Just a friendly “hello” to those of you who found my website by googling “things people do with other people’s poop” and “people pooping on other people”.

Unfortunately, there appears to have been a slight misunderstanding. The article on my site that contained the keyword “poop” was actually about DOG poop. So if scooping dog poop is your thing…well then, have at it.

If not, kindly step away from my very cool, not-at-all-pervy, website.

Thank you.

It’s official…Star Wars legos have now been replaced by Indiana Jones in our household - even though my kids have yet to lay their eyes on an Indiana Jones movie (another example of brilliant marketing). Because my husband and I are quite principled (not), we decided that before we spent anymore of our hard-earned money on Indiana Jones legos, action figures and whip (yes, my 4 year-old wants his whip), the boys HAD to watch at least one of his movies. So this weekend, we hunkered down with Raiders of the Lost Ark and a big tub of popcorn.

The movie was as good as I remembered. And as I watched Indiana’s love interest Marion (played by Karen Allen) drink some burly guy under the table in her dive bar and not ten minutes later hold her own in a gunfight while guzzling booze that leaked from a bullet hole in the barrel
(a girl after my own heart), it hit me. She’s SO a Cool Broad! She’s spirited, independent, strong, not afraid to go after what she wants, and yet still manages to look cute in the process (wearing a pair of men’s trousers cinched high at her waist, a tattered shirt, and cool scarf no less).

But then, halfway into the movie, Marion was inexplicably put in a fluffy, white evening gown in the middle of the desert. And if that wasn’t enough, as she and Indiana traveled on a shipping barge to deliver the lost ark to the museum, the only thing she could find to wear was a silk negligee. On a barge? Huh?

Then I remembered that this was a George Lucas flick and he was the guy who put another iconic Cool Broad, Princess Leia, in a bikini with a chain around her neck in Return of the Jedi. I guess that’s one of the perks of being a famous moviemaker…you get to live out your boyhood fantasies on the big screen. I get it.

And though I’m not sure that it added much to the movie for Marion to go from this…

to this…

or that it moved the story line forward for Princess Leia to go from this…

to this…

I know that you can’t keep a Cool Broad down for long (bikinis, chains and boyhood fantasies notwithstanding).

And if I’m completely honest with myself, I’d have to admit that if given the chance to be Marion (fluffy white dress and all) in this picture…

…I would. So there.

~tcb

For me, one of the more inconvenient side effects of pregnancy was the fact that I came out with fewer brain cells than before I went in. And it seems like the majority of lost cells came from two specific parts of my brain; the “match word to item” part and the “don’t wear that, it’s ugly” part.

Unfortunately, I don’t think there’s anything I can do about the fact that I told my kid to grab the umbrella out of the fridge this morning (what I meant was that long stick of yellow stuff you smear on toast). But I did find something to help me dust off my sense of style and become fabulous again.

My saving grace was The Lucky Shopping Manual by Kim France and Andrea Linett. Written by the gals over at Lucky Magazine (which is one of my favorite “fashion” magazines…when they’re not trying to jumpstart some weird fashion trend themselves), the Manual is similar to its magazine cousin in that it’s instructional. Unlike the magazine, however, there isn’t anything in the book that you can explicitly buy. The authors wrote the book to help us make great outfits with the things we already own (clarification: the things we own that aren’t tragic) and to help us when we need to add to our wardrobe and go shopping (yay! - no more dressing room panic attacks at Nordstrom).

The book is chock full of helpful style tips for various body types (i.e., what style skirt to wear if you want to look taller), and lays out what basics your should always have in your closet, what to look for when buying clothes (including what to do in the dressing room when you’re trying them on…hint: it’s not panic), as well as fool-proof guides to putting together that perfect outfit (with scads of pictures and inspiring examples).

The book also offers advice on everything from the most flattering shoe to wear with cropped pants to precisely how a jacket should fit over a dress and though I’ve owned it for a few years now, I still find myself pulling it off the shelf when I can use a little refresher, have a specific question, or need inspiration.

