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Archive for 2006

HELP WANTED

Hey Chickadees,

Can you help a sista out? I’m looking for a few good bloggers who would want to blog for free on a website called www.hotmomsclub.com. It’s a very cool site which is about to get even cooler because I will be editing it. And we all know how cool I am. Okay, how cool I think I am. Anyway, contact me if it’s something you’d be interested in and I will get back to you. Also, we’re going to need articles, tips, movie reviewers etc. Yes, I know there’s no money but it’s a website that already has over a million hits a month so your shit will get out to the masses.

Let me know.

In other news, it’s Feel Thursdays on ABC so I must go imbibe in few cocktails and lay prone on my couch for a few thousand hours.

Peace OUT!

Posted by Stefanie Wilder Taylor on October 20, 2006 3:35 amUncategorized33 comments  

Things Are Tough All Over

Lately I’ve been frustrated with how expensive it is to live in Los Angeles. Even a moderate middle class lifestyle is difficult to maintain out here. And, hey, I may want to get Botox soon and that shit ain’t cheap. Sometimes I have these fantasies of just getting the hell out. Selling the house for an okay profit, relocating somewhere lush with greenery, building a lake house and living a peaceful small town existance.

A close mom friend (we met in Target when the babes were ten-weeks-old)who has a chic Hollywood job is cashing it all in to move across the country to some state that starts with the letter A where she can smash her Blackberry, spend time with her daughter and let her husband run an electrical company. I’m jealous. But I can’t do it. First and foremost, no one is going to be impressed with my resume of working on shitty reality shows in Alabama. The folks in Arkansas won’t care that I wrote “the funny” on Show Me the Funny. No one in Alaska has probably even seen Blind Date or the two Chuck Woolery hosted seasons of the All New Dating Game. And who am I fooling? I couldn’t pull a Men in Trees and move to Alaska anyway. I wouldn’t last ten minutes in a state with cold weather. I don’t even own a parka. In fact, I’m almost certain I’ve never spoken the word parka out loud. I freely admit I’m a weather wuss. Not too mention the lack of consistant sunlight would be hell on my S.A.D. I spend enough on anti-depressants as it is. I’m not a big seasons whore either. I’m not interested in scraping my car windows in the winter, raking the lawn in the fall or shoring up the roads for hurricane season. Yes, there are earthquakes here. I’m aware of that fact I just try not to think about it.

As far as my husband goes, he’d love to move for the sake of raising our daughter somewhere safe, clean and quiet but he has no electrical skills to speak of. So he won’t be running an electrical company – he could produce a documentary film about one but I’m not sure the broad appeal of that.

So, the other day I was in a toy store with my daughter trying to burn off the morning and I started thinking that maybe I could work in a store in my new lush green, seasonless fantasy state I’d be moving to. Wouldn’t it be nice to just have no drama for a few years? Hang out behind the counter of a little bookstore, greeting customers by their first names. Sure, minimum wage is a kizz-unt but that’s just the trade off. That’s when I overheard this conversation between the only two employees in the store:

Slightly Grumpy With Big Hair and Bigger Glasses: I just don’t see why Clint has me doing the puzzle section. It’s ridiculous. He was supposed to do it himself but he clearly just doesn’t feel like it and thinks he can put it off on me because he has seniority.

Navy Blue and Red plaid Teddy Bear Sweater: Well I had to work overtime three days straight because he couldn’t get the books to balance. I don’t see why he doesn’t do it on the computer. My seven-year-old grandson could figure it out on the computer. Last week the trains never came in, he blamed ME. Of course, he just forgot to order them. I swear if I knew I wouldn’t have to resort to eating dog food the second my social security check was a day late, I’d quit this hell hole in a heartbeat.

Okay, the last sentence was added in my mind because I was thinking, it’s all the same wherever you go.

Except in some other A states there are a lot more Republicans and my husband might punch one and get us 86’d from Arkansas. So we may as well stay put.

Posted by Stefanie Wilder Taylor on October 15, 2006 3:19 amUncategorized27 comments  

Stars in LA

I had a celebrity sighting today. I was in the mall and saw Kato Kaelin.

Yes, it’s true. I’m not making it up to be really cool, exaggerating my life to snare more readers and possibly get Blogher to come and put an ad on my site for feminine hygiene products. But before I could pat myself on the back for this coop, I had to stop and think to myself, “thrilling as it may be to see Kato live and in person, it may not qualify as a celebrity sighting anymore.” My husband, in fact, told me he doesn’t believe it counts. But then again, he was proud because he spotted “the dumb girl from the Bacardi commercial” at the Burbank airport. So, I can’t trust him on this issue.

