Hump Day Inspiration:

At least you aren't...

Trying to compete with James Franco

I bet he killed that with his BEAR hands... no?

It's common knowledge that Holly and I share and undying love of James Franco, a love so intense and undying it shines like a thousand suns, a love so unifying we've promised each other (pre-boyfriends) that if, for any reason James Franco ever came into our lives and had trouble choosing between us, that we would whole heartedly enter into a "Big Love"-esque mormon family bond with him.

There's enough to go around.

You see, Franco isn't just your every-day, Hollywood foxy (or fozzy) smoke-dog who strolls onto a movie set, reads a few lines then retreats to his Malibu home and does drugs with Lindsay Lohan. I mean, he may do these things, who knows, but besides that, he's so much more!

James Franco was on "Freaks and Geeks", remember how awesome that show was?!

Oh, too bad the rest of the cast and the creator were never heard from again.

Then he was in all the Spider Man's, and he played a villain, but a totally hot one (I think). Then, and I'm reading his imdb page, here, this isn't memorized, he was in some movie called "You Only Stalk the Ones You Love", which I've never heard of, but will probably try and Netflix.

We took this when we were stalking...

He was in "Pineapple Express" (aka "Smoking High" in Japan... thanks imdb), where he proved he was funny. He played Harvey Milk's boyfriend in "Milk" and we totally saw his butt in that. He played Allen Ginsberg in "Howl". And THEN starred in a season of "General Hospital" which he did as some sort of hyper-meta performance art piece, as he was playing a painter while he was actually preparing for a gallery show opening of his own. Thats right, James Franco paints! Only while he's not hosting SNL, and actually being quite funny.

At the "FRANCO" exhibit

Good luck, every other guy on the planet.

Want to know what else James Franco does? He gets a creative writing MFA from Columbia, while studying film making at NYU. And want to know what happens when James Franco writes a short story? It's printed in Esquire (http://www.esquire.com/fiction/james-franco-fiction-0410) And it doesn't even suck that bad!

As if all this weren't enough today we found out that James Franco is going to get his PhD. at YALE next year, not that that's a big deal or anything.

So today, we'd like to dedicate our Humpday to you, any human who is trying to compete in "hotness combined with awesomeness" with James Franco. You loose. I bet he volunteers at the Ronald McDonald House on the weekends and is totally into puppies and listening to me complain about my job, too.

Dr. Franco, you know where to find us.

Forever your girl,

Paige

WEEKENDNESS!

...and also what is on my mind

So today is my last day working for my current job, where I have been working for a year and a half. People keep asking me if I'm sad or excited, and if I'll miss them. There has been some office whispering which I hope means someone is bringing in pizzas for lunch or cupcakes or Starbursts or something. I am wondering if I should just leave all my office swag here (pictures of friends and family, a beagle magnet) as a shrine. So today's post could easily be about all of this last day of my first real job, but I really don't care that much. Seriously, I didn't even wear a bra today, I have other things on my mind:

-a lamb craving

yum!

-if George Clooney has dumped his current girlfriend yet

-my new Degree Girl "Just Dance!" deodorant that has a pink glitter cap

-the fact that that Beyonce might be pregnant

-the fact that I am going to a Perpetual Groove concert tonight with my boyfriend and couldn't name a Perpetual Groove song if I had a knife to my throat

A Perpetual Groove show...

-the fact that that all of my friends are going to Anchor Bar where I, admittedly, know the lyrics to every Lady Gaga and T.I. song that will be played there tonight

A Lady Gaga show...

-the fact that I owe Paige 3 Push-Up Pops

-my dream last night that involved the partial nudity of male cast members of "Dancing with the Stars"

My brain power isn't quite powerful enough to compose a concise post about any of these thoughts, so instead Paige and I will give you a little weekend treat.

Paige's ex-roommate from college, Brittany, is coming for a little visit tonight. My fondest Brittany memory (that I'm aware of) is when I brought my mother into the Roxy store in Charleston, where Brittany and Paige worked. Brittany had recently adopted a black chihuahua who was appropriately named Gnarly. As a "prank" (on who, it is unclear) Brittany had glued a black hair extension track to Gnarly's head and after removal some extension glue still remained on the tiny dogs head. Instead of my mother commenting on something about gluing things to dogs' heads, she just suggested putting Goo-Be-Gone on the dogs tangerine-sized head to remove the weave by-product. Brilliant!

So, as this is a Brittany/Gnarly/Doing Weird Things With Dogs themed weekend, please enjoy this clip of de-weaved Gnarly in "robot shoes".

Everybody have great weekend! I am excited to pretend to know words to songs I have never heard before and we are all excited to see Brittany!