Because it focuses on building a complete, timeless wardrobe, The Lucky Shopping Manual is one of my favorite graduation presents for young women who are venturing into the workforce for the first time. After all, every girl deserves a wardrobe that makes the most of her body shape, won’t go out of style in a couple of years, yet allows her to participate in the latest fashion trends. The authors also give solid advice about which pieces to splurge on and which pieces to get at H&M.

After being converted by the Lucky gals, I find myself staring at my closet full of clothes, bemoaned that I have nothing to wear, much less frequently. With some classic pieces and my bases covered, I’m much more confident that I can throw an outfit together in a few minutes…and look and feel great!

If you’re interested in reading additional reviews on The Lucky Shopping Manual, click the Amazon link below. Now go forth and be stylish! ~tcb

The week we moved from Pennsylvania to Virginia was a rough one. Besides the fact that I had a 7 year-old starting a new school in the middle of the year and a 3 year-old with no preschool prospects, we moved into the house on a Tuesday, had my husband’s company Christmas party that Friday night, and a bridal shower for my soon-to-be sister-in-law on Saturday afternoon (which happened to be two hours away).

In the meantime, the house was crawling with painters who didn’t speak a lick of English, fumes from our recently refinished hardwoods were turning our brains to mush, and I still hadn’t found the box that contained of all things my entire collection of underwear.

Like I said…rough. And just when I thought I had completely lost my ability to cope, we received an invitation to the neighborhood Christmas party on Sunday. Well, I needed to try and find another sitter and get my self dressed (in clothes I hadn’t unpacked) to attend yet another party like I needed a great big whole in my head.

So I called the hosts (hoping I’d get the answering machine - which I did…yes!) and left a nice message thanking them for the invitation but told them we probably wouldn’t be able to make it for some good reason or another and then hung up. One less thing on my list of things to do. Or so I thought.

Ten minutes later the phone rang. I picked it up (against my better judgment) hoping it was the moving company calling to let me know that they’d found my box of underwear.

It wasn’t. It was our neighbor - the one who was hosting the neighborhood Christmas party. He’d just gotten my message and wanted to see if he could talk us into coming. I know how you feel, he said, we moved into the neighborhood a year ago and with the holidays and everything we were stressed too, but it was really nice to meet all of the neighbors at once and everyone is looking forward to meeting you and you’d really be missed so can you please come.

Apparently I was drunk at the time (or those fumes from the hardwoods were starting to eat away at my brain stem) because the next thing I knew, I spit out, “I still haven’t found my underwear”.

It just flew right out. There wasn’t anything I could do about it.

As I waited for the inevitable, “don’t ever call here again”, what I got instead was a throaty laugh and, “Aw hell, you don’t have to wear underwear…I won’t tell.”

Thank God my neighbor had a sense of humor. My husband and I ended up going to the party (now affectionately referred to as BYOU…bring your own underwear), had a great time, and met all of our new neighbors.

The moral to this story is…well, there are several:

1. Don’t let movers pack your underwear drawer…they’ll end up using your unmentionables to wrap around picture frames and chotskies and the box with your picture frames and chotskies will be the last place you’ll look for your underwear and the last box you’ll unpack;
2. Never use “I can’t find my underwear” as an excuse not to attend a party or you’ll be forever known as “the lady who can’t find her underwear”; and,
3. When all else fails (and it usually will), never lose your sense of humor. Being able to laugh, especially at yourself, will get you through some of life’s biggest challenges with a little more grace than many of us (i.e. me) can muster on our own.

I was a bit blue this week…don’t know why. It could’ve been that winter came back for a couple of days and I had to turn the heat back on (groan), or that my hormones were holding me hostage, or that someone left a criticial comment on one of my articles at DivineCaroline.com. Anyway, it piled up and I slithered down.

But today is sunny and warm, I’m wearing a cute new top (which used to be a dress but I cut it short), and I’m off to my 4-year-old’s preschool to celebrate his birthday with 16 cupcakes smothered in white fluffy icing and sprinkles. So today is good, and if there’s anything I’ve learned so far is that we MUST celebrate the good days and try to remember that they always come back (and that makes the not-so-good days seem not-so-bad).

