding one has managed to distract us from his financial misdoings, first with rumors of a new show with Octomom Nadya Suleman, and then by linking up with star-effing Rabbi Shmuley Boteach and threatening to fall on his sword–and every other sword anyone gets near him.

Whether Gosselin was or wasn’t actually in talks to do a show with Suleman is up for debate, but his new BFF-ship with Boteach is for sure. And in a weird way, makes sense. Like Gosselin, Boteach has a serious hard-on for celebrity–his own and others, being one of Oprah’s favorite go-to-Jews and having advised Michael Jackson for a time. Of course, since Jackson died of an overdose and Boteach eventually revealed the tapes of their conversations, we know he’s both good at what he does and of unimpeachable moral character.

Plus, Gosselin is a sucker for religion–after all, the sextuplet situation was a result of his and Kate’s Christian faith dictating that they couldn’t/wouldn’t perform a selective reduction once they found out that six embryos had taken, due to fertility treatments. AND, Boteach’s boring show in which he tried to give his crappy advice to people, Shalom in the Home, was carried by TLC. So not only does he get to piss Kate off by being Jewish, he gets to make TLC happy. Perfection!

Now under the guidance of his new spiritual adviser, Gosselin is going around telling everyone who will listen that he is sorry, celebrity got to him, he lost control of his moral compass, but, you know, it’s back now. In a public discussion with Rabbi Boteach for the convenient price of $25/ticket, you could hear Jon say that he would like to apologize to Kate in private.

You know, I never say there is nothing to make a private apology seem completely heartfelt like holding a news conference about how you want to do it beforehand. Either that or you could skip that part all together, pick up your phone, call your wife and say, “Kate, I’m so sorry, I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I just wanted to say I’ve been an enormous douchebag.” That might work too.

Hey Jon, on behalf of my people and Israel, let me say this: enough people hate us already, we don’t need you making it worse.

So for those whom we loved and were taken too soon, who do we think will top the list?

5. Michael Jackson

For better or for worse, MJ was the undeniable king of pop.

Costume features: One glove, sparkly clothes, hat, moonwalk.

4. Farrah Fawcett

One of the most indelible images of beauty in all of American culture.

Costume features: Feathered Farrah wig, fun ’70s clothes and/or a bathing suit if you are very brave.

3. Patrick Swayze

Will any of us ever get over sexy Johnny Castle? No, no we won’t.

Costume features: Tight black pants, no shirt, cut abs, dreamy eyes, a love that knows no bounds, and some serious classical dance moves.

2. Bea Arthur

Oh Dorothy, your wry-one liners will be missed.

Costume features: Gray wig, shoulder pads, big earrings, a deep voice, and a cavalcade of snappy come backs.

1. Billy Mays

Was there ever a salesman better known and more revered?

Costume features: Button-down shirt, black beard, big smile.

5. The Obamas

The president and his missus are always a favorite. Also, perfect for the politically minded Halloween couple.

Props: Michelle’s arms, Barack’s ears, and Bo the dog. Also, you could just clothe yourself in hope.

4. Sarah Palin

The crazy rogue former Alaska governor, and would be VP, just loves being in the spotlight, even as your costume. Just don’t joke about her kids or she’ll shoot you from a helicopter.

Props: Glasses, suit, up-do. Also: shotgun, dead moose, brain-dead husband, pregnant teenage children, and an angry John McCain trying (and failing) to order you around.

3. Rod Blagojevich

Colorful, fallen Illinois governor who flamed out on TV after denying he tried to sell Barack Obama’s senate seat. As if you didn’t know.

Props: Giant hair wig, copy of his new memoir, and a penchant for yelling things like, “I’ve got this thing and it’s f—ing golden” and “I was framed.” Oh, and singing Elvis songs.

2. Mark Sanford

South Carolina governor who made news earlier this year when he went missing for several days and his team claimed he was “hiking the Appalachian trail,” which we later found out is southern for “porking your Argentinian mistress.”

Props: A suit, a backpack, hiking boots, a map of the Appalachian trail, and plane tickets to Argentina. Also, an embattled, plastic-faced political wife.

1. Joe Wilson

South Carolina republican rep who was chagrined after heckling President Obama’s address to Congress, town-hall-style.