Forever Your Girl,

Holly

Hump Day:

At Least You Aren't an Un-famous Person Seeking a Book Deal

or, maybe you are, in which case, you'll feel our pain.

Well, as all of our faithful readers know, on Wednesdays, the hardest day of the week to survive, we like to bring you a little bit of news to brighten your gloomy, office-occupied Humpday. Normally this news is about someone who has it really rough, someone you can look at be think "I may be at my desk under fluorescent lighting, filing old faxes by date, but at least I have it better than (insert Humpday Victim here)".

Well friends, today we are attempting to enlist some personal sympathy. Sympathy for us and all the other young writers of the world who write until their hands bleed and until their eyes are twitching, those of us who scribble ideas in the night onto post-its only to wake up with notes that say something like short story idea: a girl who is pregnant with two babies from different dads AT THE SAME TIME or similar genius thought fragments.

Same uterus, DIFFERENT DADS

Those of us who have poured our hearts out onto or MacBooks, and sent our idea off to callous agents who we'll never hear from again OR agents who will tell you "I could sell this if you'd been on a reality show" (yes, this ACTUALLY HAPPENED)*. Because, dear friends, we live in a world where talent and ambition is no longer valued and the only currency is your willingness to debase yourself on national television.

Laugh it up, Conrad.

Case and point, Holly and I were horrified to find out today that coveted book deals have been granted to JWOWW and Ronnie, some of the orangest, shiniest, big-boobiest cast members of MTV's "The Jersey Shore". Oh, the HUMANITY!

Poet Laureate's of the Armpit of America

Okay, did i watch every single episode of "The Jersey Shore"? Yes, but whatever, I told myself it was zeitgeist-y performance art. Do I own a book entitled "Laguna Beach: Life Inside The Bubble"? Yeah, so what! ?I got it for Easter, like, Freshman year of college, big deal.

The Easter Bunny Did It

The POINT is that its not fair! Apparently the two have been commissioned to co-write a book entitled "Never Fall In Love at the Jersey Shore... Lest You Should Need a Perscription to Herpacin for the Rest of Your Days", ok i made that last part up. But apparently this is going to be a "How-To" book with plenty of tips and tricks to unleash your inner sweaty, juicy, drunken "guido".

First of all, I'm shocked learn that JWOWW and Ronnie are even literate, let alone able to sit down long enough, while sober to actually commit "thoughts" to paper. Also I read a statement that JWOWW wrote about the "clothing" line she's "working on" and she wrote that her clothes are very easy to "where", not "wear", where. As in "this shirt barely covers my nipples, where is the rest of the fabric?" Kind of proving my point.

Totally whereable

As for Ronnie, the only "how to" advice I'd ever take from him is "how to beat the shit out of someone who threatens you" but this is only something I should learn because sometimes I have to walk home from the subway late at night. And yes, fine I wouldn't mind reading his advice on how to make Ron Ron Juice, because it kind of looks delish and obviously makes everyone drunk enough that it doesn't really hurt when they get punched in the face.

I don't like to be a "hater", I really don't. But all I've ever wanted to be is a writer, as long as I can remember. So I really wish someone had given me the memo that said: "All you have to do to make all your writerly dreams come true is be born unto Italians, get breast implants and skunk-streak hair extensions, wear sweatpants in public, tan, avoid getting any semblance of a 'real job', dance in a scary fashion and get blackout drunk on MTV.

Instead, I followed the now-defunct memo that read: "Read big, long books whenever you can, fill hundreds of notebooks before you reach middle school, enter every writing contest ever, pay attention to details, go to college, study english, move to New York, and pray someone will like what you write."

A lot of good that's done.

So, on this Humpday, be glad you are not me or Holly, or any other young writer struggling to get their ideas out there in a world where empty, orange heads are at a premium.

She's on OUR side.

*Also, we told Joyce Carrol Oates one time how we were turned down by an agent because we'd never been on a reality show and SHE said "Thats Despicable"... did you hear that Literary world JOYCE CARROL OATES THINKS THIS IS DESPICABLE.

FOREVER Your Girl who will write for you forever,

Paige

Paige and Holly: A Margarita Story

Today, while at work of course, we have been on the search for the perfect after-work margarita. It all started with a 73 degree weather.com promise.
Chrissy came into my room this morning while i was applying CoverGirl eye shadow, that probably dates back to Britney's first hit single, saying she wasn't in the mood for the sports bar thingy she had planned for later tonight.

