Post-slushie. ...I think pink highlights could work for me.
Chipmunks, I know you’ve just been dying to hear more about my Glee slushie experience after watching the presentation in my last post, Why Glee Makes My Soul Sing.
And what kind of guilty pleasure blogger would I be if I didn’t indulge your every whim?
Before I give you the uncut version of my first ever slushie-in-the-face extravaganza, though, there are a few things you should I want you to know:
Peppermeister (my husband) normally requires at least 7 day’s notice before making ANY plans on the weekend (this includes plans as small as hanging one picture or a trip to Wal-Mart [true story]). When I asked -with only a few minute’s notice- if he’d be willing to throw a frozen beverage in my gourd this past Sunday, he dropped everything
That (Target) sweater already had an oops-red-sock-in-the-wash stain on the back and was headed for the bin
We were outside. In January. In New Jersey (translation = cold!)
You might be able to hear Uncle Jesse (our dog) whining from inside the house, because he can handle anything except alienation
We didn’t have a Big Gulp Slurpee (from 7-Eleven) like they use in Glee, so we substituted with a souvenir Medieval Times cup and a homemade slushie made from ice, water, cranberry juice and red food coloring
So. Would you? Slushie in the face? Why or why not?
I haven’t gotten a chance to tell you Chipmunks about my two new [guilty pleasure] life coaches, Zest and Zeal. UNTIL NOW! Boo-ya:
Meet Zest. She's obsessed with her own reflection. (So is Uncle Jesse.)This is Zeal. He's trying to help me measure the living room for the proper-sized couch, and keeps shouting "NUTS!" every time the measuring tape snaps back on his paws.
They were a Christmas gift from Babs (Mommasita Extraordinaire), and they’re teaching me how to live in the moment and embrace each glass of champagne breath.
Before I go much further, though, I’d like to share with you a scene from this past Christmas Eve, where my father, a Princeton graduate, Doctor of Education and well-respected man about town Dancing with the Stars-watcher, suddenly shouted down the hall to me:
“WHY DO YOU LIKE CHIPMUNKS SO MUCH?”
I could tell immediately that my brother had asked him the question, though that was as much as I could glean.
“BECAUSE THEY’RE SO ADORABLE AND ELUSIVE,” I shouted back immediately. Duh.
“BECAUSE THEY’RE SO ADORABLE AND ELUSIVE,” my father repeated verbatim to my brother, who was not within my line of sight.
…I love my family.
Anyhoo. Zest and Zeal have been busy these past few weeks. Their first order of business, naturally, was to size up this ‘Second Husband‘ they kept hearing so much about:
They unanimously approved.
Their next order of business was to inspect my chocolate stash:
They weren't convinced it was sufficient until they saw the '1-pound' designation.
Then Zest and Zeal decided to take me shopping. I thought they were going to show me the Self Help section of Barnes and Noble, but they had other ideas…
They suggested I start decorating with pieces I could actually use in "day-to-day life."
Holding the massive utensils, the doubt settled in; I began to question their credibility. Not long after the Flatware Fiasco, I got home late one night and stumbled upon this scene:
How cliché.
I gave them a lecture about how I can’t afford a new ceiling fan, but just last night, I returned home to find…
Not my champagne. Anything but the champagne.
I also suspect they’re stealing slap bracelets. And here I thought you could always count on chipmunks.
I’ll be honest. I sensed in my heart of hearts that chipmunks young and old, or in that strange in-between age where you know you should stop making PowerPoint presentations about a certain “Glee” cast member but you just can’t seem to help yourself, and you genuinely wonder if maybe you never really embraced your childhood and you’re a victim of this unstoppable regression and pretty soon you’re going to start sucking your thumb and eating cake while smearing icing all over your face because you think it’ll get a laugh…wait….what was I saying? Oh, right: I knew bringing back slap bracelets was a shoo-in.
So I wasn’t surprised to hear from many of you once I announced my slap bracelet giveaway. After shipping out several dozen, I waited patiently for you to hold up your end of the deal – to send me a picture of you/your loved ones/pets wearing the slap bracelet(s) so I could post it on this very blog.
I was not disappointed. The pictures I’ve gotten so far are…well, you’ll see. I’m going to share the photos in installments, to ensure that you, and your blogs (where applicable), receive the adoration they deserve. To be fair, I’m posting them in the order in which they were received.
After you see this picture, I don’t think I’ll have to say much else to convince you Renee is a true guinea pig chipmunk, but you should also know that Renee is co-author of “Saving the Best for Last” and “Invisible No More,” which you can learn more about here. Not only is she an accomplished writer, but she is funny as all get-out, and much like slap bracelets, her humor transcends age.
Meet Reesees. (Renee was guinea pig-sitting over the holidays!)
I first spotted Peg commenting on The Good Greatsby‘s blog; she was always coming up with captions for his caption contest that were better than mine, as evidenced by her constant ‘winner’ and ‘runner-up’ status. It took me a little while to shove my ego aside and drink the Peg-o-Leg Kool-Aid. After witnessing a lively, and hilarious, competition between Darla and Peg over said caption contest, I poured myself a nice, tall glass. Peg’s blog always makes me laugh out loud. She really understands the power of illustrating a joke, which you need to see for yourself.
