Mustard Yellow Wall and anthropological observation.

Bosom friends!

I know it has been a while...What can I say this 9 to 5 deal is not as sweet as Dolly Parton made me believe. For sure there is no singing involved.
First thing first: my office has a very questionable mustard yellow wall. It is right behind me and you can only imagine what such a backdrop can do for my pale complexion. Disaster. My under eye perpetual "purpleness" has never been better bitterly highlighted.
Also I have one of the few spaces with no direct sunlight. I've never thought I was going to miss the sunshine as much as I have in the past month. You only miss the good things when they are gone.
On top of that I am enjoying the effects of eight hours a day of central air conditioning. As of now I have a sore throat, a drippy nose and a stiff neck. Very glamorous.

But it is not all bad.

I can now pay $300 dollars a month in taxes and I am able to pay premium rates for our car insurance. Dandy.

Luckily I am a people "pleaser". I know what you are thinking...Sarcasm and pleasing people do not go well together, but that's my coping mechanism.
At the end of the day I do enjoy my new assisting position. I am assisting my ass off. I am assisting so hard the "ass" in assisting is gone. I am "isting" only. I am ass-less. Not that I ever had that much of a perky rear end but now it is has completely disappeared.

It is amazing how much I have missed human interaction though.
I am around people the whole day and let me tell you there is a personality flavor for any taste.
It's fascinating to watch how certain characters react to each other. Sometimes you have pretty sparkles, sometimes it's just a lukewarm affair. It is sort of like "Big Brother" but without the editing. A bunch of strangers who spend most of their day with people they have been put in contact with not by choice but by fate. Serendipity? It sounds way more poetic that it actually is. Nevertheless it provides me quite a bit of entertainment and human interaction insight.

My favorite time of the day is lunch time. Not because of the break itself, it's not like we are having lunch at the new swanky dive in South Beach...
What is amazing is what people bring for lunch from their homes.
You know how they say show me your friends and I'll tell you who you are? Well in my case it's more like show me what you put in your lunch box and I'll tell you where your parents are from, at which point of your hormonal cycle you are at (men included) and the state of your romantic life.
I tell you, if you pay close attention to what people put in their mouths and how they do it you could get a better insight than you would by going through their garbage.
The break room fills up with smells from all the corner of the world and if you close your eyes you could imagine yourself in some places as exotic as India or as middle America as Burger King. A cheap way to travel on your lunch break. "Lunch-pedia".

I won't even get into the "fashion police" side of things. That topic deserves a whole post for itself. All I will say for now is that fashion laziness, delusion and irresponsibility are spreading like wild fire.

What really has changed since my 9 to 5 experiment is how enhanced my time off is. Now I really appreciate the feeling of "I am done for week" that Friday is filled with. The anticipation of a Friday night when you feel like those two whole days at your disposal are going to last 480 hours instead of only 48. Saturday morning coffee in bed with the hubby now tastes like we were sipping brewed grinds of original Colombian premium quality beans freshly toasted to our liking.
Doing laundry has become my weekly meditation time when I reconnect with my cosmic goddesses and my mind just floats in the air together with the steam of my iron and the smell of fresh linen.
Grocery shopping is now a treasure hunt and having the hubby lingering in front of the chocolate and candy aisle is not a as painful as it used to be.
Going out to a restaurant or meeting friends for whatever is now a red carpet affair filled with "no basic allowed" spirit and determination.

Sunday is the "sunset boulevard" of the week since Monday is just around the corner but there is still light at the end of the tunnel. The next Friday is only five more days of anthropological observation away.

Ciao for now.

Mani-pedi in Manila.

Bosom friends!

I am very sad to announce that my posts are going to be far fewer than you got accustomed to.

As I wrote two weeks ago I am now a working girl.
I have joined the rest of the world and I am now earning a salary. Well I was no virgin to the concept of making a living for myself but I have been off the job carousel for quite sometimes.

My first week at the office has been quite balls to the wall.

I have been flown to LA for three days to have a crash course in executive assisting.
Let me tell you assisting is no piece of cake. I am already kind of reluctant to take care of my own daily necessities, you can only imagine how comfortable I am when it comes to sorting out others. And I am not taking care of desperate housewives whom the most important thing is to fit their hair and mani-pedi appointments into one afternoon.
No.
I am making sure that corporate executives have their schedule in place and that they are not flying to Manila instead of Miami.
Pressure.

I am well aware I am not performing open heart surgery but when something is new it can still unnerve you no matter the degree of difficulty you are faced with.

An added challenge at the moment is to create a whole new living schedule for hubby and I.
It's like going from having a 24 hours housekeeper on your payroll to having a sad box of "swiffer" supplies delivered to your doorstep.
Boom!
House work is never done by definition and let me tell you at this rate it will never be done in perpetuity. Let the dust settle and let's send the vacuum cleaner on vacation. It has worked hard for quite sometimes, it deserves to live a little.

It's amazing how much I have to manage to do in a considerably smaller amount of time.
I am planning to stuck a broom up my butt, at least while I trot around the house getting the laundry done and cooking easy to warm up meals I am also making sure the floors are kept in order too.
I am now wiping the sink and bathroom mirror right after I am done with my beauty routine. Knowing that the limestone is forming on my ceramics while I sleep would put me right over the edge. Please don't judge, I am already giving myself a roll of eyes every time I wash my face and floss my teeth.

In any case it is nice to be out of the house and  amongst new faces and such.
It's all new and I can't yet tell how much I am going to like this whole new arrangement but somebody told me that even if it's not my dream job it will be up to me to make it into it.

For now I can only hope I won't fuck it up and that I won't be asked to "sashay away".

Tomorrow is Monday and off I go ready for a new week. I assure you that the word "Monday" has now a whole new meaning. Bittersweet symphony.
Expense reports, booking of flights, calendar organizing and very little time left for a mani-pedi.

Ciao for now.

Bitter Betty? No, now it's Working Betty.

Bosom friends!

Boy do I have news.

I don't know if you ever had to go through a career change.
Allow me to sugar coat it: it's rather displeasing.

Doing a career 180 can take quite a toll on our self esteem and can potentially transform us in Bitter Betty. Since I am not that mysterious or complicated I had the pleasure of experiencing both instances on my search for a new career path. I became "lacking self esteem Bitter Betty".
For a retired performer finding a new job is like setting your goal on finding the Holy Grail. Better yet is like trying to find Neverland together with Peter and Tinkerbell. You better be clapping your own hands otherwise you will peg out as soon as your self worth hits rock bottom.

As I discussed previously in one of my posts I have been to numerous job interviews and sent out a plethora of resumes. But it turned out I was qualified to do nothing. Apparently I do not possess the required skills to even fold T-shirts at Zara.

Anyway...

I have been in the Cruise Line industry for the past 10 years and I have loved every minute of it.
Naturally I did apply for whatever job offering there was out there for various cruise lines but as I suspected, transitioning form such a defined field as "entertainment" was not an easy task.

Long story short.