Tell me how you want it to be...tell me baby cuz I need to know now...oh oh ohhhh = Cover Girl "champagne" sparkly eyeshadow

I don't blame her, as we live in a house that has more appreciation for Degrassi's fake Canadian high schoolers than any sort of real sports team. I told her I was maybe going to Williamsburg to drink $4 Styrofoam margaritas while holding my boyfriends $3 beer while he played Buckhunter but wouldn't mind pregaming for such plans.

Thus starts our first margarita of the Summerish weather 2010.
Whilst spending our workday googling, "Best Cheapest Strongest Pitchers of Margaritas on the Lower East Side of NYC" we somehow found time to reminisce on our Best Cheapest Margarita in Charleston, SC days.

Which made me think of the best story, not even second to the "Kristy kicked through a chain lock in to our Scholes street apt" story, ever. I'm not sure if we have blogged this story yet, although anyone that knows either of us has heard it no less than 5 times from each of us. It goes like this (this story is better if you imagine me telling it to you in a dark closet with a flashlight under my chin):

Paige and I and some friends were having fishbowl margaritas and free chips at La Hacienda (the Best Cheapest Strongest yada yada in Charleston). Paige and I were both girl-crushing on each other pretty hard at that point, smiling and getting tingly when we would accidentally bump hands while going in for the queso at the same time.

Like Paige and I drinking a huge marg, but a little different...

Somewhere in there my ex showed up with his new girlfriend that, thinking back on it now, really resembled an adolescent Jamie Jungers (or is Jamie Jungers currently an adolescent?).

Don't text this woman/girl

Emotions started flying with the Jungers girl and the tingly queso hands and Paige and I ended up in the bathroom alone together...and the rest is sort of hazy except we are pretty sure I told Paige I wanted her to be my sister or similar and anyhow we somehow decided we'd find an apartment together in New York City after graduating.

This bathroom confessional was basically forgotten until 2 days later when Paige, Family Size Chex Mix in non-tingly hands, walked into our Religious Studies 101 (we were college seniors) announcing she had found us a glorified one bedroom in Bushwick where we could live with her High School friend that could speak to cats. Of course I accepted.
So we both liked to think that it all started with a margarita. Well, more like 15 margaritas if you count the triple fishbowls and all.

The one on the left with the maroon is where the story took place. Sorry if this picture makes you nauseous

That said, tonight we drink margaritas again, together, amongst friends. The margaritas, the queso, probably some emotional confessions will all be present. The only difference about tonight's marg consumption will be, similar to each cast of The Real World, that we have stopped being polite, and will therefore be elbowing and possibly mouth-snatching eachother's queso, rather than blushing while going in for the same cheese.

Who wouldn't fight for this?

Have a great weekend everyone!

Forever Your Girl,

Holly

Hump Day:

Happy St. Patrick's Hump Day

To most, St. Patty's day is having a Lucky Charmed breakfast, wearing a kelly green anything, and getting as drunk as Paige and I do on a Wednesday. Sure, "everyone is Irish on St. Patrick's Day", but no one really believes that. Paige is a Sullivan and I am a McManus, so one would think we would would be super-into St. Patrick's day, pounding Jameson, dressed in full leprechaun garb while dancing around on swords and wearing curly wigs. But we don't necessarily save this type of celebrating for one day a year.

Paige and I are constantly speaking in funny voices, we dance sporadically everywhere we go, we have friendly-ish knife fights (similar to Sword Dancing?), and we would both wear curly wigs if we could afford them.


But this St. Patrick's Day has, so far, gone largely unrecognized.

I woke up with a headache that I complained about and Paige woke up and went to the gym (the opposite of eating Lucky Charms). We had a decent text message argument on weather or not Atlantic City would be a safe place for me to be on my 25th Birthday (as I spent my 24th being dangerous and harmful to others). So we spent a good majority of St. Pat's looking at pictures of the pool at Harrah's Atlantic City. We also talked on the phone about how annoying all the drunk wannabe-Irish high school kids are that are wandering around Midtown post-St. Patty's day parade. (Some of these kids, are even wearing those huge cat-in-the- hat hats, in green, that were maybe "cool" for 30 seconds after Clueless came out)

Don't get us wrong, we are going to a free booze St. Paty's partay tonight. However, we would go to any "free booze" party, even if it were celebrating Bristol Palin.

St. Patty's Day pimp hats

What we mean, besides Happy St. Patrick's Day, is that us Irish girls celebrate St. Patty's day all year round and encourage other's to do the same. The Irish are known as people with "big personalities", as in the "Irish are big drinkers", the "Irish are always late", and apparently the Irish wear curly wigs and dance with swords.

So this weekend, when everyone else is wearing black and drinking Bud Light and not even thinking about swords, there is a good chance that Paige and myself will be taking shots of Jameson, dancing, and having a faux knife-fight.