Here’s the message that Peg sent along with these fab pictures. Bottoms up!:
The slap bracelets arrived, and were a GODsend over the New Year’s holiday. Here are just some of the things that happened because of them.
1) My normally feeble morning coffee was definitely more robust and richer tasting when I was wearing the bracelet.
2) Its secret powers inbued me with the strength of will needed to tackle the dreaded post-Christmas task of tree put-awaying.
3) When my GPS went out on the highway, the magnetized core of the slap bracelet drew my hand to true north, thereby allowing me to make it to my destination safely.
4) No less than 3 college-age hipsters fought for the privilege of wearing the uber-cool slap bracelets of style.
5) As for my cat, Beeby, well…I won’t lie. She didn’t like them. Her response was something like “get this torture device off me, you sadist!”
So except for Beeby, it was all good. Thank you for saving New Years for the entire Peg-o-leg family!
I am new to Thoughtsy’s blog, but I can tell you right now I am falling in love. For one thing, she currently has a picture of a kitten inside a box of Pop Tarts on her Facebook widget; for another, one of her recent posts was dedicated to dessert-flavored vodka. I am really excited to learn about what else we have in common, and to find out more about her relationship with Kiefer Sutherland.
Thank you SO much, Renee, Peg and Thoughtsy! You have officially been upgraded to Chief Chipmunk status.
And believe me when I say – you are NOT going to want to miss the next installment(s)!
I still have more slap bracelets, so stop schmooping around and email me at JKSchnedeker@yahoo.com!
I don't know why you assume I'm in love...with my new PowerPoint!!!!
Cheerio, Chipmunks!
I’d like to talk to you a little bit about my best friend, Byronic Man. I know we’re best friends because he shares all of his deepest, darkest secrets with me*, and when I’m hysterically laughing at his every blog post, I know he was only so funny just to make me guffaw.
My B.F.F. Byronic Man has even sent me a SCANDALOUS GoGuiltyPleasures slap bracelet picture that features his ENTIRE, HANDSOME mug – AND HE’S LETTING ME POST IT! You are really going to want to stay tuned for the big reveal. Here’s a sneak peek:
In all seriousness, Byronic Man is one of the funniest, most supportive bloggers I’ve ‘met’ on WordPress. I promise you he is the real-deal, and I hope this personal endorsement on my silly little blog does not detract from his genuine comedy genius.
I’m pretty sure if you don’t subscribe to his blog, your life will remain a dreary, sunless, chipmunk-free march to the grave.
Er, Happy Tuesday!
*He even told me how he really feels about his wife**.
Yesterday Babs and I headed into Manhattan to see Second Husband, Darren Criss, in his Broadway debut: “How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying.” To say I was looking forward to this day is like saying a Friendly’s Reese’s peanut butter cup sundae is ‘just okay.’ After weeks of preparing my Why Polygamy is the Right Choice For You presentation for Second Husband, the day had finally arrived.
I laid out my outfit. The guilty pleasure gods blessed me with an unseasonably warm, sunny Saturday, and I didn’t even need the gloves and jacket vest!
Uncle Jesse is torn, because while he appreciates my exceptional taste, he knows this means I'm leaving him.
I took extra care doing my make-up, and debated waterproof vs. regular mascara. Would seeing Second Husband in the flesh reduce me to tears?
Some decisions are just too important to take lightly.I took my chances with regular mascara. Mostly because it takes whale fat, rubbing alcohol and three to four woodland fairies to get waterproof mascara off.
I then consulted Babs and put my hair in her favorite style.
That perfect "oh I'm trying...but not TOO hard" up-do.
Feeling spiffy, we headed in on the 2:42 train, with the goal of getting to the “How to Succeed” stage door by 4pm. This way, we could hopefully score an autograph from Second Husband after the 2pm matinée performance.
I'm ready for you, Second Husband! And you can't even see my freakin' awesome footwear. (Thanks, Payless! Who knew pleather calf-high boots could be so comfortable?)
Once at the Al Hirschfeld theater stage door, we secured a decent spot on line, right against a barricade.
No one needs to know I'm 29 years old...right?
I chatted up the adorable girl next to me, Christie. She had seen the play the night before, and had come back to try to meet Darren. I told her I only had the Warblers CD for him to sign, and she gave me an extra Playbill! I was thrilled to reciprocate with the latest and greatest in cutting-edge fashion, a GoGuiltyPleasures slap bracelet.
Slap bracelets make friends.
We waited about 45 minutes, and the crowd thickened. Babs and I met another lovely mother-daughter duo, Anne and Molly, who definitely helped the time pass pleasantly. After quickly assessing their chipmunkitude, I covered them in slap bracelets. Interest in my bracelets grew, but I was running out. I had to save one for Second Husband, after all!