Props: Just alternate between screaming, “You lie!” and “I’m sorry!” Oh, and your congressional health plan insurance card, which you clutch in a loving embrace.

(Photo By: Jen Groverand Nancy Stone)

15. Dracula

(Dracula: Dead and Loving It)

Leslie Nielsen as Mel Brooks’s idea of Dracula? Yes.

14. Eric Northman

(True Blood)

Perez Hilton thinks the vampire sheriff portrayal by Alexander Skarsgard is the hottest Swede around, so do we too!

13. Dracula (again)

(Dracula, 1992)

Bram Stoker was the original vampire story-writer — oh, the sexually repressed Gothic novel!) — most recently brought to the silver screen in the incarnation of Gary Oldman in 1992s Dracula.

12. Count Orlok

(Nosferatu)

German expressionist horror film rip off of Dracula! Hooray! The vampire is actually Count Orlok (who was played by Max Shreck, in case you care); ‘Nosferatu’ is what they call vampires. But whatevs.

11. Count Chocula

Chocolaty vampire cereal? What’s not to like?

10. Lestat

(Interview With a Vampire)

Tom Cruise in lacy sleeves is almost as much fun as Tom Cruise jumping on couches. Almost.

9. Stefan Salvatore

(The Vampire Diaries)

What the hell is this? I am old enough to menstruate, so I don’t watch this crap. But I guess some people do, and he’s hot. So there you go.

8. David

(The Lost Boys)

Keifer Sutherland is the scariest coastal California vampire of them all. This is how we kicked it in my day, yo.

7. Selene

(Underworld)

Go women! Kate Beckinsale looks pretty bad ass in that leather.

6. Count von Count

(Sesame Street)

Puppets are vampires, too. Plus, you got to start the kids young on their bloodsucking mythology these days.

5. Peter Loew

(Vampire’s Kiss)

Nicolas Cage, back when he was weird in a good way, playing a publishing exec who is sure he’s turning into a vamp. Kitsch x 1000.

4. Count Dracula

(Dracula, 1931)

Is there any more quintessential vampire than Bela Lugosi? I mean, seriously.

3. Blade

(Blade)

Oh Wesley Snipes, if vampires (or half-vampires) can be color blind, why can’t we?

2. Mark Kendall

(Once Bitten)

Early Jim Carrey as a teenage virgin being mined for blood by a sexy Lauren Hutton. Well, this one is just really fun.

1. Edward Cullen

(Twilight)

Oh, like there was ever a doubt Robert Pattinson would be number one. Go team Edward!

And then some months went by and…not much. Well, that’s not entirely true. There’s the health care debate and the peace prize and movement on things like Guantanamo and what all. But as far as the issue of gay rights was concerned: crickets.

While I am not gay, I have many friends who are. And to me, that our nation treats them in any way as second class citizens is a tremendous shame, to say the least. For whatever reason, this is one of the main touchstones of political debates that gets me the most fired up. Perhaps because for me there is a very clear face to this discrimination, and it simply breaks my heart.

When it was still a race between Obama and Hillary, I quickly noticed that most of my gay friends were undisputed Clintonites. I asked why, and they cited Hillary’s ample track record of supporting the gay community. ‘Oh, come on, have some faith! Obama is a democrat, and more importantly a reasonable human being. He’ll support you,’ I said. They weren’t so sure.

And as the months droned on, I began to worry. As some people said, Why hadn’t he started in on ending Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell? What could be the reason he is waiting on dealing with that? I hoped there was a good reason.

Earlier this month, Jon Stewart called Obama out on The Daily Show on this very matter. Stewart said in a bigger form what I–and I’m sure so many others–was thinking: ‘It’s time to make good on these campaign promises.”

Days later in an address to the gay rights advocacy group the Human Rights Campaign, President Obama reaffirmed that he would end Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. He has yet to give a time line. Like many, I put my faith Obama’s promises of hope and change. Who wouldn’t want to? And I for one am hoping to see this change come very, very soon.

10. The Beatles

Namely, Paul McCartney (aka ‘the cute one’). For some reason, back in the ’50s and ’60s, it seems the girls were more apt to swoon over musicians than movie stars, although that’s probably just splitting hairs. (See also Elvis and Ricky Nelson).