I eventually got a job interview for Crystal cruise line. To be precise this is the "Rolls Royce" of cruise lines and amongst "ship peeps" it is regarded as the best of the best. The company is opening a new office here in Miami and there was an opening for an Executive Assistant.
So I put on a lovely office friendly (yet stylish) ensemble, grabbed my Louis Vuitton and headed to the interview feeling just like Melanie Griffith in "Working Girl": empowered and savvy but without the silly hair cut. (if you are too young for this movie reference google it, worst case scenario you will get a lovely education over the 80's fashion sense...).

Eventually I was going to an interview for an industry I love and that I know very well. I felt as if I eventually solved the "right place at the right time" conundrum.
I was going to be interviewed by the Senior Vice President of Marketing and Sales and (I have to be honest) I thought I was gonna feel a bit out of place. A fish out of water, better yet a ship out of water...
I couldn't have been more wrong about it.
The energy I got from this wonderful VP lady was so positive I felt like my batteries got fully charged on the spot. I was asked many questions and I was very grateful I had the opportunity to represent myself face to face rather than via the usual cold typed resume.

I am very happy to say that the interview went very well and that I will be starting as the new Executive Assistant for Crystal's Miami office next Monday!!!
The company is flying me to Los Angeles (where they have their current head quarters) for all the necessary hands on training with the LA team and I couldn't be more excited.
Yes, I am embarking on a brand new working experience but I will be working in an industry that I love and comprehend.
It is all new but familiar.

So here I go.
Full steam ahead.
From bitter Betty to working Betty.

Ciao for now.

Memories and stuff.

Bosom friends!

Yesterday a lovely lady who used to work for the same company as my hubby posted this of her Face Book page:

Lose the price tag and explore the world around you - according to the Millennials ..
The Next Web reports there are 79 million Millennials in the United States, three million more than the notorious Baby Boomer generation that is responsible for many of the jobs, industries and government programs at our disposal.
But industries are going to have to re-evaluate Gen-Y if they want to target us in their advertising. Most of us are starting to realize the priceless advantages of spending our hard-earned money on things like travel, education and creative activities.
Researchers say companies will need to adapt to this shift in mentality in order to compete and survive in this generation’s new world.
Ultimately, these are longer-term investments in our own individual happiness.
By spending more of our money on things that enhance our life — filling us with golden memories and unforgettable adventures — we aren’t just changing the industries that surround us, we’re shedding some much-needed positivity and light on the world.
Each day we’re convinced to buy things we don’t need, spend money we don’t have and purchase garbage that loses its value within a matter of weeks.
Generation-Y is one of the largest, most influential groups of society, and we have the unique ability to control the fate of our wallets and investments in life.
Why buy the latest phone when you can put that $400 toward a plane ticket to a country you’ve never been before?
People who constantly live with their future goals, investments and happiness at the forefront of their minds tend to live much happier lives than the rest of consumers swamped in products and rubbish.
It’s time to stop swiping the cards every time we get paid and start thinking about the memories we could be making with just a little bit of extra savings and a road.

How do we feel about it?

I admit I have mixed feelings. Well shaken and blended together.

Modern day life is a bitch. That is a fact.
Instant gratification is wildly available both in the form of social media egocentricity and materialistic acquisitions (AKA retail therapy).

Does the Millenials generation (my generation) even know what it wants? Most of us don't even need to want anything. We have it already. Most of the time we only want the newer version of whatever we already posses. Most of the time we don't know how to choose or what to choose simply because we don't know any worse. We have had it so easy we ended up finding difficult to spot what is actually going to enhance our life simply because our lives don't need much enhancement to begin with. Third world children's lives do need some improvement, ours mostly need more substance.

"Most of us are starting to realize the priceless advantages of spending our hard-earned money on things like travel, education and creative activities".
Is that so?
I didn't think that my generation was so proactive. I may be wrong.
I still see plenty of Millenials very much into what they drive, what they wear and how much they can blow (up their noses or out of their wallets) during a week end.
How many of us have spent a silly amount of money on a designer bag or on the latest "designed in  California, made in China" gadget? Personally I gave in on both fronts. I have failed the "How shallow are you" test.
I feel we were never programmed to choose what we wanted most and instead we were given the opportunity to grab it all. I am not going to blame it entirely on modern society because those decisions were ours but we were certainly enabled to a degree. I myself find difficult to think of one single thing I really want with the passion. At 34 years of age I feel I have accomplished plenty considering all the variables. I have been to places I didn't even know existed.
Dare I say I am tired...?
Nevertheless I am about to start it all over again. New city, new job, new career, new everything yet I am still the "good old me".
I want to travel some more but I have done plenty of that before and also packing is a bitch.
I learned and educated my self on what I felt passionate about once upon a time. Been there, done that.
I do enjoy creative activities and I am damn good at those but it's only worth creating something is there is someone else on the other end making use of it. Creating something per se might not feel as fulfilling.
Perhaps I am not tired. Probably I just got lazy.

And that's what I think is the Millenials worst enemy: being lazy.

It's way easier to prove you have a enviable life style by buying status symbol items rather than spending a month traveling through the remote parts of Asia.

It's way easier to swipe our cards as soon as we get paid to make us feel accomplished. But unfortunately that fulfilling retail therapy high will loose its value as quickly as the stuff we bought.
And then we are out there again looking for the next quick fix.

It's sort of a vicious cycle and I am a willing participant as much as the next of you.

People who constantly live with their future goals, investments and happiness at the forefront of their minds tend to live much happier lives than the rest of consumers swamped in products and rubbish.

I do agree with this last statement.
But we can't have it all even if we have been convinced that we can.
Choosing between possessions and experiences (or memories) is not as an easy task as the above article suggests.

I personally think I need a bit of reprogramming on that front but do I really want it?

Ciao for now.

Christian lobby and high school sweethearts.

Bosom friends!

Please find below your daily dose of bull-shit.

Compliments of all the bigots from around the world Inc.

This article is by Adrian Garcia (he writes for the Gaily Grind) who reports as follow (my comments are in bold).

A Christian couple is threatening to divorce if the evil gays are allowed to get married in Australia.
High school sweethearts Nick and Sarah Jensen, announced their threat to divorce in an opinion piece published by Canberra CityNews under the headline, “Gay law change may force us to divorce”.
“My wife and I just celebrated our 10-year anniversary. But later this year, we may be getting a divorce,” he writes.
First of all "high school sweethearts" already raises a very big red flag. Never trust one of those couples. You need to experience way more before you decide to share your life with just that one individual. I call those high school lazy-asses. Meet a reproductively sound partner, get married, breed and pay your mortgage while going to church on Sundays and judging anyone who does not live by the fictional book called "The Bible".
“The decision to divorce is not one we’ve taken lightly. And certainly, it’s not one that many will readily understand. And that’s because it’s not a traditional divorce.”
Mr Jensen explains that if they are forced to divorce,  they plan to continue living together, have more kids, and will continue to refer to each other as husband and wife, but will legally end their marriage because they believe “marriage is not a human invention”.
What the holy fuck?!? The only thing that is not a human invention is mother nature. Everything else we made up. So this lovely couple can be married under the common law and keep breeding like rabbits to fulfill their life purpose. I couldn't give a smaller fuck about how they live their bigoted, narrow minded and poorly accessorized life.
“Our view is that marriage is a fundamental order of creation. Part of God’s human history. Marriage is the union of a man and a woman before a community in the sight of God. And marriage of any couple is important to God regardless of whether that couple recognises God’s involvement or authority in it,” he writes.
Where do this people get their insights? From Snow White and Cinderella? Actually even those two gals were more modern than those two Jesus fans. God does not give a shit about who gets married or divorced or runs off with a goat. God perhaps is way more preoccupied about how badly we have already fucked up his ultimate creation: the Earth. Let's hope God (or whatever there is out there) only cares about "love" and not "who we love".