Friendly knife-fighting

Again, Happy St. Patrick's Day

Forever Your Irish Girls that Have Eyes that are Smiling,

Holly and Paige


P.S. in looking for Sword Dancing, I figured out that it's Scottish, but is inspired by Irish music. So there.

Dream Jobs

When we grow up or go to Nevernever Land...

Today I quit my job. As much as I would like to say I quit to pursue writing or to help needy children or even to focus more time on my friends (like they are my children), none of this is at all true. I, instead, found a different job with more hours, more dollars, and one less F train stop in pursuing my career. I had a "test run" last Friday at a luxury magazine to make sure I was fit for the position. I really thought I had screwed up when I had to ask how to turn on the computer, however knew I had the job in the bag when my new potential boss had the pleasure of hearing me explain what a 'bacon porn' calendar is (note: March may be a BLT, while May is interlaced bacon wrapped around pork loin).

The aptly named "Bacon Explosion"

Although for the next two weeks I am still at my "job", I am still technically 'between jobs' and still feel it is only appropriate to daydream about my dream job. Actually, Paige and I do this everyday. It isn't at all weird to get a text that reads, "Ugh, how badly do you just want to be Nicole Richie's nanny?", or "Ugh, how badly do you just want to be Mary Kate's bodyguard?". The answer is always the same: "Ugh, desperately". We will see Eastern Euro man walking two maltipoos, a teacup schnauzer, and a Chihuahua and immediately look at each other knowing the other's jealousy of this dogwalker.

So in the spirit of new jobs and old jobs and dream jobs, here is a list of our favorite kind of job: The Dream Job:

Paige's Top 3:

1.) Tortured Author- Mainly because eccentric, troubled, genius, tortured authors get away with everything, sometimes even murder (I'm lookin at you, Burroughs). If I were a tortured author I could really do whatever the hell I wanted, at any time of day I desired and people would just be all like "That Tibbetts, she's a genius! Thats why she's wearing her underwear on our roof at 6 am on a Tuesday with a bottle of Sambuca and a paint-ball gun, she must be preparing for her next brilliant novel." But due to my unfortunately lovely childhood, my lack of drug addiction and the absence of genius in my writing (see: everything I've ever written) I think the option of Tortured Author is off the table.

It was an "accident"

2.) Narwhal Watcher/ Puppy Care-taker- I really love animals, mainly Narwhals and puppies of any kind. So another job I'd really like is one where I get to live on a Steve Zissou-ish submarine and study Narwhals, but only on this submarine there would be less Bill Murray and more puppies.

Okay, maybe he can stay.

3.) Owner of a restaurant that specializes on pairing adult beverages with candy- Because, duh.

Twizzler Straw

Holly's Top 3:

1. I am never a supporter of torture unless it is upon ants with a magnifying glass when I was seven and bored. So therefore I choose untortured author. The kind that writes at her grandmother's antique desk while wearing a kimono and sipping hot unsweetened tea. On a farm. A farm with goats and chickens. And writes stories that make people cry and call their mom's at the end thanking them for the gift of life so they could read my stuff. Remember, this is a DREAM job.

2. The person that describes unique and exotic cheeses for the little cards places just so on top of these cheeses. You know, a brie that isn't quite brie because it's more nutty like a pecorino but still sweet like a stilton. Dreamcheeseer.Cheesedreams.Dreamycheesy...


3. Professional gymnastics judge. Sure, I would rather watch figure skating, but this would mean logging lots of chilly hours in chilly arenas. And gymnasts walk around in skimpy 'tards so those gymnasiums must be warm. And I like gymnastics and 'tards and probably the concessions sold at those things. So yes that would be awesome.

As of right now it looks like Paige and I will have to keep dreaming of cheese and rooftop panties. But a girl can dream right? And for now, we are both English majors with English major-ish type jobs. Which is on the track to both of our #1 dream jobs. Right? Definitely.

Forever Your Girl,

Holly

Inexplicable Obsessions:

The History of the Crop Top

Starring Rose McGowen in "The Devil of the Flesh", of course.

Note: we understand this is in Portuguese but that just makes it cooler and you get the point

Last weekend Paige and I got a spring teaser, with sunny low 50's weather that allowed us to eat bucket-sized proportions of FroYo while sitting outside. We waltzed around the West Village without hats or gloves or winter coats or breath you could see. All this nice-ish weather makes us long equally for bike rides to Brighton beach, eating frozen everything, and the the nice dreams we have when a large fan is involved.

However there is one warm weather thing that takes the cake: Crop Tops.

We have been buying crop tops since December, sometimes wearing them under our matching J.Crew cardigans or just wearing them around the house to stop us from going for a second helping of Chrissy's famous triple cheese risotto. Soon, we will be wearing our crop tops, complete with pasty midriff's, out and about in public, and we cannot wait.