9. Kirk Cameron

Oh Kirk, you were the dreamiest as Mike Seaver on Growing Pains. Until you found Jesus and went completely off the reservation. Shame.

8. Scott Baio

Joanie may have loved Chachi, but I was way more into him as Charles in Charge. I really did wish he was in charge of me. So did every actress in Hollywood and an assortment of Playboy playmates, evidently, but still the point stands.

7. Johnny Depp

Oh, sweet Johnny, you were so hunky in those early 21 Jump Street days, with your part-Cherokee ancestry and your bad boy ways. It’s nice that you hung around to become a pretty fearsome character actor, too. (See also Leonardo DiCaprio).

6. The Coreys

Was there a single movie in the ’80s that didn’t have either Corey Feldman or Corey Haim in it? If not both? Sadly, these guys were the classic case of early fame sending them nutballs, but it was fun while it lasted. Stay off the juice, boys.

5. Christian Slater

With his young Jack Nicholson impression and his sexy sneer, Mr. Slater was one for the alterna-chicks before they were a type. And this isn’t just because Heathers was named after me. Okay, maybe a little.

4. Tom Cruise

Back in the day, Mr. Scientology was just a young slab of beefcake turning heads in Risky Business and Top Gun. I would argue he was a little bit of a manly crush for the teen heartthrob set, but what can you do? The heart wants what it wants. (See also John Stamos, aka the oh so sexy uncle Jesse on Full House).

3. David Cassidy and Leif Garrett
(tie)

Did you have red hair, sing disco, and wear bell bottoms in the ’70s? Then I guess you were HOT. These guys were just a bit before my time, but still, there may be no two people more synonymous with teen heartthrob status than the great Cassidy and Garrett.

2. Mark-Paul Gosselaar and Mario Lopez (tie)

Ah, Zack Morris and A.C. Slater, the veritable pinnacle of squeaky clean teen lust. Those Saved by the Bell days were the best.

1. Jason Priestley and Luke Perry (tie)

You can’t honestly expect me to choose between Brandon and Dylan, can you? No I don’t think you can. Beverly Hills, 90210, you were the best.

The Beatles

Thank Rock Band for making this classic contemporary again. You can be John, Paul, Ringo or George, or get three friends and be the whole band.

Props: Mop-top hair wigs, instruments.

Extra credit: If you have Beatles Rock band and play it in costume at the party you are hosting.

Amy Winehouse

She may have been pulling her crazy drunken/drugged out mess routine for a while now, but it’s no less fun.

Props: Ginormous bouffant wig, blacked out teeth from hitting the pipe, ballet flats, smeared heavy cat-eye make up, track marks.

Extra credit: If you can vomit on yourself.

Kanye West

He got real close to not making the cut, but then the VMAs happened. I love his music, but good lord, what self-control synapse misfires in this guy’s brain?

Props: Sunglasses, bling, a seriously bad attitude, Beyonce’s latest album clutched to your heart, and a young blond woman whose night you can ruin by interrupting her constantly.

Extra credit: Going the extra mile and wearing a marching band uniform.

Britney Spears

I know she’s ‘cleaned herself up,’ but who are we kidding? Hey, I said I liked hot messes.

Props: Weird, pornographic circus outfits; a dazed look on your face; chewing gum; hillbilly accent; two small children that you periodically endanger.

Extra credit: For shaving your head.

Lady Gaga

This one is just insane.

Props: A plastic bathtub, fishnet stockings, a monocle, a whip, and no pants. Or: anything else insane from your house that you can pass off as ‘haute couteur’. But definitely no pants.

Extra credit: If you can actually dance in whatever GaGa-outfit you are wearing.

Rihanna

For the envelope-pushers in the group.

Props: Short-hair-long-bangs wig, neck tattoos, black eyes. Yup, I went there.

Extra credit: If you call to cancel because of a ‘problem at home’.

I can’t say I ever thought he’d find his balls, but when he did, it appears he lost his mind. It’s clear Gosselin got into his position in the first place because he isn’t someone capable of making really healthy, adult decisions. So now that he’s trying to reclaim himself, which is a good thing, he’s doing it in the grossest, most immature, and scummiest manner ever – i.e., porking everything that looks at him, making sure every fart of his is on TV, stealing his wife’s/family’s money, suddenly deciding to pull the plug on the show for the good of his kids the second the network changed the focus off him and onto Kate, etc., etc., etc. The list really goes on and on.