Let’s pause for an eye roll break:



Jensen says he and his wife refuse to recognize the government’s regulation of marriage if its definition includes same-sex couples.
“If our federal parliament votes to change the timeless and organic definition of marriage later on this year, it will have moved against the fundamental and foundational building block of Australian society and, indeed, human culture everywhere,” he writes.
“Indeed, it raises a red flag when a government decides it is not content only having sovereignty over land, taxes and the military — but ‘words’ themselves.
So ladies and gentlemen whatever law or regulation your country may have in place is up for personal interpretation.  To oblige to any of those rules will be optional. That is also known as anarchy.
“This is why we are willing to divorce. By changing the definition of marriage, ‘marriage’ will, in years to come, have an altogether different sense and purpose.”
Mr Jenses can go right ahead and coin a new word and concept all together to redefine marriage. He can make up a straight-people-only version so that all the bigots in the world can feel safe and protected from the evil homosexuals offspring of Satan.
Mr Jensen has previously been employed by the Australian Christian Lobby, according to News.com Australia.
Christian lobby and high school sweethearts. Picture perfect.
We fully support your decision to divorce, just as we would fully support anyone’s decision to marry the person they love.
So go right ahead.
Don’t let us stop you!

As we say in Italy "the mother of idiots is always pregnant".

Ciao for now.
 

Tony Awards and aligned gay planets.

Bosom friends!

How did I manage to completely miss the Tony awards?

The single most important awards night for a gay male.
Forget pride parades and the GLAAD awards.
Tony's night is the night when the homosexual planets align and we all get reconnected to what we love most: DRAMA.

I didn't manage to watch the whole thing yet, life is a bitch, but I have seen a couple of moments that I particularly loved.

To begin with the opening of the show by the two hosts Kristin Chenoweth and Alan Cumming was just charming. No bells and whistles, no big production. Only two very talented performers having a bit of fun with Broadway idiosyncrasies, stars and its most beloved shows.
Classy, funny, short enough and also slightly uncanny due to the overly botoxed Chenoweth's face and the short pants suit wore by Cumming.

Dame Helen Mirren shined during her acceptance speech for the best performance by an actress in a leading role in a play. The play is called The Audience and it takes theatregoers behind the walls of Buckingham Palace and into the private chambers of Queen Elizabeth II (played by Helen Mirren) as she meets with each of her Prime Ministers, from when she was a young mother to now, as a great grandmother. Through these private audiences, we see glimpses of the woman behind the crown and witness the moments that shaped a monarch.
Mirren is as usual just impeccable in the role. Very few things are perfect in life: Helem Mirren as Queen Elizabeth is one of them.

Nevertheless what really blew everybody away was the performance by an 11 years old girl.
The girl I am talking about is Sydney Lucas. Sydney didn't happen to win the Tony Award she was nominated for on Sunday night, but it took nothing away from the fact that she was the highlight of the entire broadcast. Lucas plays Small Alison in Fun Home, the musical adaptation of Alison Bechdel's graphic memoir about her coming of age that won the award for Best Musical. Lucas sang "Ring Of Keys," which tells the story of Alison seeing a woman who ... well, she'll tell you.

Just click on this link and enjoy!

Sydney is the proof that talent and dedication will make you shine when you are given the opportunity to.

On top of that the score and the lyrics of this particular song show us that fortunately there are good writers out there. Luckily there are artists with more in their heads than the usual trash we are served daily by megastars with huge entourages but very little left to say. They have to be found in the less lucrative theater scene but they are all alive and kicking! Thank God!

Till next year then, until the gay planets will align again.

Ciao for now!

Dress to depress.

Bosom friends!

Today while working out I stumbled upon an article which content almost made me fall off of the elliptical I was riding in the effort to burn off my beloved whit wine spritzers.

The Science Of Simplicity: Why Successful People Wear The Same Thing Every Day
I never thought this headline could hide such horror.

This written piece basically states that successful people are as such also because they do not waste their time accessorizing and more generally they do not allow frivolous details to distract them from the bigger picture.

The writer says that this is precisely why individuals like President Obama, Steve Jobs (the late Apple magnate wore his signature black turtleneck with jeans and sneakers every single day), Mark Zuckerberg (the Face Book dude typically wears a gray t-shirt with a black hoody and jeans) and Albert Einstein decided to make life easier by adopting a monotonous wardrobe.

I call bullshit.

Those individuals have adopted a monotonous (I call it depressing) wardrobe not to achieve their goals. They moved to sad-outfits-land only after they became powerhouses.
Once they became a brand they had to keep that brand up by attending public gatherings always looking like the image that made them globally recognizable. An image I find rather shitty but nonetheless a lasting one.

The crazy "people of Wall-Mart" are perpetually wearing the same wacko outfits but I don't see any of them leading a country or inventing the next electronic gadget that is going to change our lives. They just grab the same damn acid wash t-shirt and stripper Plexiglas heels and go out into the world to get rid of the last bit of dignity they have left.

Exhibit one.

Exhibit two.

This writer also related the time we spend planning an outfit to the concept of decision fatigue. Allegedly this is a real psychological condition in which a person’s productivity suffers as a result of becoming mentally exhausted from making so many irrelevant decisions.

I call bullshit again.

It's an outfit we are putting together not a plan to solve third world hunger.
Many jobs can be a little monotone, thank god most of us do have the liberty of wearing something that expresses who we are. A make-me-feel-good outfit can definitely cheer up an otherwise irritating Monday morning at the office. A decently cut suit can make you look more like Richard Gere in American Gigolo rather than Bozo the Clown.
We still need to make decisions in order to look demure or simple.
Still decisions, just different ones.
If you have to wear an uniform to work fair enough. I will still give you my most heartfelt condolences. I had to wear an uniform while working on cruise ships during extra duties hours and I always felt as if I was wearing a full burka. I may be exaggerating but I hope I got the message across.

But wait because the fashion slaughter-house is not over.

This deranged author also adds:
Indeed, having a diverse collection of clothing is overrated. We waste so much time worrying about things that have no substantial consequences, and don’t even realize how easily we could change this.
This is exactly why President José Mujica of Uruguay rejects conformity and refuses to wear a tie, stating:

The tie is a useless rag that constrains your neck.
I’m an enemy of consumerism. Because of this hyperconsumerism, we’re forgetting about fundamental things and wasting human strength on frivolities that have little to do with human happiness.

I am sure for the next fall/winter collections all of the major fashion houses will hire the president of Uruguay as a consultant.
Have you ever been to Uruguay? I have. Let's just say they have bigger fishes to fry. They are not against consumerism, they just cannot afford it.