We feel the root of our obsession is totally obvious if you have seen "The Devil in the Flesh", but that is just us so we feel we need to go further to explain this inexplicable obession. To help our mothers, priests, and local strangers understand more about crop tops, we will so gladly give you the history.

crop tops for work

The crop top was originated off the football jersey, so for men. These men, of course, started wearing them as part of their regular outfits (like how cheerleaders in movies wear their uniforms around school but if that ever happened in a real high school people would think it was Halloween). So the 1990's come and women decide they can wear crop tops too. And then, like pants, crop tops became the norm even as evening wear. The rest is just history. See below.

90's Crop Tops at a red carpet event...

This history lesson is courtesy of Wikipedia, which also gives a crop top tip, and I quote, "An already short cropped top can be bunched upward to expose more mid-section and then tucked below the bust line". Wohoa! We will have to try that one after getting the stomach flu.

Drew likes to wear her crop to show her cool tattoo that is probably of a fairy or similar

metallic crop tops...I definitely had this single, and although the crops are great, all I see are lips

Crops are for kids

This Inexplicable Obsession is basically to show you how cool crops are and to urge you to get a few so our midriffs won't feel so alone this summer. *BONUS* crop means less material which means it's usually cheaper than your average noncropped top. So you can spend more on practical things like this.

This Inexplicable Obsession is also to urge you to go out an watch "Devil in the Flesh" so we can have something else to chat about with our family and friends and strangers we may meet who have read this post.

Forever Your Girl,

Holly

The Maturity Index:

Oscar Night Massacre that turned out okay

This week we danced, played with puppies, ate fro-yo and dealt with the Kubler-Ross Model for the stages of grief while wearing prom dresses. It was an emotional roller coaster, lets see if we handled it with maturity.

Friday:
-At work, Paige is gifted a bottle of Three Olives Orange Flavored Vodka, from The L Magazine's generous editor, Jonny Diamond- Age 24

-After work we all get ready for a night in Manhattan, we are extremely excited, like tourists (because Friday's too often are spent resting for Saturday festivities)- Age 18

-We take the train because a $15 cab sounds outrageously expensive- Age 22

-On the train we sit across from an obviously crack-fried man sprawled across three seats, we giggle nervously as he sporadically wakes up and shouts obscene comments at no one, soon a woman with a snare drum misguidedly sits across from him, banging the drum and waking him up, they fight, we get scared- Age 14 -

-We finally arrive to pre-game at our friends apartment, that is decorated almost solely with pictures of Robert Patinson- Age 12

-The four of us finish the gifted vodka- Age 19

-We go dance in the creepy caves in the basement of Lit Lounge until 3:45am- Age 21

-We drunk dial our poor, sleeping boyfriends- Age 18

Saturday:
-We had commitments to other people and therefore the only interesting things that happened were Paige discovering our roommate owns a pair of white, bedazzled, mary-jane style Sketchers, and Holly having to convince Brooklyn Bowl security she was with friends friends after she is discovered sleeping on a chair, alone- No age, just that's as cool as Saturday got.

Sunday:
-While waiting to meet up with Kristy in the West Village, we eat bagels and encourage spontaneous dog fights-Age 9

-We go to the puppy store, convince the manager that we are serious about buying a Pomeranian/Maltise (Pomertise? Maltimanian?) so he lets us play with her for about an hour.

Meet Ghost, the lovechild of the dog from The Neverending Story and a cotton ball

-We name her Ghost and let her lick our mouths- Age 10

-We learn the price of the dog is $1,100 after discount and they'll throw in a Vet visit and we all start discussing how we could "make it work"- Age 12

-Paige reminds everyone that we are not going home with a $1,100 no matter how cute the dog is or how hot the British puppy store manager is- Age 24

-We go get fro-yo at Philio Yogurt where we mix all the flavors and put on an amount of topings that would induce a diabetic coma. Holly eats hers then finishes Paige's- Age 13

Half fruity, half chocolatesprinkleredvelvetcupcakebatterpeanutbuttercupbrownie

-We go to French Connection where we admire the $400 dresses, but Holly just buys a sparkle-swan necklace thats on sale for $5-Age 12

We sit at Paige's boyfriends cafe and contemplate what we'll purchase with our upcoming Tax Returns- Age 40

-While passing the store "Evolution" on Spring St. Paige notices a narwhal tusk in the window, decides this is what she'll buy with her tax return- Age 17 (and bizzare)

-Holly is on a desperate mission to buy a white, pleather, mini- backpack she saw online at Topshop- Age 12