In short, he is the quintessential kid who says, ‘You don’t like me? Then I’m going to take my ball and go home!’

I wish for them and their army of kids that they could get their crap together, but truthfully I can admit that I adore watching the drama. Thus I was thrilled today to see that TLC (the network that airs Jon & Kate + 8) is suing Jon Gosselin for breach of contract. The lawsuit, which does not include estranged wife Kate Gosselin, alleges that he has been violating the terms of his contract, which names him an exclusive employee of the network, by appearing on other networks for pay and disclosing information about the show.

Time to pay the piper, my boy.

Unfortunately it seems things weren’t as ideal in the Seaver family as we viewers were led to believe. It seems that mid-show, at the age of 17, he found Jesus, became an evangelical Christian, and promptly dropped off the radar. Whether his decline from the public eye was because his new faith led him to want to devote himself to a “higher calling” or because he became a royal pain in the ass to work with (insisting anything ‘too racy’ be stripped from his already uber-G-rated Growing Pains episodes, for example) I don’t know.

What I do know is that all these years later he’s back, befouling the air waves again. In the intervening years, Cameron has been busy making crappy apocalypse-themed movies and partnering up with Ray Comfort of the Living Waters, a lovely organization that does such helpful things as oppress homosexuals and other spiritual pursuits. And now, in anticipation of Darwin Day next month (the 50th anniversary of the publication of Charles Darwin’s Origin of Species), he and old Ray are on a crusade to distribute altered copies of the text.

Actually, they claim that Darwin’s text will be un-mucked-with, but they will be including a marvelous 50-page introduction that they hope will refute the theory of evolution, including such illuminating points as how Hitler was linked to it, how Darwin was a a misogynist racist, and obviously how in general creationism is where it’s at.

Oh Kirk, I defend your right to do stupid crap like this, but all I can say is I liked you better when no one had heard about you for a decade.

Early on in my Facebook usage, I grappled with the main issue: To friend people from high school or not to?

Like many people, I did not much enjoy high school. And like many people, I gladly left most of those high school people behind. There were my best friends then – still some of my best friends today – but the rest, some friends, but many not, I was more than happy to leave to the sands of time.

That said, it doesn’t mean I’m not as curious as the next person as to what happened to those people with whom I’d fallen out of touch. Especially if my curiosity will be paid off by finding out that the football jock I hated has become fat/bald/insert embarrassing thing here.

Now, as you surely know, unlike Myspace (at least the profiles people don’t jack up the security on) the main trouble with Facebook is that you can’t find out if those disliked relics of the past have become fat/bald/whatever unless you friend them, i.e., admit that you, in whatever sense of the word, want to be their friend. Sure, you can bop around on a friend’s account from time to time and see what you can see, but it’s just not the same.

I thought about it, and decided I would suck it up. I can say to Person Who Never Acknowledged Me But Probably Didn’t Dislike Me As Much As I Imagined that ‘Yes, I do want to be your friend,’ whatever that means. I told myself this was because I was older, wiser, kinder, and more comfortable with myself, but let’s be honest: I just wanted to see if they’d had 14 ugly kids and then not lost the weight – fingers crossed!

Unfortunately, this approach is not without its pitfalls. Sure, I have been rewarded with the delightful discovery that indeed several people look terrible and the concurrent realization that I am aging quite well (Thank God!). But the way Facebook works, you don’t just get the satisfaction of sating your curiosity and then forgetting about them again. They keep updating their damn profiles. And as much as I am happy for them to see my daily updates of how magnificent I’m doing, I don’t want theirs.

And I know, I know. There is some fancy way to rig it so that you only get the news feeds from the people you like. But what if I miss something juicy? Curiosity, cat, well, we know how I’m going to wind up.

10. The Monkees

A be-mop-topped ’60s-era Beatles take off that pioneered the boy band movement with TV.

Notable members: All of ‘em! Micky Dolenz, Davy Jones, Peter Tork and Mike Nesmith.

Notable songs: The Monkees, Last Train to Clarksville, Daydream Believer, I’m a Believer.

