Baby Mendes-Gosling

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Where were you when you heard the news? (Apologies if it’s where you’re sitting right now.)

I was just sitting in my work chair, minding my own business, scrolling through my Twitter feed, when I noticed Elan Gale (one of the producers of The Bachelor/ette — haters to the left) say something sarcastic about Ryan Gosling regurgitating food into the mouth of Eva Mendes’ child, which I thought was strange, but so are most things Elan Gale tweets (and NSFW, just a heads up). I kept scrolling and saw another post from Elan, this time with an accompanying photo stating “RYAN GOSLING IS HAVING A BABY WITHOUT YOU.”

Wait a second. Ryan Gosling is going to be a FATHER?

A Google search of “Ryan Gosling” later, and wait TWO seconds. Ryan Gosling is going to be a father to the child of EVA MENDES, who is decidedly NOT Rachel McAdams? Is there no justice in the world?

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The Everglow (Or, ‘Deuces, I’m Going to Philadelphia’)

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This is me, circa 2005.

The fact that that was nearly 10 years ago weirds me out. I don’t want to talk about it.

But what is significant about this photo is not the fact that it was my first QuikTrip experience after being told several times it is The Gas Station to End All Gas Stations. (That’s true, by the way.) It’s the shirt I’m wearing.

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The Pink ‘Crazy Cat Lady’ Mug

Today is May 26, 2014. Memorial Day. I’m not at work. Instead, I’m sitting at my desk, in a yellow room, in our first house, peering out a window with the blinds pulled up about 14 inches — just enough for the orange cat I’ve come to love more than I ever thought I could to sit on the sill.

I’m drinking warm coffee from a pink mug emblazoned with the moniker “Crazy Cat Lady.”

I love this mug. I love it because it is the perfect size to drink from so that my coffee doesn’t get cold before I finish it (and then I can fill it up again). I love it because it is a semi-ironic description of someone I never thought I’d be, but have certainly become. But most of all, I love it because it was given to me by someone I hadn’t known very long, simply because she saw it and thought of me.

She probably didn’t know it, but she gave it to me at a time when I needed to feel significant. Loved. And that gift did exactly that. “You matter,” it says.

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5 Reasons Why You Should Be Watching ‘Orphan Black’

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If you follow me on Twitter, you may know that the show Orphan Black (BBC America) is one of my lastest obsessions (unless you muted me, in which case, I understand — I talk a lot).

As a fan of shows like Sherlock and Doctor Who, I hear whispers of new BBC-related shows every now and again. Sometimes they’re more like stage whispers. Inches from my face.

I kept hearing about Orphan Black, and as the title sounds terrifying, I didn’t think I would like it. My husband wanted to give it a shot, so I committed to watching one episode on the condition that we would turn it off if it got too scary (usually a condition in our household).

Y’all. That pilot.

I had no idea what the show was about. Zero concept. I just blindly watched the first episode — and it won me over immediately. So here are some reasons you should be watching Orphan Black:

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Things I Now Have to Worry About

There has been a lot of disturbing news floating around lately. Things I did not really need to know. Frightening things. In the spirit of catharsis, thought I’d take a minute to get some of my feelings out about them. (I have many. Shocking, I know.)

Exploding whales – This is a legitimate news story in which a real live person said that it might be an actual concern that some beached whales could explode. EX. PLODE. Whale guts everywhere. IMAGINE THE SMELL. Burnt whale guts. I’m just saying, I’m right to be fearful of this situation, yes? I mean, okay, I live in a land-locked state. But just the fact that this could happen in real life is enough to cause concern. I do, however, think this would do well as the next Sharknado. Send me a royalty check if you create it.

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An Open Letter to Open Letter Writers

Dear Open Letter Writers of the Internet,

Please stop.

Sincerely,
Laura

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Connie Britton, U.N. Ambassador (Or: “OMG YES”)

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I found out a couple weeks ago that Connie Britton is going to be a United Nations goodwill ambassador.

For once, yes. If anyone is going to be the one American on a list of 10 celebrity UN goodwill ambassadors from around the world, there is no one better than Connie Britton. A person representing us on a global stage we can actually be proud of. Not Dennis Rodman, self-proclaimed ambassador to North Korea aka Kim Jong Un’s new BFF. Connie Britton. Connie “The most beautiful hair on the planet can I please touch it just once” Britton. THE Tami Taylor. Mrs. Coach.

I, for one, fully support this. I’d like to request that she speak in a southern accent when she does so, because it throws me off when I hear her use her boring REGULAR accent, but y’know, I guess she can do whatever she feels is right for the nations. Maybe just call people “y’all” every once in a while is all I’m saying. They’ll be putty in your hands.

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In Memoriam: Gwyneth and Chris

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You guys, I come to you with a heavy heart today.

Two of our own have called it quits. (By “our own” I mean celebrities we lay claim to, of course.)

One Mr. and Mrs. Christopher Martin have decided to go their separate ways. That’s right, Gwis (Chwyneth?) is no more.*

I, for one, am shocked.

Well, okay, not completely shocked. They are celebrities. But they were some of the last remaining celebrities married for over 10 years (according to my sources, which, in this case is solely my memory). Is nothing sacred?

What about APPLE, you guys? Did anyone ever think of her? First, her parents name her Apple and somehow legitimize all this nonsense celebrity baby naming, now this? Life is not going so great for ol’ Apple. How will her friends ever get backstage passes to Coldplay concerts again? What will Suri’s Burn Book say? What will people whisper when she has relationship troubles in the future? “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree?” (THANK YOU I’M HERE ALL NIGHT YOU’RE A GREAT AUDIENCE)

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Calm Down, Lady Gaga.

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Lady Gaga was at SXSW last weekend, and apparently went on some kind of angsty tirade about how she’d rather quit music than conform to the industry’s standards of beauty and blah blah blah. She goes on to say that she doesn’t want to be compared to Katy Perry and doesn’t get what the [bleep] Katy has to do with her and that their music couldn’t be more different.

Listen, Lady Gaga.

Can we just slow your roll for a minute?

You’ve had your turn. Really, it’s been fun. You’ve had your meat dress; you’ve had your public “hangings” and your political statements. We humored you that one time you dressed up like a man dating yourself and both attended an award show AND accepted an award on your own behalf as that persona.

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Excuses (And Links to Things I HAVE Been Writing)

I realize I have been slacking around here.

It’s not you, it’s me. Really.

And probably the fact that I started watching Veronica Mars and can’t seem to go a lunch break without watching an episode.

So in order to provide proper justification for my whereabouts lately, as I’m sure you were demanding, here are some things I have been writing.

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