Need. Neeeeeeeed

-At TopShop we look on with jealousy as our rich, nanny roommate buys shoes that cost (way) more than our normal $30 shoe budget- Age 15

-Holly can't find mini backpack and spends the rest of the afternoon pouting and is especially depressed as Paige cannot stop making fun of mini backpack obession- Age 6

-We decide to head back to Brooklyn and buy supplies for our "Oscar Party"- Age 45

- At Met we buy culturally-ambitious supplies:

-Holly buys gear to make thai-peanut noodles- Age 43

-Paige buys supplies to make pesto and parmesan crostini's- Age 32

-Kristy buys ingredients for Coco-Crispy Treats- Age 10

I'm sure that's what my parents had in mind when they bought me that laptop

-Holly also buys Cadbury egg candies, she feeds them to Paige and Kristy, noting "I feel like I'm a Momma bird and you are my baby birds and I'm feeding you.... eggs...." we all get a little upset thinking about this - Age 10

-At home we resort to watching the incredibly unattractive cast of The Real World: DC, because nothing else is on- Age 19

-We puttz around the kitchen, making food and wagering on who will win what Oscars- Age 45

- It's almost time! We prepare ourselves to "authentically" enjoy the Oscars by each putting on "ball gowns", Paige wears an old prom dress and Holly wears "H&M Couture" with Uggs and clip on earrings that are the ones the winner of Pretty Pretty Princess gets- Age 8

-We watch the E! red carpet interviews, we make fun of spray tans (Matt Damon), give our enlightened opinions on who's dress is great (Sarah Jessica Parker) and who's dress makes their boobs look crazy (Charlize Theron) and who needs to work on their posture (Miley irus)- Age 24

-At the strike of 8 o'clock... the moment we've been waiting 12 months for! We flip to ABC only to find that ABC has been pulled off the air by CableVision. We can't believe it. We enter the 5 stages of grief:

-Denial, "This cant possibly be happening, we are in PROM DRESSES!"

Anger, "Why are they doing this to us?! What did we ever do to ABC?! I'm going to kill someone".

Bargaining, "If we to go the soccer bar up the street dressed like this, maybe we can convince them to let us watch the Oscars there".

Depression, "I just want to take the rest of these thai noodles and eat them in bed listening to Elliott Smith".

And, acceptance "I mean, we can just watch the highlights on the news tomorrow" and istead turn on a show titled, "Priests"- Age 50

-After we come to grips with what has happened we sit, gowned, in a girlpile and stuff our faces with what should have been our Oscar Party food for a full hour- Age 23

-Only to then recieve a text that ABC and CableVision have struck a last minute deal and we once again get ABC, cry a little bit, what an emotional roller coaster, girlpile and oscar "gowns" are adjusted, everyone gets serious about Oscar watching and is thankful about keeping updo's despite Oscar trauma- Age 30

-Enjoy the witty repartee between hosts Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin, cry a little at the John Huges tribute, and get really pumped that "The Hurt Locker" kicked "Avatar"s ass. Remark that everything seems to work out in the end, hug each other and go to bed- Age 24

In the end we were 21.3 years old this past weekend. Life can get pretty hard at times, but really all you can do is sit with your friends, eat some cocoa krispies in a prom dress and hope for the best. Next weekend: a visitor from Paige's past and a good-bye fette.

Oscar Day Itinerary

It's no secret that Paige and myself love love award shows. What's not to love? They are a great excuse to eat a bunch of junk food while drinking cocktails for hardly any reason at all. They make it seem like watching hours of non-CNN television seem like an event, like we are DOING something. Lets also not forget that after a hungover brunch that hopefully consists of French fries we aren't always very sure of what to do with ourselves. Having an "event" to "attend" gives our Sunday a purpose.
If you haven't heard, this Sunday is the award show of award shows: The Oscars. Our award show party needs to be that of Oscar-caliber and must be well-thought out and planned, just like, oh say, Sandra Bullock needs to plan out her Oscar day.
Here is our Oscar Day itinerary:

6:30am Kristy wakes up everyone in the house via crawling into bed and cuddling
6:42am Kristy realizes this really isn't appreciated yet and goes to her own room
6:45am Kristy is able to fall back asleep
7:25am Holly/Paige are finally able to fall back asleep
8:45am Everyone girlpiles on the couch to recap Saturday night, arguments about coffee brand and strength ensue
9:00am fingers crossed for Degrassi
11:00am Everyone heads to get brunchy food that needs to include French fries for Holly
11:12am Discussion on what sort of Oscar party food we will devour...Avatartes? The Blind Sliders? A Single Flan? James Camerones?