9. The Jackson 5

Motown? Boy band? Both.

Notable members: Michael Jackson back when he was really cute.

Notable songs: ABC, I Want You Back, I’ll Be There, Rockin’ Robin.

8. Hanson

Squeaky, squeaky, squeaky clean. See also: The Osmonds.

Notable members: Is any one of these three brothers more notable than the others?

Notable songs: That infernal MMMBop.

7. Menudo

Hilarious Puerto Rican boy band or Mexican soup made with tripe. Hmmm…

Notable members: Ricky Martin!

Notable songs: I can’t remember a damn song they did, I just remember they were popular.

6. New Kids on the Block

Was there anyone in the late ’80s/early ’90s who wouldn’t die for them? Honestly. You can admit it.

Notable members: Jordan, Joey, Donnie… sigh.

Notable songs: You Got It (The Right Stuff), Please Don’t Go Girl, Hangin’ Tough, Step by Step

5. Take That

Boy band, ’90s Brit style.

Notable members: Robbie Williams.

Notable songs: How Deep is Your Love, Back for Good.

4. Boys II Men

Are we sure crooning seductively about how they will make love to you is a good idea when their target audience was 15? No we are not.

Notable members: None. Well, at least no one who went on to have a solo career that I know about.

Notable songs: End of the Road, I’ll Make Love to You, On Bended Knee.

3. New Edition

The soul answer to the Boston boy band explosion. Someone had to give NKTOB a run for their money.

Notable members: Bobby Brown.

Notable songs: Candy Girl, Mr. Telephone Man, and later, when some of them reformed as Bel Biv DeVoe, Poison.

2. Backstreet Boys

Most famous in my head because Howard Stern did a parody of one of their songs that he played a lot.

Notable members: Nick Carter, AJ McLean.

Notable songs: Everybody (Backstreet’s Back).

1. ‘N Sync

Honestly, is there any name more synonymous with ‘boy band’? And yet I only know one of their songs. Odd.

Notable members: Justin Timberlake, JC Chasez, Lance Bass, Joey Fatone.

Notable songs: Bye Bye Bye.

I showed up at their apartment looking green and informed them I would be gracing their bathroom with my presence for God knows how long and we would probably not be making it to the movie. ‘Unless you have something. Pepto Bismol? Perhaps some coal?’ I added.

They excitedly informed me they had some magic tea, which didn’t instill the most confidence in me. I’m not exactly a homeopathic sort of chick. But beggars/choosers and all that, what else was there to do? I tried the tea.

And God dammit they were right. Within minutes I was feeling better. So much so that we made it to the movie. It was a minor miracle.

The mysterious tea in question is Celestial Seasonings Tummy Mint Tea and it is nothing short of amazing. Although it’s a mixture of peppermint, fennel and chamomile, it mostly just tastes minty. But more importantly, it works. I don’t know how, I don’t know why. But if you are nauseated or have a stomach ache, this stuff is like tasty magic relief in a cup.

In fact, I am such a convert that my cabinet is never without Tummy Mint Tea. My husband begs for it when he has a migraine. I tote it around in giant mugs when I’m sick. I even travel with it.

The thing is – Tummy Mint Tea can be hard to find. Even though it is Celestial Seasonings, far from just any grocery store has it. In fact, I live in LA and regularly have to go on an odyssey to find it–usually at a health food store or Whole Foods. So when I do find it, I buy up the entire shelf.

Trust me, you should, too. Herbal tea. Who knew?

It seems the pro-lifers are trying to get an initiative on the table to change the California state constitution to say that life officially starts at the time of conception, so crimes committed against a pregnant woman are actually also crimes committed against the fetus. This sounds harmless enough until you realize that this is just a back door way to lay the groundwork to curtail the right to choice.

Sponsored by anti-abortion activist Pastor Walter Hoye, this ‘personhood initiative’ is in the early stages of getting onto the ballot for the 2010 California gubernatorial elections in which we will elect a replacement for Schwarzenegger. According to opponents, the ramifications of this amendment would not just curtail abortion rights, but would stretch as far as prohibiting birth control.

I am not amused.