It’s hard to know where to draw the line when you live in a city that’s crawling with working actors, wanna-be actors, reality tv cretins and bonafide celebrities. I mean, three days ago I saw Harry Hamlin and didn’t even blink an eye because I knew right away that didn’t count. If LA Law was still on the air maybe but still doubtful. Possibly, the reason I even considered Kato a celeb sighting is the sheer shock value of it. Seemingly out of nowhere, his blow-dried head appeared from the counter of Wetzel’s Pretzels. He was accompanied by two women fully made up and wearing heels. High heels in a mall is a strange sight. It’s hard enough on your feet to stroll around in a pair of Keds on those concrete floors. Wearing a spiked heel would feel like performing Hari Kari on myself. Or at least, I’d want to. Anyway, it was immediately apparent I was staring straight at Kato “famous houseguest” Kaelin.

After I got over the shock and went into the numbness of acceptance, I started wondering about something. There has to be a reason that Kato still sports the same exact Leif Garrett blow dry look he became known for in 1995. I started thinking that I guess you’d have to. If you go changing your look, who’s going to know it’s you – KATO – famous for nothing? If say, Tootie from Fact of Life changes her look, when she stars in another sitcom we all know it’s her. But Kato would have to get himself involved in another scandal if he had a totally new look. So I guess I get it now. And that is why I’m going to continue to wear banana clips in my hair even though I was recently told that they are so far out of style that they’re like the gauchos of hair accessories. But, hey, how will anyone know it’s my hair?

Posted by Stefanie Wilder Taylor on September 26, 2006 9:32 pmUncategorized21 comments  

Stef Puffy Combs

Lately I feel like all I’m doing is gaining weight. I dipped to my lowest ever due to a poorly prescribed Zoloft amount which made me completely lose my appetite. But since that’s been straightened out, I’ve been slowly creeping back to the higher numbers. Luckily for me, I live in Los Angeles. You might be thinking, “what do you mean, luckily for you? Los Angeles is the most judgemental city of all.” And to that I would respond “True.” But…here’s the thing; what I do when caught in the undertoe of weight neurosis is to tell myself that I’m just putting on poundage for a role. Yeah, I’m like Renee Zellweggy

only less British.

Wait a minute…see, exactly like Renee. Now that’s a delusion I can hang my hat on. I can walk down the street, thighs and butt threatening to attempt a jail break from my jeans, to say nothing of my Victoria Secret underwear making a vicious red mark on my hips, and think “yes! It’s all for my art!”

Okay, whatever, so that’s not exactly true. I have been feeling bad about it. I’ve been looking longingly at my skinny jeans and wondering if I’ll ever see that size again. What am I supposed to do – stop eating french fries? That just seems harsh. Looking back on that glorious 100 mg. Zoloft time, I can’t help but feel sad that there was a point that weight loss was effortless, a plate of cookies meaning nothing more than a big steaming pile of brocolli. Those times are gone. And I’m missing them like Lisa Kudrow misses Friends.

The weirdest thing is that when I was skinny skinny and people would say how great I looked I would think they were assholes because I was waaaay too skinny and how dare they think that painfully skinny is sexy.

Now I have to put my money where my mouth is. And that’s on the Trader Joe’s mac and cheese I steal from Elby everyday.

Posted by Stefanie Wilder Taylor on September 23, 2006 3:43 amUncategorized14 comments  

BUH BYE

I’m at the carousel today with Elby and she’s chatting away with me, when a woman in green slacks (should’ve been a warning) places her little girl on a giant giraffe in front of us. Right away I can’t help but notice she’s one of those overly baby-talking moms despite the fact that her daughter looks to be about five. “Do you wannna wide on da giraffy, honey?” “Uh, sure mom, and can I bum a smoke?” You get the picture. Just as soon as the ride gets going, she turns to Elby and says, “hi there.” So I look over at Elby and give her the requisite, “can you say hi?” and she gives baby-talking-mom a Twinkle Twinkle Little Star Wave – not actually bothering to say hi, which I totally get. And here’s the crazy part — the woman says, “oh is that some kind of sign language thing?” REALLY? “nope…just…regular language.” And then she sort of frowns and dismisses us with a “huh.” Like she’s saying, “if you say so. But I’ve never come across that before. Maybe you should have her tested.” Yeah, isn’t a wave sort of the international symbol for hi?

You know what? I’m teaching my daughter how to flip the bird. Which I’m pretty sure is the international symbol for buh bye.

And by the way, if you want another taste of L.A., check out my hilarious friend Suzy’s new blog Where Hot Comes To Die

Posted by Stefanie Wilder Taylor on September 18, 2006 8:21 pmUncategorized19 comments  


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