Oscar Ava'tartare'

11:30am Paige eats her fries with mustard
12:00am We decide to go to Bleeker St to take our mind off of the coming night's excitement
12:30 Go to Marc by Marc Jacobs an elbow tourists while looking at handbags we won't be able to afford unless we win an Oscar one day
1:00pm We start second guessing some of our Oscar picks so get a pick-me-up, pay-what-it-weighs-FroYo

1:30pm We all start freaking out we might miss one second of one of Ryan Seacrests awkward red carpet interviews and decide we need to shop for our Oscar Apps
2:15pm Walk around the fabulous Met Supermarket in Clinton Hill shopping for peanut butter, marshmallows, Dumps, candy corn, ingredients for meatballs, etc.

The ever-so-quaint Met Foods in Clinton Hill

2:40pm We all start freaking out we might miss one of Miss Jay's red carpet makeovers to make some poor girl look like Kristen Stewart and hurry our asses home

3:00pm We put on Madonna's "Vogue" and start getting red carpet-ready
3:02pm Dancing in our own respective "gowns" ensues
3:10pm Kristy gives us red carpet Updo's that rival those that will be madeover by Jay Manuel

A silver fox but different.

4:00pm We look at the Oscar Countdown and watch Chris Harrison's "Road to Oscars" video on Oscar.com
4:30pm We look at movie trailers on Paige's computer and usually a couple fights start about this for various reasons
5:30pm Girlfights are resolved and everyone starts making The Oscar Feast
6:00pm We all sit on the couch or the floor with our Oscar feast on our closed laptops and pig out while complaining that Guliana Rancic is too too skinny

We wouldn't call this a "natural" glow...

8:00pm Turn of E! and Guliana and Jay Manuel and Ryan Seacrest and turn on The Oscars (squeal!)
8:10pm We wait until Steve Martin and Alex Baldwin are done speaking to talk about our individual love and attraction for these silver foxes

There is no age for love

9:00pm Assemble The Second Oscar Feast
9:30pm Kristy falls asleep on someones shoulder but still wakes up to smile and nod her opinions about big Oscar Wins

At whatever time the Oscars are done we get into Paige's toaster and fall asleep. Meryl Streep narrates our dreams of gold men and men with silver hair like Jay Manuel and people with orange skin like Guliana.


Forever Your Girl,

Holly

Humpday

Humpday, with an Oscar theme

To get you through the rest of the week we have so kindly and excitedly decided to give your our Oscar picks. Over the past year, we have had the pleasure of paying for one child's movie ticket and seeing 2-3 movies all on that ticket, all the while sneaking in candy and soda and bags of clementines and traditional Vietnamese sandwiches. So one would think we would sort of be experts on who should win what at the Oscars. In reality, the 2 of us combined, have seen about 4 of the movies up for anything, Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince (which is up for cinematography) included. You all know we like to pretend to act to squirm our way into being experts on anything, so why should the Oscars be any different?

I have so graciously included which actor/actress is up for what, but not the movies as Paige lists every single one as part of her decision making process. And the nominees are:

Performance by an actor in a leading role
Jeff Bridges in "Crazy Heart" (Fox Searchlight)
George Clooney in "Up in the Air" (Paramount in association with Cold Spring Pictures and DW Studios)
Colin Firth in "A Single Man" (The Weinstein Company)
Morgan Freeman in "Invictus" (Warner Bros.)
Jeremy Renner in "The Hurt Locker" (Summit Entertainment)
Performance by an actor in a supporting role
Matt Damon in "Invictus" (Warner Bros.)
Woody Harrelson in "The Messenger" (Oscilloscope Laboratories)
Christopher Plummer in "The Last Station" (Sony Pictures Classics)
Stanley Tucci in "The Lovely Bones" (DreamWorks in association with Film4, Distributed by Paramount)
Christoph Waltz in "Inglourious Basterds" (The Weinstein Company)
Performance by an actress in a leading role
Sandra Bullock in "The Blind Side" (Warner Bros.)
Helen Mirren in "The Last Station" (Sony Pictures Classics)
Carey Mulligan in "An Education" (Sony Pictures Classics)
Gabourey Sidibe in "Precious: Based on the Novel 'Push' by Sapphire" (Lionsgate)
Meryl Streep in "Julie & Julia" (Sony Pictures Releasing)
Performance by an actress in a supporting role
Penélope Cruz in "Nine" (The Weinstein Company)
Vera Farmiga in "Up in the Air" (Paramount in association with Cold Spring Pictures and DW Studios)
Maggie Gyllenhaal in "Crazy Heart" (Fox Searchlight)
Anna Kendrick in "Up in the Air" (Paramount in association with Cold Spring Pictures and DW Studios)
Mo'Nique in "Precious: Based on the Novel 'Push' by Sapphire" (Lionsgate)

Holly's picks:

Best Picture:

I would like to pick Avatar, because something in there tells me that's what I need to pick to win this thing. But something in my heart, the same thing that told me not to ever see Avatar, is telling me that it's not in the bag in for James Cameron. My boyfriend didn't like The Hurt Locker so I'm not picking it for him. I saw Inglorious Bastards and really liked it but really didn't like Diane Krugers acting job. She tried too hard, you could tell she was physically hungry for some red meat or something the whole time. So, although I haven't seen it yet, I pick Up in the Air, for various reasons, mostly because George Clooney seems immortal.