A similar personhood initiative was voted down by a large margin in Colorado last year – thank God -  but with our recent voting record here, I’m already concerned. California was supposed to be the land of the fruits and nuts, where they hand out solar panels and pot prescriptions at the border. But in light of our recent, shameful ban on gay marriage, I’m not so confident in my golden state.

I’m saying it now and I’m saying it early: Vote NO.

The whole point is, well, obviously photos of guys with inconvenient and often embarrassing erections. And my 15-year-old self absolutely loves it. What happens is someone – usually a stranger – snaps a photo of some guy sporting some inappropriate wood and sends it in (with credit given to the amusing, boner-themed anonymous username of their choice). Then readers vote on said boner on a scale of awkward versus understandable.

Recently there’s been a spate of young, drunk guy photos/photos of guys who probably know their picture is being taken. Those aren’t very exciting to me. But the stealth photos – of nasty old men crammed into polyester pants riding the subway, inappropriate sports-boners, and the like – now those are a delightful way to perk up your work day.

Of course, nothing about this website is attractive, it is purely juvenile entertainment at others’ expense. But who cares? Men are so in love their their junk as it is, we may as well have a laugh. Hey, I added it to my Google Reader feed.

NSFW, obviously.

(Pic courtesy of Nataliedee.com)

As a former Chicagoan, I was very interested to see exactly how batshit Blago was going to come off. Not only did I vote for him, but I remember a praise-singing conversation I had with my husband after he stood up for stem cell research in the wake of a particularly bloody battle. I lamented the shame that a ballsy Democrat such as he couldn’t be in the running for national office (not that I don’t love Obama, don’t get me wrong). We decided he was a good solid politician, but just not charismatic enough for national office.

Apparently we were also insane that day. Although, in my defense, it’s been years since I’ve lived in Chicago, so perhaps he was busy doing various red-flag-raising stunts in the interim years that made his ultimate, and ridiculously colorful demise less shocking to those in the know.

Regardless, when the senate seat selling scandal broke I was pretty stunned and horrified. Then to see him flame out so flamboyantly and insanely – insisting against all semblance of reality that the fix was in and he was innocent – oh my.

That Blago went on The Daily Show — given the profuse amounts of jokes for which he was the gleeful butt over the year — would have been surprising were his reserves of deranged narcissism not quite so bottomless. I couldn’t wait to see the war that would erupt.  After a couple of harmless hair jokes, Jon Stewart showed the applause-worthy chutzpah to tell it like it is — that the tapes make it pretty clear Blago is guilty and he has to be insane to think otherwise.

But then Blago surprised me. Not only has he concocted a somewhat plausible excuse — that the next thing he said after ‘I’ve got this thing and it’s f-ing golden’ were along the lines of ‘and if you don’t think I’m going to leverage it for health care and jobs for the good people of Illinois, then you’ve got another thing coming’ — but I actually almost believe him. He claims that the tapes, when played in full, will exonerate him (they can’t be played in full for legal reasons), and is begging for his accusers to allow them to be played.

Do I think he’s telling the truth? No, I don’t. I think that if he gets the tapes played and they further incriminate him, he’ll claim parts were missing. Or he’ll concoct another story, then another. But there is a part of me, a little shred, that wishes he were.

I am not the likeliest candidate for marriage. I didn’t exactly have the cutest and fluffiest of childhoods that I was eager to replicate with my own version of marital bliss. I wasn’t the popular chick in high school who could easily envision man after man competing for the honor of getting to spend eternity with me.

In fact, most of my ‘relationships’ never lasted longer than a couple of weeks – if that. They were few, they were far between, and they were without fail completely heartbreaking. I was always Bridget Jones, single when no one else was. Always the second choice. It was pretty miserable.

And yet, here I am. Married quite happily for just over three years to possibly the nicest guy in the world. Oh, and he’s smart and cute, too.

Today he happens to be away on business, which is a rarity. As a general rule, his preference is to spend every waking minute with me. So much so that at this point I think must seem more like two (adorably, natch) bickering heads stuck on the same body than two separate people to our blissfully forgiving friends.

Josh and I met in late 2001. I had just gotten a contract to write a guidebook on Boston and an acquaintance offered to put me in touch with a city planner she knew–good for advice on that sort of thing.

