Dish Upon a Star Almost Disappeared

Ladies, I thought Dish was a goner. 20 years of content vanished. For days, I surrendered to the idea that nothing lasts forever. Walk out of the burning house knowing all is lost. I considered starting over from scratch. But then I realized...maybe I'm signing in using the wrong Google account. It's the latest chapter of my new book I'm an Idiot.

I'd wanted to emote about audacious nipples, raging anorexia, and "art" of the Met Gala, but who needs more negativity? That's code for I couldn't find this blog for a couple weeks.

Cutting to the chase, my entertainment recommendations in this order: Legends, The Audacity, Widow's Bay

Secret watching when spouse is asleep: Mean Girl Murders, Dawson's Creek, All the President's Men where I admire Dustin Hoffman's feathery locks. 

I miss a good feather do, i.e. Tom Cruise in MI: 2 and the incomparable Farrah Fawcett, who got us all using a curling iron.

Farah Fawcett Foundation

With everything being bad, I count on the stars for laughs. Like Martin Short's Life is Short (I finally get that the title matches his last name). Enjoyed it, got a little seasick from the shaky camera, went through all the reasons why he annoyed me as a youngster, but became hilarious as I moved into my 40s and 50s. If you've ODed on true crime, Martin Short's doc will replenish your serotonin. What a life. 

****

You knew this was coming. Because I'm still obsessed and have no other outlet--family can't bear my Blondie reflections--I am on wedding watch for Taylor and Travis, have been amused by their NYC outings, imagining how they are a mere 5 miles downtown from me. It's okay for me to regress and believe I'm still in my 30s. Just a little while longer.

It's like we're living the same life.

Because I'm on HRT, semi-retired, and have endured emotional love tsunamis already, I can't with the Easter eggs anymore but I love the goo goo eyes between them and her outfits. It's way better than being at war, impoverishing a nation, celebrating incompetence, and watching people proudly showcasing bigotry. Ya know?

AI Is a Diphthong that Smoothes Away Visible Panty Lines but Not Cellulite

I'm now somewhere between Iraq and Park Place, sipping smoothies directly from the Strait of Vermouth. As I graze my hand off my floating swan raft and into the chlorinated water, I am telepathically downloading the latest intel on your favorite stars.

On Saturday, I was finally in the same room as Don Cheadle. We laughed and cried as he excelled in how he talked to us about math. Prime numbers, wow. Solving a proof over 40 pages, my God! So we didn't actually speak directly to each other, but I know he saw me in Row J, seat 18. My electric red hair is that glowy, as is my waving of hands and mouthing, "Hi, Don Cheadle! It's meeee!!!!" If you have the chance to see Proof on Broadway, do it now. Ayo Edebiri and Don rock it, also Jin Ha and Kara Young are excellent. 

Before the show started, I recognized Jason Blum a few rows ahead of us. We went to high school together, though were not besties. Oh the horror! (wink wink) I elbowed TG, who was ready to pounce, but I whispered, "Don't bother him. He's a star." 

When did I become so respectful? Maybe it's that celebrity has changed in 20 years. It comes with purity tests and other quirks. More of a revolving door of younger, thinner people, new faces. I wouldn't know what to say. How cringe is it that I'm revealing this? I'm still confident and daring at 36!!! 

I will sign off with a warning of the upcoming girl rapture. Reese Witherspoon and Mel Robbins are smiling-telling women not to be left behind by AI. Come on, girls. Time to shorten your hems, crop your tops, wear a bold lipstick, and hike up those heels. Let Him do some under-the-sweater action or else you'll never get a man, children, or any life.

Ps. I only use AI to apply my estrogen patch, which I totally don't need because I'm way too young.