The article's last pearl of wisdom is:
True fulfillment is acquired by going out into the world and fostering palpable and benevolent changes.

Now everything is clearer: this dude was probably following one of those self-empowering online courses.. His daily consumption self-affirmations fuel his need to go out into the world and foster palpable and benevolent changes.

If we really want to say that life is complicated enough to allow the little things to dictate our happiness and all we need to do is to simplify, fair enough.
But let's not expect the same results that Steve Jobs, Mark Zuckerberg or Albert Einstein managed to achieve.
Whatever form of laziness we indulge is not going to bring us any kind of success.
The only way to not let our appearance interfere with the perception others have of us is to make sure that we present ourselves at our best ALWAYS. Best doesn't mean fancy but it doesn't mean wearing a self imposed pseudo uniform either.

In the end it does come to looking the part.

If you are an iconic business groundbreaking entrepreneur you must look like one. You can either go simple or you can go fancy.
Just don't go with depressing.

And don't forget to foster palpable and benevolent changes...of clothes.

Ciao for now.

#caitlynjenner: are we more open minded or just eye-pleased?

Bosom friends!

I am sure you have all seen Caitlyn Jenner pictures by now. She looks very good and Jessica Lange has now some tough competition to deal with.

To be said that most of us are zeroing in on the way Caitlyn looks.
After her 10 hours surgery, after hair and make up, after Annie Leibovitz professionally draped her to capture her transformation results and after the good old airbrushing what we are left to contemplate is a very charming mature woman. A charming mature wealthy woman who could afford to look the part.
Nothing wrong with that at all.
Caitlyn finally is doing her own thing and no amount of K or C (or whatever the trending letter is) will tarnish her undeniably brave leap into freedom, honesty and self acceptance.

What I wonder is if we would have been as accepting of such individual if the transformation wouldn't have been as successful or as tastefully portrayed by Vanity Fair.
What I am asking is, are we comfortable with Caitlyn because we truly embrace the concept of self-freedom and being true to what is in our souls or are we so enthusiastic and well-disposed because "she is who she used to be" and because her looks are eye pleasing?

I am not sure about the answer I would give.

Caitlyn gained 1 million followers on Twitter in 4 hours establishing yet another world record at the tender age of 65. But are we sure that million (now almost two) really comprehend all the ins and outs of such delicate life transition? Or are they just amused and fascinated by how fabulously Cailtyn's reveal was packaged and executed?

I have seen few transgender women since I have moved to the States (in Italy we only have two of them, not kidding. One and two.), but the man-in-a-frock kind of look I find difficult to treat as a standard one. 

There are many transgender individuals out there who have gone through the same process to become who they felt they were. Let me tell you that many of those brave people do not look or didn't have the means to look as good as Caitlyn or Laverne Cox for instance.
There are many transgender men that still do not pass for actual women and deal with that struggle on a daily basis. Female transitioning into male as well.
I am not saying that I am above this whole exterior appearance stuff. God forbid. I am only questioning if we are all becoming more open minded because of such examples like Caitlyn's or are we just fine with it because there is no trace of grotesque or unfinished exterior appearance?

Are we actually seeing what Caitlyn really represent in terms of social and human progress or are we just pleased with how comfortable her amazing looks makes us feel?

Sleep on that one.

Ciao for now.

Caitlyn is free.

Bosom friends!

JUNE?!?!
Seriously.
May I have May back? For a week at least?
I suppose not.

It's the usual shit. Times flies by and our last dose of Botox is already starting to wear off. Joy to the world we are not getting any younger. Or wiser for that matter.

This past weekend hubby and I didn't live the vida loca at all.
We gathered our thoughts and spent some quiet time on the couch with a crappy movie and one too many vodka tonics.

As per our calendar suggestion we are keeping calm and staying classy...

To start off the month properly or at least to get over the shock of having completely missed the previous one let's all rejoice about Kim Kardashian West second pregnancy. The amazingly talented Mrs West is expecting her second child from the "Genius" and since she is the only woman on the planet able to produce eggs and get them fertilized with sperm I think we should proclaim a world wide bank holiday on this remarkable day. I am sure the women of Malawi are not impressed by this news.
Procreation is way overrated. As children are. Go ahead and hate me.

What is remarkable is the fact that Bruce Jenner eventually is no more. Literally.

Meet Caitlyn Jenner, Vanity Fair’s July cover star. Pulitzer Prize–winning contributing editor and author of Friday Night Lights Buzz Bissinger, who was given unfettered access to Jenner and her family, chronicles the tensions, traumas, and courage that shaped Caitlyn into the woman you see today. Annie Leibovitz shoots the first portraits of Caitlyn, which were taken in her Malibu home.
Jenner speaks movingly about her journey, telling Bissinger, “If I was lying on my deathbed and I had kept this secret and never ever did anything about it, I would be lying there saying, ‘You just blew your entire life.’ ”

Go to the Vanity Fair web site and take a look at the behind the scene video.

Caitlyn looks very well put together and I find her already way more interesting than the rest of her family.
Of course being photographed by Annie Leibovitz and having access to great make-up peeps and stylists (on top of plastic surgery and all that jazz) greatly helped Bruce transforming into Cailtyn. Photoshop use was not spared either. But those are tricks used by all.

What I think is amazing is the way that this human being has turned the cheap exposure that the big K has given him into a formidable platform from where launch such enterprise.

Finally what's inside his mind matches what she sees reflected into the mirror.

Bruce may have won a gold medal but Caitlyn for sure has done something that took way more courage and guts.
Caitlyn has accomplished something that will hopefully change people's view over such a delicate and (unfortunately) uncomfortable matter.

She is embracing who she is completely and without restrains.
She lives in her truth.

She set herself free and that is the highest of the achievements.

Welcome to this world world Caitlyn.

Ciao for now.

The bees are dying but the Kardashians are all alive and well.

Bosom friends!

Today Kylie Jenner is making headlines for posting an image supporting 'Chemtrails' Conspiracy to Twitter.

The image claims cloud plumes caused by plane contrails are actually chemicals responsible for mass bee deaths.

 9 million followers exposed to such poorly spelled and written revelation.

Jenner has unknowingly stumbled into the chemtrail conspiracy theory, which dates back to August 1996, when the United States Air Force’s university, Air University, published a paper titled Weather as a Force Multiplier: Owning the Weather in 2025. Some members of society took the paper to mean that the government wanted to control the weather. A conspiracy was born.

True? False?

Many other celebrities do believe in this whole thing and the poor honey bees are paying the highest price: they are dropping like flies. 

Thank you Kylie for yet another pearl of wisdom (AKA suppository of farsightedness...).
Would you like to elaborate about this heavy topic Kylie? I am sure you would. If you could. 

On the other hand and on yet another magazine cover we have the queen bee of the Kardashian/Jenner dynasty this time unleashing her inner Marilyn Monroe.

