suburbabble.

Look what just started working!

Needless to say, I now worship at the temple of Apple.

I have a strange feeling I must have been a Walker in a past life or something. Because every time I watch one of these crazy family dinner scenes on Brothers & Sisters I am overcome with an inexplicable pang of longing.

I have just one sib. And one set of cousins. But for as long as I can remember I have wanted to be a part of some kind of big, huge messy fam filled with lots of preppily-attired kids and strangely precocious grandkids.

The kind that play competitive board games in the study and stage elaborate holiday-themed skits in the living room. Who dress for dinner in sweater sets and tweed, drink way too much good wine, and engage in the type of teeth-gritting table fights that involve eye-rolling, snarky repartee, under-the-table kicking, accusations and recriminations, and inevitably end with at least three family members throwing down their napkins and storming off just as the main course is being served.

Sounds great, doesn’t it?

And it’s not just on Brothers & Sisters. Or on TV for that matter. It happens in the movies too. Dan in Real Life. The Family Stone. Any time there are a bunch of well-dressed, well-read, liberal smart alec-y kids gathered under one traditionally-appointed roof that may or may not belong to a matriarch played to knowing perfection by one of the Diannes (Wiest or Keaton) I want in.

Bonus points for a gratuitously impromptu around-the-piano family sing-a-long led by Dane Cook.

And on a totally unrelated note… How bad is it if your Seven-Year-Old turns in her homework with a bunch of Frog’s Leap spilled on the upper right hand corner??

Question: Say you’ve just spent the day driving carpool, packing school lunches, finding lost library books, cleaning caked-on sneaker mud, overseeing book fair meetings, filling out permission slips, dropping off at Girl Scouts, supervising homework, whipping up dinner, extinguishing sibling squabbles and being force-fed countless eps of Phineas & Ferb. Not to mention the fact that you lost your beloved iPod to a case of well, having children. And then, say, it’s finally six o’clock. And your husband calls from the car on his way home from work. But it’s not to tell you that he’ll be home in five. Or that you’re awesome. And gorgeous. No. it’s to tell you that he’s on his way to the freaking gym.

So what do you do?

Answer: Ribbit!

Actually, I think I need to get my hands on every single one of these bad boys — esp that sparkly Midnight Blue they’re calling Dorothy Who?

Personally I would have gone with Surrender, Dorothy.

What?

If the polish bitches get to name these suckers why oh why can’t I?

Know anyone who might be all the eff over Ruby Pumps, this killer new nail color from China Glaze’s new “Ooh Ahz” collection?

Yeah. Me Neither.

1 Four-Year-Old Who Got Up At 4:00 am + 1 Seven-Year-Old Who Got Up at 5:00 am = One Beauty Sleep-Deprived 40-Year-Old With a Big Ol’ Cup of Coffee.

Happy freaking Wednesday!

mmmegan: (via nickibinds)

When I grow up I want to be one of the cool bohemian hippie chicks in the Free People catalog.

I’m sexy, I’m cute, I’m popular to boot! I’m vicious, great hair. The boys all love to stare. I’m wanted, I’m hot, I’m everything your not. I’m pretty, I’m cool. I dominate the school…

My apologies to both Kirsten Dunst and Hayden Planetarium.

But no one rocks a red high school cheerleader uniform quite like Quinn Fabray.

Save the Cheerio, Save the World bitches!

“If you want to look good, you gotta pay the price. The price is not eating.”

Thank God these filthy, nasty whores bitches are back.

Are these the only two boys in LA?

Seriously, Kristen.

I love Brody as much as the next plaid shirt-wearing bottle blonde. But you are — as much as I hate to admit it — that rare combination of a girl who is both cute, cool, and capable of taking a water balloon to the face while rocking the shiz out of a barely there Missoni bikini.

Why, then, are you are you wasting your talents on Jayde and Audrina’s Sloppy Seconds?

Oh yeah.

Because the producers told you to.

Still.

We know you can do better.

So throw on that jaunty fedora and a teeny tiny pair of jean shorts and go find yourself a Fackelmeyer or something.

Pop Quiz.

You are a stay-at-home suburban mom if:

A. You’re driving around town for five days with your car stereo stuck on Radio Disney and you don’t even notice.

B. When you do finally notice, you kinda care. But not really.

C. You are rocking a pair of black velour Juicy sweats at the time, that — let’s face it — weren’t even that cool when you bought them back in ‘01.

D. The 1:00 elementary school book fair meeting is the highlight of your day.

E. All of the freaking above.