A mutual friend had met Josh once before, so she tipped me off that he was cute. And when I met him in person for the first time, she was proven correct. Check mark one in a very important box.

We made plans to get together for some advice on my book, but by then I already knew I was interested. When lunch was over, we kept talking, and talking, and talking. At the end of the ‘date’, almost 10 hours later, I called our mutual friend. ‘How was it?’ she asked me. ‘Well, there’s nothing wrong with him,’ I replied. Enthusiastically. Very enthusiastically.

Of course, things weren’t all completely that smooth. There were bumps – ex-girlfriend bumps, is this the right thing? bumps, should we move in together? bumps. But in the end it really came down to what I said to Kristin and what I knew about Josh after that very first date – I couldn’t find a damn thing to complain about. And with me that’s a pretty significant thing.

There’s always something wrong with people, that’s a given. The question is: which problems are deal breakers and which ones are just peccadilloes?

The more I got to know Josh, I never saw any deal breakers. What I did see was an unequivocal catch–handsome, sweet, smart, upstanding, silly, and he liked me. And when it came down to it, after a lifetime of only ever being attracted to assholes, when I found myself interested in a nice guy, I wasn’t dumb enough to let him go. So I didn’t.

5. House.

Truthfully, I don’t care too much about the season by season arc of this one. Will House and Cuddy get together? I don’t give a hoot. But the weekly hour of medical whodunnit punctuated with snarky rejoinders? Yes please.

4. Family Guy.

Top cult show: Family Guy…Simply one of the smartest, funniest, ballsiest shows on television. I only ‘discovered’ it last year and then spent several months glutting myself on a zillion seasons of reruns. They deserve the Emmy and everything else they want.

3. Lost.

Okay, this doesn’t come back until 2010, but it’s the final season! My mind is ready to be blown.

2. 30 Rock.

I originally started watching this one to keep up with the water cooler talk at my old office, but was quickly hooked. So funny I usually wind up watching it twice–and catching new things the second time around. This year I’ll be watching in my Liz Lemon-inspired snuggy.

1. The Office.

Pam is pregnant! Eeeee!!!!!!!

What Stewie & Brian have to say about the Emmy nominations

Until I saw the first new episode, that is. In the two-hour special season premiere, our dear Dr. House spends time in the loony bin trying to kick the drugs, get to the bottom of his problems, and you know, generally be House-ish and get out without having to do either of the aforementioned things.

In theory, this is a perfectly lovely way to kick off season 6. In practice, however, it was rife with problems. For starters, they opened with a montage of House kicking Vicodin. Sure, a montage is a nice, efficient way of getting through the withdrawal section, but really as an opener? Not even a hot open where you can splash the opening credits up after it, mind you, but just the regular beginning where it just stops and then segues into normal scenes. And then they set it against Radiohead’s “No Surprises,” a wonderful, but distinctly non-opening type of song. Oy.

Much worse, though, were the factual inaccuracies in the show. Having worked–even for a short period of time–at a psychiatric hospital, I wasn’t even through said problematic opening montage before I turned into that annoying person who points out how things you’re watching aren’t consistent with reality. You know, like the guitarist who goes, ‘He’s not really playing’ and then sniggers haughtily when you’re watching Brat Pitt pretend to be Yngwie Malmsteen in a biopic? Yeah, that was me watching the House season premiere.

They wouldn’t let him detox cold turkey without any meds to make him less uncomfortable/not die from detoxing! No health insurance would pay for that person to be on a locked, in-patient ward! They do not put you in “solitary” as punishment! They only put you there if you’re not safe so they can keep you on 1:1 observation! No woman staff member not completely insane herself would dress like that (Earrings? Patients rip them out if they attack you/need to be restrained. Leotard? Other crazy patients get too riled up by them, even if it IS a talent show.). My husband was not amused.

Sure, things are different at different hospitals, the one I worked at doesn’t set the rules for the universe, but it’s not like House would be at some ghetto asylum. And even so, that doesn’t explain away the saccharine platitudes and morals we were supposed to learn (Yes, that music box DIG make her better. Absolutely).

The whole experience has left me wondering: Is this what it’s like for doctors when they watch House? As a non-medical professional, I usually get to enjoy the show in pleasantly ignorant bliss. But I think my bubble may have just been burst.