Cheers!

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Who isn’t subject to little body image angst, right? Well, according to an article in the most recent issue of Ms. Magazine, body image issues among young women and girls are on the rise and mass media is to blame.

In the article, Caroline Heldman, assistant professor of politics at Occidental College, writes that low self-esteem and unhealthy body perceptions are often side effects of self-objectification (when we view our bodies as an object to be consumed by others - usually, men). And though the tendency to self-objectify has been around for a while, Heldman argues that the increasingly provocative mass media, which bombards women with images of female bodies shown as outright objects, is feeding the trend and it’s reaching even our youngest girls. The average American is exposed to 3000 to 5000 advertisements a day (many sexually charged) – up from 500 to 2000 a day in the 70’s, and girls as young as 7 years-old are exposed to clothing, toys, music, magazines and television programs that encourage them to be sexy or “hot”.

Heldman states that this onslaught of objectifying images often times leads to increased self-objectification, and those who self-objectify are more prone to depression, low self-esteem and have less faith in their own capabilities. It can also result in decreased cognitive functioning, poorer academic performance and motor skills, and cause girls to view themselves as powerless sexual objects. Kenyon College psychology professor Sara Murnen concurs with Heldman’s findings and adds that girls “are taught to view their bodies as ‘projects’ that need work before they can attract others, whereas boys are likely to learn to view their bodies as tools to use to master the environment.”

Well, for those of you raising young girls, you have your work cut out for you (and I can’t say that I’m envious). Having said that, as a mother of two young boys, I believe that I have a role too.

My husband’s Blender magazine came in the mail yesterday with a very seductive Tila Tequila on the front (clad only in a bikini bottom and tiny t-shirt) asking, “Aren’t you in love with me yet?” Before the stack of mail hit the table in the foyer, that magazine got put away (don’t worry, the hubby knows where I hide them).

Every day images like that make their way into my home – from my Victoria’s Secret catalogue to the racy commercials on TV – and I certainly don’t catch them all. But as parents, it’s our responsibility to manage the media our kids have access to. There are lots of confusing messages out there, why add photographs of half-naked or fetishized women to the mix? And even though you may be doing your best to instill healthy attitudes in your children, consistent exposure to these types of images can shape their perceptions of sexuality and teach them how to view women (whether they’re young girls or young boys) and it may not be as healthy as you think.

The most interesting way Heldman suggests to combat the tendency to self-objectify is to avoid media that compels us to do so. Even by the author’s admission, that’s a tough one because that basically rules out a majority of the movies, TV shows and magazines out there. However, her research with college-age women indicates that “the less women consume media, the less they self-objectify, particularly if they avoid fashion magazines. By shutting out media, girls and women can create mental and emotional space for true exploration.”

Now, I LOVE flipping through fashion magazines when I’m getting my hair done at the salon. It’s my time and my place to get lost in glossy pages of glamorous pictures and beautiful clothes and to discover that golden beauty tip I’ve been searching for all my life. But when my stylist puts down the hair dryer, I put down the magazines and don’t see them again until my roots begin to show (or until I go to the dentist). I try not to make them a part of my daily routine and as a result, my exposure to images selling an impossible-to-attain idea of beauty is reduced. (Hopefully my fabulousness hasn’t taken a hit!)

So, toss aside those fashions mags for a week…or a month…and see what happens. Will your head explode? Or will you delve into something more worthwhile with that extra time (like dusting off your journal, reading that book you’ve been dying to, taking that extra class to further your career or putting the hundreds of photos you’ve developed in the past two years into an album). Maybe if we consume less and create more, we’ll start to view ourselves as tools to master the universe.

Finally, I found a product that allows me to apply sunscreen without having to reapply my makeup! Peter Thomas Roth’s Instant Mineral SPF30 might just end up being my must-have product for the summer. It’s a brush-on powder in a portable little tube for immediate, anytime, broad-spectrum UVA/UVB sun protection. The finely-milled mineral powder provides a translucent, matte finish with physical sunblocks and Vitamins E, C & A to keep your face protected.