Kim West Kardashian is featured on the cover of Vogue Brazil properly photoshopped and edited.
Groundbreaking.
Poor Marilyn Monroe has to be associated with such talent.
The magazine mentions that a wig was ordered for the shoot, but since Kim went blonde just before, it was not needed to complete her Marilyn transformation.
Such commitment to her craft.
Bleach and toner were not spared to achieve such mesmerizing metamorphosis.
Personally I don't see any resemblance with the 1950's bombshell but perhaps in Brazil they perceive such similarities differently. They see the Favelas as legit neighborhoods so I suppose the fine line between reality-show-starlet and movie-star-icon is not a big deal.
I call bullshit.
Naturally Kim also gifted us with another of her pearls of wisdom and during the interview told the magazine:
“I challenge anyone to try to do everything I do and then tell me whether or not I have talent”.
The interview also touches on her body image, career and new selfie book, Selfish.
Such achievements.
I call bullshit again.

Perhaps all the chemtrails are put out there not to take care of the bees but to alter our brain chemical balance in order to render all of the Kardashians crap irrelevant once and for all.

That is a conspiracy I would stand for.

Ciao for now.

Sing out, Louise!

Bosom friends!

I noticed that nobody gave a fuck about my down and low kind of day yesterday but as Madre Teresa used to say "Give the world the best you have and it may never be enough. Give your best anyway. For you see, in the end, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway."

So I will keep giving my best to you all anyway.
I will win you by default.
God and I will have a chat later. She is busy with much more pressing matters.

Anyways...

I have good and bad news to share.

Let's start with the shit report first. Usually you feel better after you threw up what was upsetting your stomach.
As you may know or not care I have been sending my resume to oh so many job offers I have found online. I put together a lovely motivation opening paragraph and wrote down all my previous jobs and studies. I was quite pleased reading all that I have accomplished since I became the town freak when at age nine I decided I was going to be a professional dancer.
I have traveled the world, learned as much as I could possibly have, became perfectly bilingual and gained a knowledge about entertainment in general that no kind of degree will ever replace.
Well, drum rolls, it turns out I am qualified for nothing.
Mind you I am not aiming that high, I've only applied for jobs that are either entry level or do not require a quantum physics doctorate (mainly retail, fold this shirt, bag this trousers).
But without previous folding experience I am as good as a potty untrained toddler.
I also applied for jobs in entertainment, I have so much on-stage experience I thought that that could have translated well for a behind the scene engagement. Foolish me.
I see a world full of possibilities out there (I've learned English by myself for crying out loud) but I suppose I haven't found myself in the right place at the right time yet.
Better buy a new GPS system and a strontium clock (the most accurate clock ever, won't lose or gain a second in 15 billion years - there you learned something too today...).
You are right if you thinking that I could always serve tables or clean toilets but trust me I have paid my dues many times over. For now I can still afford to keep looking and enjoy the rejection that comes with it. Cleaning bathrooms and waiting tables will always be in demand.

So me good for nothing for the time being.

And now for the good news.

Remember that audition I wrote about? Click here and catch up!

I auditioned for CircX.
I put on three inches of makeup and six inches heels and sang for them the way that I always have in the privacy of my own mind-theater. I did not expect such a good reaction but long story short I will be performing in this company next show at the Gleason Room - Backstage at The Fillmore in South Beach on the 26th and 27th of June.
I will be the first and last act featured in this production.
Me open and close a show with a solo? Don't mind if I do.

I won't spoil the whole surprise but I will be singing in my operatic voice two gorgeous arias one by Puccini and one by Offenbach. Oh and yes, I will look stunning while doing it.
The whole show will be quite risque and I will be the pinch of class that CircX requires for its innovative entertainment recipes.

CircX is a traveling performance troupe and production company based out of Miami Florida. Directed By Diana Lozano, each performance is dedicated to creating unique, cutting edge interactive entertainment. From the premier night clubs to Fortune 500 companies, CircX has accumulated an impressive clientele list including, Mercy Hospital, Bacardi, Mac Cosmetics, Heineken, Audi, and the Adrienne Arsht Performing Arts Center to name only a few.

Thank you Diana for trusting my talent.

Make sure you get your tickets for one of the shows!!!
Friday June 26th one show only @ 9 PM,
Saturday June 27th early show @ 7.30 PM and late show @ 10.30 PM.
Click on this link CircX TICKETS and choose between the round table seats and the general admission seats (the blue section of the seating map).
Also spread the word and make sure you do not miss CircX latest production!!!!
One Part Circus, Two Part Burlesque, A Pinch of Class, and a Dash of Trash. 

OK. Now that I have done some promoting (but don't worry I will bombard you all from now on...) this whole situation begs for a bit of a reflection.

How is it that when I put my best job-interview-outfit on and I charm the pants off the manager I am being interviewed by I get nothing? I mean I am well spoken, I have sense of style to give away for free, I am the poster gay guy when it comes to sell a life style and to inspire confidence. Thanks to the hubby I do know about costumer service and damn it any team should be so lucky to have me. Blowing my own horn ladies and gentlemen. Keeping my own parade nice and dry (don't rain on my parade reference, Funny Girl? Come on...!)
I must be doing something wrong.
Or perhaps (fairly certain actually) there will always be somebody with more experience than me running for the same position.

And how is it that when I dress like a freak and sing like Maria Callas I get noticed?
Could that be a career choice? 
Should that be a career choice?
Would that be a career choice?

Coulda Shoulda Woulda.

For now just make sure you get your tickets to go and see CircX and myself at the Fillmore so you can let me know if I should really consider waiting tables and sing only while scrubbing a toilet bowl.

Ciao for now.

The sound of silence.

Bosom friends!

Bitchy Tuesday should be back....

The fact that I have a ton of laundry to get done is not conducive to a good mood either and what is trending right now on line really just makes me wanna pop a Xanax and watch Sex and the City from season one to six.

Plus my head is feeling completely empty just like Paris Hilton's.

So for today I've chosen to keep my mouth shut and let a beautiful silence nurture us.

If you have nothing nice to say then say nothing.

I will follow that mantra for today.

Keeping my mouth zipped.

Ciao for now.

Ps: you are more than welcome to beg me to start writing my intelligent and witty posts and to check that all hope has not gone lost...

Mariah? I don't Care-y anymore.

Bosom Friends!

I know I am bit late but I will join the Bill Board Awards bitch fest today.
Better late than never.

We all knew who was going to walk away with the most Top-of's.
National Treasure Taylor Swift and newly slimmed down and on the road to recovery Sam Smith took home basically all the top acknowledgements of the night.
Taylor was sporting a white jump suit and gray-ish green-ish hair color and premiered her new video for her new song. Bad blood and bad ass warrior chicks to the front of the line please.
Sam thanked his fans on a mute video in witch he showed us a series of written messages since he is not allowed to talk after his vocal chord surgery. Sweet boy but he could have made an effort to look a bit more presentable. His voice is at rest but his stylist should have remained fully functional...

I don't think I saw anything groundbreaking during this year show.