Best Actress:

Gabourey Sibide. I feel her winning this would bring back "You Go Girl!" and therefore make me cool again.
Best Supporting Actress :

I pick Penelope Cruz, not because I have seen Nine...yet. I pick her because, let's face it, she really deserves the most screen time because she is dead sexy. Also I have already heard one of Monique's speeches and do not want to hear another. Ever. I would rather hear a lifetime smoker sing "Row Row Row Your Boat" nine times than hear the exasperation that is Monique. Moving on...

Best Actor:

I pick Colin Firth because I love Bridget Jones. Not the movie so much but the book. All of the books to be specific, even "Bridget Jone's Guide to Life" because that book taught me to play "Marry, Shag, or Push off a Cliff" when I was in the bloody 7th grade and hadn't even started snogging yet.

Best Supporting Actor :

I pick Christopher Waltz from Inglorious Bastards because I actually saw that one. And he does a really REALLY good job eating what I think was an apple tart or something. He was eating the tart with anger even though the tart was I'm sure delicious.

Paige's Picks:

Best Picture:

I really hope it's not Avatar, I didn't see Avatar because I'm never really interested in things that can't actually happen. But mainly, I don't want it to win because when James Cameron won best picture for Titantic he screamed "I'm king of the world", and seriously, if he pulls shit like that again he will single handedly ruin my Oscars. I didn't see "Up", because cartoons hurt my eyes. I didn't see "Nine" because Kate Hudson sings in it and I can pretty much die happy if I never have to hear something like that. I didn't see "An Education" because I heard that Peter Saarsgard plays a child molester and I think he's so hot, it would really upset me. I fell asleep in District 9, I don't have the stomach for Precious, Inglorious Bastards was awesome but I don't think it has the chops to win, The Blind Side was too cheesy, A Serious Man didn't get enough hype and I didn't see Up In The Air (because I saw Dear John instead.. bad move). My vote is for The Hurt Locker, because it was really awesome (Holly's boyfriend is WAY wrong) and I would LOVE to see a woman director win this, and if that woman is James Camerons hot ex-wife, all the better.

This could never happen. Blue creatures could never have teeth this straigt.

Best Actress:

I'd like Gabourey Sibide to win because I think shes a total doll, even if it meant I had to hear holly say "You go Girl" on a regular basis. But i just don't think she will. My guess is Meryl Streep, not because I saw "Julie and Julia" (like I was going to spend two hours staring at Amy Adams hair in that movie... please!) but because I love her and her Julia Childs accent.

Best Supporting Actress:

I'm with Holly on not wanting Mo, shes won so much so far and I'm just sick of her, plus I saw a picture of her unshaven legs and totally dry heaved and couldn't finish my Udon Noodle lunch, jerk, Shave your legs!!! My vote goes to Maggie Gyllenhaal because she is a fellow Brooklynite and I think if she wins maybe her brother, Jake will come over to her house in Park Slope and celebrate and maybe he'll want to check out some local bars... and Mayyybe I'll run into him at Union Hall playing boccie and day drinking... and MAYBE we'll live happily ever after, finally!

this is Maggie strolling through Brooklyn, OBVIOUSLY

Best Actor:

I didn't see Crazy Heart, but everyone said Jeff Bridges played the "roll of a lifetime", which means it must have been awesome because I've SEEN The Big Lebowski. But Mickey Rourke didn't win his "roll of a lifetime" last year so Bridges isn't getting my vote on this one. I'm gonna go for the dark horse, Jeremy Renner from The Hurt Locker because he was incredible and even made that bomb-diffusing outfit look sexy.

Best Supporting Actor:

I'd really like to hear what Woody Harrelson would say in an acceptance speech, but I really wish he was nom'ed for Zombie Land because that movie was great. But I'm going to agree with Holly on this one and go with Chris Waltz (I just call him Chris) because when he gave his acceptance speech at the Globes he was so totally adorable and not Nazi-ish at all.

This is our favorite Oscar, OBVIOUSLY