We’ve all heard about how the protective qualities of sunscreen degrade after a few hours and how we should be reapplying our sunscreen throughout the day. That’s a great idea, but I don’t find putting on a cream sunscreen over my make-up terribly appealing. And neither is reapplying my sunscreen AND my make-up several times a day. As a result, I don’t…and my face gets more sun that it should. This product is an easy and convenient way to reapply your sunscreen hassle-free and get rid of your mid-day shine to boot. Use it before leaving the office for lunch to give you the sun protection that you had when you first put on sunscreen in the morning.

I have to admit, I was a bit skeptical when first hearing about mineral powder with sun protection. But from the research I’ve done, the SPF is effective if you apply enough. How much is enough? Probably more than you’d use just to powder your nose. So make sure you cover your entire face (and neck and décolletage) for adequate protection. I found that reapplying a little blush afterwards helps because the powder tends to tone down my cheek color.

All you do is shake the tube gently, remove the cap and press the bristles lightly against your skin to release the powder. Put the cap back on, pop it in your bag and you’re good to go!

What I meant to say was, “Cool Broads don’t let their dogs poop in other people’s yards…at least without scooping up the poop in question.” (Because I’m pretty sure that none of you use the bathroom outside, or at least on a regular basis.)

To be honest, it amazes me that this needs to be a rule. But unfortunately, there are people out there who either aren’t respectful of others or are completely unaware that their actions have consequences…for someone.

Here’s an example: Though our city has a leash law, our neighbors let their dog, Sugar, roam the neighborhood night and day. Sometimes I see this dog a mile or so away…just a roamin’. Now, these neighbors seem like nice enough people and Sugar is, well, sweet. And their yard is the nicest one on the street – perfectly manicured and super green. It makes you wonder where they think their dog is crapping. I’ll tell you where…in MY yard.

The last time my mother visited she was lucky enough to step right smack dab into a pile of Sugar’s poop. And when my kids play football (which really means rolling around in the grass trying to tickle the ball out of the other’s hands), I have to scour the yard for landmines before they start rolling around in it.

Because we’re relatively new to the neighborhood, I’m reticent to say anything because I don’t want to be branded “the bitch that just moved in” right out of the gate. And frankly, if I do eventually say something to Sugar’s owners, I resent the fact that they’ve put me in that awkward position. I can hear my husband say, “They probably don’t know she’s doing it.” My response to that is, “Unless your dog is trained to use the toilet, she’s going to go whenever she gets the urge. And when she spends so much time elsewhere, it’s can’t be that difficult to deduce that she’s pooping elsewhere.”

This rule isn’t just about poop…it’s about being considerate of others. The following is a short list of some of the things one must adhere to when living on a planet with more than one person. Feel free to add to it. Feel free to print it off and anonymously put it in someone’s mailbox, or on their desk at work, or under their windshield wipers should they need a little reminder about what it means to be cool.

1) Cool Broads don’t throw trash out their car window (this includes
cigarette butts);
2) Cool Broads leave a note when they accidentally scratch someone
else’s car;
3) Cool Broads don’t put their dog outside and let it bark for hours;
4) Cool Broads don’t leave dirty dishes in the sink; and
5) Cool Broads talk to their neighbors before erecting or cutting down anything on the mutual property line.

See, it ain’t so difficult. What am I missing?

A breezy, spring day. My little black dog is covered in frothy, yellow pollen and everything is so green it almost hurts. After polishing off a bottle of red wine and admiring the new color on my arms, I find myself thinking, “If I could do just one near perfect thing, I’d be happy.”

Enjoy!

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I’ve got an idea…let’s refuse to buy any magazine or go to any website or click on any article that discusses Mischa Barton’s alleged cellulite (or anybody’s for that matter). Maybe then the story will go away.

Who’s in?

xoxo
tcb