- Britney lipsynched her new single with Iggy Azalea - groundbreaking;

- Taylor Swift looked awkward (yet beautiful) in her new high-end music video - groundbreaking;

- Some of the Kardashian-Jenner family were there regardless their lack of contribution to the music industry whatsoever - groundbreaking;

- Kanye Genius West gifted us with some more mastermind wizardry...groundbreaking;

But let's talk about the elephant in the room. Finally Mariah Carey returned to the Bill Board stage after 17 years.
Boy oh boy.
What can I say.
She shouldn't have.
I understand that she has yet another #1 hits album out and a two years residency in Las Vegas to promote but this live performance was very much like bad publicity more than anything else.
Actually it was like watching a car crash happening, you are fairly sure of the outcome and you know it won't be good news but you still can't help but keep your focus on the action even thought the result won't be pleasant.
Have you seen Mariah's latest album cover? I am all up for some good old hair-brushing. Fix a blemish, smooth some wrinkles. But don't blatantly lie to me! Miss Carey is an attractive woman and it would be so amazing if she would just own up to the fact that she looks the way she looks. That album cover is not enhanced, it is a total lie. There she was onstage looking like the inflated version of herself. Not because she was unpleasantly put together but only because our term of paragon were all those damn promotional pictures for her album and Vegas residency. See for yourself.

Album cover...

Live Performance...

Hmmm...spot the differences...

However the most painful thing was listening to the once upon a time powerhouse that was Carey.
Don't get me wrong I LOVED her for most of my life. For a while she was invincible and she had an amazing career to prove it. Her voice (now only her recordings) still makes me a little bit gayer every time I indulge in my guilty pleasure of working out while listening to the 90's and early 2000's Mariah.
During Carey's performance at the Bill Board Awards I only felt very sad. Her voice is gone and it's not coming back any time soon. What she sang live was barely decent and all of the high notes and her signature whistle-like finale were all together manufactured and prerecorded. You can argue as much as you like but you will never convince me that any of those crystal clear notes she hits nowadays are coming out of her mouth. It is sad and disappointing. And it keeps happening...I have not forgotten her less than pleasant rendition of "All I want for Christmas" from the last Rockefeller Plaza Holidays show. I prefer to watch her great past live performances. Period.
There is such a thing as knowing when it's time to become smarter about career decisions.
Mariah has the status to be a great attraction in Vegas but unfortunately she doesn't have the goods to backup her diva rank.
For instance the other night at the finale of Dancing with the Stars Patty LaBelle (now 70) gave us an unbelievable LIVE performance of "Two Steps Away". YOU MUST HEAD TO THIS LINK AND LISTEN!!!!

She is a diva because no matter how much of a bitch she may be she still has an incomparable instrument to rub in your face: her VOICE.
Mariah shouldn't have any excuse. If she is going to put a whole parade together to promote her new enterprise she should have more to offer than her past glories.
The New York Times basically killed the opening night of her show in Las Vegas (May 6).
Here below the worst-best lines from the article:

Ms. Carey is still durable, and sometimes excellent, but her once-transcendent voice is like decaying manufacturing machinery: It still churns, but the product might be polished or dinged.

When it came to the notes, though, the struggle was real. From the beginning of the night, she was tentative and inconsistent. She sang parts of several songs an octave lower than the recordings.

“Fantasy” featured Ol’ Dirty Bastard, who died in 2004, rapping via video, and he felt more alive than Ms. Carey, who was right there onstage.

She stood the most still when she was aiming the highest: not for the run-of-the-mill big notes, but the stratospheric ones that made her untouchable 25 years ago. She has a routine. Before she sings them, she pauses for a bit, puts her hand to her eardrum, then points to the sky as the laserlike shrieks come out.

All those gestures were there during this show. But as the night wore on, it became increasingly unclear whether the sounds coming through the speakers were coming from her mouth. They were crisp and clean, while many of her lesser notes were gruff and unsteady. It’s more probable that to fail at those places would have been too great a tragedy to bear.

And so went this show, which was far more about defense than offense. Whether the decision to undertake this project was born of necessity, hubris or obliviousness, it has put Ms. Carey in a precarious position — she is in decline and trapped in a cage of her own making. It would be so much easier to turn away if the spotlight weren’t so bright.

Mind you Mariah still have 50 something shows to get herself through. By the way she already cancelled one because of "bronchitis"...and it won't be rescheduled.

It's true what some say:

better retire while you are still on top. 

The higher you are the greater the fall. And I am not talking about notes.

Ciao for now.

Welcome to the HOUSE.

Bosom friends!

I have to apologize for neglecting you a little this past few days.

In all honesty I was recovering from a very fun night I spent with hubby and HT (our friend with the right disposition) at a club literally two blocks away from our apartment.

I had to retreat into my sanctuary and watch Sunset Boulevard on a loop to put all the pieces back together.

I am now fully recovered if we don't consider the pain that the high heels has inflicted onto my poor toes. But hey, no pain no gain, right?

Anyhow.

Last Saturday hubby felt the need to shake his booty after a very busy work week. Let our hair down and put our hands up in the air kind of affair.
Since we wanted to try a new place we opted to grace with our presence HOUSE Nightclub.

I am not exaggerating when I tell you that we are basically neighbours to this place located at 1915 NW Miami Ct. Our Uber ride was only $4. We could have walked but these heels aren't made for walking and that's just what they will do, take a Uber to travel 0.3 mile.

Since the HOUSE Saturday night is called "My Rules Saturday" and they have a strict dress code I decided to take Prima Donna out for a stroll.
At HOUSE they encourage creative couture, from sexy pajamas to leather to pink panties. DRESS UP TO DRESS DOWN. Save the tank tops and tennis shoes for the beach, or prepare to have them removed.
While waiting to be be escorted to our VIP table (the table was actually a huge bed with black velvet covers) I managed to glance at a few bubble butts proudly displayed by some party goers.
That did look very promising indeed.
Once we made it inside I was happy to notice that this club was not your average skanky gay night hang out. The interiors are very well put together and the decor has nothing to envy to those honestly overrated clubs in South Beach. HOUSE looks very classy and edgy at the same time with a touch of unexpected madness that only makes you even more eager to find out what they have in store next.
The fact that they have a strict no pictures policy inside should prepare you for a place where boundaries are to be left at the entrance door. Nevertheless HOUSE entertainment never becomes a cheap or trashy spectacle and all you have to do is to feast your eyes on those gorgeous entertainers and bar tenders wearing little to nothing.
Every detail at HOUSE is well thought and the reining atmosphere is cool and very modern yet sexy and decadent.
HOUSE doesn't like labels at all, it's not a gay club, it's not a straight club.
HOUSE it's an experience club. (By the way this line is my own, House if you want it give me a call...)
Almost forgot, you can even get your own personal key to the HOUSE...it's up to you to find out how...
I won't get into too many details, you must try HOUSE first hand.

As usual I was a success with my look...if you don't put in account that infamous pageant when my undergarments and back fat were analyzed under a microscope.
This time around I truly embrace the assignment: my rules Saturday.

I put together a very androgynous look by wearing a tuxedo jacket and bow tie, no fake tits, no wig, just a flawlessly painted face, black fishnets and patent leather high hells.
I felt comfortable and confident as I have never felt before. Mind you my toes are still numb from the shoes but at least I didn't have to battle with hair getting on my lipstick and undergarment wires digging their own grave into my ribcage. There was still pain involved into looking drop dead gorgeous but after the first couple of compliments I didn't give a fuck about imminent bunions.

I have to admit that I did have a bit of an agenda going to such a club all done up ready for the kill. I knew that someone involved in the entertainment side of things for HOUSE was going to be there and I did hope to "accidentally" bump into that someone. And so I did. Indeed.

I have an audition with the House Master of HOUSE club tomorrow.  

It's All About Eve bosom friends...

Ciao for now.

From lemons to Limoncello.

Bosom Friends!

Yesterday I went to my first audition in a VERY long time.

I have never particularly enjoyed auditions.
If you are lucky you feel like a piece of meat ready to be chosen by a costumer at a butchery.
In any case showbiz wouldn't exist without auditions and rich Jewish patrons, so when life trows you lemons you better make Limoncello with them and drink your way to your goals.

I took all the lemons that I got thrown at during the last pageant I competed in and I just decided to do what I love doing: painting my face and singing a bit of opera arias. (check my The Chronicles of Pageant to find out all that went down that infamous night.)

I turned my lemons into something nicer by inventing this new character.
I put on my face, full make up and all, but I only wear a demure tuxedo and patent leather high heels.
Red nails and wedding black diamond to finish the look.

On my way to the theater.

Most important thing I sing like I always have since I found out I had the ability to force my voice into sounding very much like an operatic diva.

The audition took place at the Fillmore theater in South Beach. By the way that place is a gem!
Circx  (a traveling performance troupe and production company based out of Miami) was looking for new talents to add to their portfolio for an upcoming show they are putting together (26th and 27th of June, get your tickets!).
I cannot tell you how wonderful it was just walking into a theater from a backstage door. Seeing a stage from the only angle I have seen one for many years felt so damn right. Being a performer you get to see the sides of a stage with all its ropes and curtains. An audience only get to see what we want it to see.
As I said it felt just right.

My view from the wings at Fillmore.

Before my performance auditioned a belly dancer, an improv street style dancer, a girl who juggled things on fire (only they were not on fire right then and there for safety issues...) and some other acrobats of some sort.
As usual I stuck out like a sore thumb. I was the tallest and most done up of the whole lot.
Luckily my face didn't melt under the ferocious Miami sun even after I had to get off and back on the car three times to find the right entrance and having to ask to non English speaking valet parking hombres where the hell I could park without getting towed. A drag queen at two in the afternoon under an African sun trotting around in heels for sure left an ever lasting impression. I wish I had a photographer following me around to capture the singular situation I manage to get myself into. If you know of anybody interested...

Finally I got to sing my song.
I chose Giacomo Puccini's O Mio Babbino Caro from the short opera Gianni Schicchi.
Google it, I am sure you must have heard it one way or the other.

It felt so good standing in the middle of a stage and sing that beautiful aria.
Even if I was singing to an empty theater I loved every moment of it. The beautiful crystal chandelier inside the house were listening quietly and perfectly still.
I sang and listened to my voice for the first time reverberating inside a theater. Every word meant something more so since I was singing in my mother tongue, beautiful Italian.
Two and half minutes of bliss.

The founder and director of Circx was very happy with my performance.
More importantly I was reminded that all I have to do is to remain true to what I love and the result can only be a positive one.

I have no idea if this audition will lead to anything but those few moments I was gifted on the Fillmore stage were all I need to turn all the lemons I collected into delicious Limoncello.

Ciao for now.

Don't cry me a river.

Bosom friends!

A little bit of silly today for you all.

Does anybody remember my piece about Dancing With The Stars?
Here is the link in case you have missed it: Dancing With the Stars.

We are now close to the end of the competition and the show has become hubby and I guilty pleasure for the past few months.
Yes it is rather cheesy and very politically correct, but DWTS is like the costumes all the female dancers wear: deliciously over the top.

However today the attention is not focused on the remaining contestants. At least not directly.

On Monday night, Army veteran and "Dancing with the Stars" semifinalist Noah Galloway proposed to his girlfriend Jamie Boyd live after he performed to David Cook's "Time of My Life." Erin Andrews was standing nearby when it all went down and this the face that was caught on camera:

Don't confuse Erin Andrews' crying with an eye roll. 
Us Weekly noted that Twitter users were criticizing the co-host for "looking more than annoyed" during the surprise romantic moment. TMZ claimed she was rolling her eyes.
Andrews, however, was just trying to hold back her tears. 

To be said that when a cry face is ugly it's a thing to treasure. Let's put aside whatever causes the crying. There are some ugly cry faces out there and there is nothing wrong with that. We cannot help the way we cry. Cry should be a freeing act, we are getting reed of an emotion to big for us to keep inside. Crying is a perfect remedy just like eating a shit load of fattening food. As long as we do it every once in a while it can only help to put out there our uncontainable feelings. Like my granny used to say for bodily gas: better out than in. Crying is as physiological as any flatulence, we must let it happen no matter how ugly it may look or sound (or smell).

Obviously TMZ had to create a silly story around a girl trying not to cry her eyes out live on national TV. TMZ is the devil. Period. They are the ones who were cracking jokes about Bruce Jenner first attempts at his imminent transition. What a delightful bunch.

Poor Erin is a lovely gal, they even figured out a good hair style for her (EVENTUALLY!). Yes she can be a bit awkward at times but so can Taylor Swift on heels.
Erin was not rolling her eyes, she was just feeling emotional over such a lovely proposal. Mind you she even had to keep holding the microphone in front of Noah during the whole thing. Have you ever been a third wheel? I have. It is as comfortable as a 12 hours flight in coach with a screaming baby next row over.

Besides, even if Erin really rolled her eyes for a split second who are we to judge? A surprise live TV broadcast marriage proposal can turn out being rather uncomfortable especially if you are the tall blond girl in a puffy sparkly dress who ends up being the involuntary master of ceremony. Perhaps she thought "here we go, never the bride always the bridesmaid". We are entitled to our feelings people! Erin did not kill a puppy on live television, let's get some perspective here...

I say good for you Erin for keeping it together and for gifting us with such a lovely ugly cry face.

At the end of the day the bedazzled dancing competition is a guilty pleasure and as such we better embrace its campy and sometimes awkward style. Rhinestones, sequins, feathers and tears.

Ciao for now.

Welcome to Me. 100 times Me.

Bosom friends!

We made it to 100 posts!

Indeed this is the 100th mixture of rumbling, preaching and (hopefully) witty writing I am going to send out in this huge void that is the Internet.

It's a milestone and as such it deserves a little reflection.
A blog is very often about personal views and opinions. I tell to who cares what I have been up to, I share how I feel about whatever attracts my attention and I try to describe the mess that is my train of thought.

This pats weekend I watch the movie Welcome to Me.  Bare with me, I have got a point.
Alice (Kristen Wiig from Bridesmaids) is a woman with severe personality disorders who wins the lottery and stops taking her medication in order to pursue her dream of making her own talk show (in which she relives the most painful moments of her past, cooks food, takes naps, and neuters animals). Things go exactly as badly as you think they will.

This movie is not one of those mega productions with box office royalty all wrapped up in superheros costumes. No.
It’s not an easy sell to audiences, except that it’s wonderful and funny and heartbreaking in so many ways you rarely get from mainstream cinema.
It's a lovely comedy-drama with great characters and a super performance by Kristen Wiig. 

I am sure most of you will find this story a bit strange but this is exactly the kind of movie I am crazy about (pun intended).
Films about mental illness deal with touchy subject matters to begin with. When the film is a comedy the fine line between mockery and heartfelt portray becomes even thinner.
Welcome to Me manages to walk this fine line like a dexterous tightrope walker.

What I loved the most about this movie is how it sets up a scenario where you think you’re going to be laughing at this woman and her behavior, but that’s not really how it plays out.  
Alice is indeed mentally disturbed. 
When she needs to say something important she actually writes it down before hand and when she is about to deliver it in a speech she starts by saying "I have a prepared statement".
Genius. 
She hasn't turned off her TV in 11 years.
She writes a check for 15 million dollars to a tiny network so that they will have the funds to produce her own talk show. Alice wants it to be just like Oprah's talk show (by the way she has all the bog O's episodes on tape and knows them by heart - word by word). 
The only difference is she won't have guests or a different topic to tackle every day. No. 
Alice will have two hours live on the air daily and she will talk about herself. 
The one and only subject will be herself in her mentally unstable totality.
Alice talk show is called Welcome to Me.

That got me thinking.

Isn't it that what most of us are already doing thanks to the social medias and modern forms of interaction in general?

We are perpetually welcoming people (most of whom are basically strangers) into our lives.
Showing them what we look like when we wake up or when we are ready to go out, what we eat, where we go, what we are listening to. We wash our dirty laundry on FaceBook and we are more than happy to give up our privacy in the name of instant gratification, likes, followers, re-tweets.
We write about our latest colonic (sparing no details mind you) but we also make sure that our last Instagram selfie has been filtered as much as expensive vodka: to perfection.

However let me talk for myself.
It's always wiser not to generalize...

Just like Alice I share a lot of my life. It is basically all out there, Grinder smoldering profile pic included. If you have the time and the will to read or at least click on my post's links you should have a pretty accurate idea of what the hell I have been up to not only since I moved to Miami but even further back.
The only difference between Alice and I is that she has no filter. She is not able to mitigate her emotions when they take over. In other words she is completely transparent. Her mind is not capable of triggering only the socially approved amount of emotions. Alice just let it rip. 

Alice talks exclusively about herself during her talk show. She goes as far as investing millions of dollars to enable herself to be the center of the universe for tow hours at the time on live TV. 
I write to achieve that.
I post lovely pictures to achieve that.
I check-in on FaceBook to achieve that.
I tweet to achieve that...the list could go on and I could also easily substitute the "I" with "WE" and I would be rather accurate as well. 

But Alice is mad. She has an excuse to be so blatantly egocentric. 
What is my/our excuse? 
Where is this all leading to?

Heavy shit I tell you.

On a lighter note Alice loves swans and walks around under a tiny parasol. 
I loved swans so much as a child I managed to be cast as the lead in The Ugly Duckling on my first year in elementary school (the lead was always reserved for the fifth year kids). I loved swans so much that I eventually got bitten by one of them at a public park since I tried to pet them while they were minding their own business in the pond. My left index finger was not pleased.

Regarding the parasol I won't need to waste a word. I will only post these pics:

True story...

I do find Alice's idea for a talk show rather amazing and if any of you should have a few million dollars to spare I would be more than happy to present this format to any cable Network willing to transform me into Welcome to Me. 

You are welcome.

Ciao for now.

False Idols.

Bosom friends!

Here we go again and again and again.

I am very relieved to finally learn that Kylie Jenner's lips are in fact filled up just like a Krispy Kreme doughnut. As you see the K curse is still alive and kicking. Kylie Krispy Kreme Kardashian Jenner.

In the sneak peek to this Sunday's brand new Keeping Up With the Kardashians, Kylie admits, "I have temporary lip fillers, it's just an insecurity of mine and it's what I wanted to do."
She adds that being in the spotlight isn't easy and "Everyone always picks us apart." Because of the extreme scrutiny she's always under she explains, "I want to admit to the lips, but people are so quick to judge me on everything, so I might have tiptoed around the truth, but I didn't lie."


I am enlightened by such wisdom and farsightedness.

The whole family talks abut it like they were discussing what happened in Nepal. They all treat the issue as if they were planning to go and build a new orphanage in Haiti.

At Kylie's age the only thing I wanted to get bigger was my monthly allowance.

We all go through those damn teen years, some of us come out of them alive, some of us carry that baggage for years and some others surface from that phase with plumper lips and some not so well deserved publicity.
Kylie is the perfect example that you don't cure your insecurities by fixing the way you look. That can perk you up temporarily (pun intended) but the real work needs to be done by facing our weaknesses and anxieties.
Papa don't preach, I'm in trouble deep
Papa don't preach, I've been losing sleep.

On the other hand we have a lady who is so secure of herself and so well established that she can afford to call an Academy Award (AKA Oscar) a false idol.
I am talking about Natalie Portman. Yes, the Oscar winner for Black Swan. She said she doesn't exactly know where the golden statue is located in her house but for sure she is not going to display it since she recently realized that worshipping a fake idol is not something she is going to endorse.
In her own words:

"I don't know where it is, I think it's in the safe or something. I don't know. I haven't seen it in a while. I was reading the story of Abraham to my child and talking about, like, not worshipping false idols. And this is literally like gold men. This is lit­er­ally worshipping gold idols — if you worship it. That's why it's not displayed on the wall. It's a false idol."

Fair enough.
I am sure there are many of her colleagues who would sell their first born for an Oscar but I suppose once you actually get that kind of acknowledgment over your career the trophy that comes with it becomes nothing more than a dust-collecting-false-idol.

Good for you Natalie.

My sole encounter with Natalie happened at the Venice airport in Italy. She was leaving the floating city after the Film Festival and I was leaving after the I-never-see-enough-of-you Festival hosted by my mother.
At that point Natalie already had Black Swan under her belt and a baby in the oven. I didn't know about the baby. The rest of the world didn't. Maybe she didn't even know back then. Such a mesmerizing detail...
Anyway.
Since the hubby is a huge fan of frigging Star Wars I very discreetly and politely approached her just to tell her that my husband loved the saga in which she played Queen Padme Amidala. Then I would have told her that I loved her in a kind of unknown movie called Closer. Then I would have told her that the hubby made me sit through all three of the Star Wars new episodes and that I was so glad she was in those movies because she was the only reason why I managed to suffer through them. Then we would have had a giggle together, perhaps she would have whispered in my ear "nobody knows but I am pregnant" I would have told her Mazel Tov and I would have cherished that rendezvous for the rest of my life.
Instead as soon as I said "Natalie I don't mean to disturb you" she looked at me like a reindeer in headlights, then she looked at her body guard (who was the size of the Hulk minus the green complexion) and I only manged to say "We love you". Creepy enough...we??? Who's we? Myself and the voices in my head? I meant hubby and I...poor me... At that point she looked at me like I had a freshly laid poo on my head and said "oh, that's nice, thank you".

That is how I managed to spook Queen Padme Amidala.

The "force" was not with me at all.

Ciao for now.