Beau Bridges and the female lead, Rose Hemingway, came out to sign autographs. They both graciously acknowledged my “Thank you SO much!” with sweet smiles and eye contact, solidifying my hunch that I could win Second Husband over as easily with my overdone undeniable charm.
Those lips smooch Second Husband Every. Night.
An hour and a half into the wait, I started to get restless, especially because I was late meeting the glorious JM Randolph (of Accidental Stepmom fame) and her husband for dinner. I kept her updated with texts: “Sooo sorry! He’s still not out yet!” She was very understanding. It was Second Husband.
After two hours, my feet were starting to feel the burn and I was ready to do this thing. The jokester security guard suddenly said, “We’re shutting it down!” I thought he was kidding, but watched in disbelief as he started removing all of the barricades. “The cops are shutting it down,” he explained. “There are too many people on the sidewalk.”
Sure, there were probably about 150 of us waiting in a line down the sidewalk, but, but, but… c’mon!! Everyone was being very patient and calm. Sigh. No Second Husband, and me with extra room in my heart.
Not too shabby. By the way, all of the posters featuring Second Husband were already sold out! You go, Darren!
I may not have gotten to meet Second Husband, but I DID get to meet the gorgeous and charming JM Randolph and her HILARIOUS hub. We missed having dinner with them because they had to get back to work, but we had a nice chat and will hopefully get to cash in on a rain check soon.
Babs and I, starving, and more importantly, libation-less, headed down the block to 45th and 9th Ave. to try our luck at Justin Timberlake’s restaurant, Southern Hospitality (he might not be bringing sexy back, but I guess bringing baby back ribs will do for now). The wait time was 45 minutes, but the cute host caught a glimpse of my Playbill, and after I shared the details of my autograph fail, he told us we could eat in the downstairs lounge/bar, if we didn’t mind. We didn’t! We got to eat and drink on a luxurious leather couch, the service was quick (key when you have an 8 o’clock curtain) and the food was very good. The lounge was quickly overrun with twenty-somethings, and suddenly a guy walked in and the group whooped and hollered. We realized we were in the middle of a surprise party. Er….surprise!! We got the check and skidattled.
Everywhere we went, we heard the name ‘Darren Criss.’ New York City seemed to have traded in its cool indifference for superfandom. (I fit right in.) Back at the theater, we made our way to our right orchestra aisle seats and I spotted lots of folks from Darren’s theater company, StarKid.
Joe Walker of StarKid fame sat right in front of us, which meant I got to see two tweens nearly hyperventilate while asking for an autograph.
When Darren descended from the ceiling as a window washer in the opening scene, the crowd went berserk. His StarKid friends/college mates were ecstatic. They grinned wildly and pointed to each other – their friend! On Broadway! It was a treat to witness.
Darren’s performance was hilarious, captivating and exuberant. (I’m being as objective as I can, I swear.) His enthusiasm, combined with the audience’s energy, made the two and a half hour show fly by. (If you read my lukewarm post about seeing the very same play back in April, when Daniel Radcliffe was the star, you know that I’m not always as easily won over.) Darren made the performance seem effortless, the way only great actors can. To think he only had two weeks to rehearse! And yeah, he looked drop-dead, too!
I should mention there’s a whole ‘fight song’ about a rivalry with a school whose mascot is a chipmunk. A chipmunk! I heard Second Husband say chipmunk!!! Babs nudged me so hard I almost landed at the peep show next door.
He was actually smiling throughout the curtain call, but I think in this moment he realized he didn't get a slap bracelet.
We didn’t have the stamina to try to get an autograph after the show, since we weren’t sure Darren would come out (he did…double sigh), but we made the 11:11 train, which was a miracle in and of itself. I lose at least two pounds every time I go into the city. (To see some great pictures of Darren from January 7th that Babs DIDN’T take, click here.)
The night ended with a text from Peppermeister: “How was it? Am I still your ONLY husband?”
Photo credit (before my professional-quality annotation): playbill.com
In preparation for January 7th, when I shall have my opportunity to see Second Husband, Darren Criss, in the flesh (in his Broadway debut: “How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying“), I’ve been diligently working on my Why Polygamy is the Right Choice for You presentation. (As a project manager by trade*, I think I have a gift for expressing myself in animated clip art. I’m sure you’ll agree.)
Take a look!
So, what do you think? If you were a brilliant actor with the voice of an angel and a face that could turn a heart of stone to unicorn tears, would this win you over? (Be honest. This is important.)
Who needs g.d. candy canes when you have a GoGuiltyPleasures slap bracelet?
Cheesy Chipmunks, this is one of those rare instances when words escape me. So I’ll let pictures do the talking (click on any to enlarge).
"Second Husband""He just doesn't know it yet."
That is a deck of cards next to the Reese's. 1/2-lb. Reese's cups, people!!!! A Christmas miracle.
A breathalyzer. That Babs has a real sense of humor.I've decided to branch out from side ponies.I made this image with my new MS Office Suite PowerPoint!!! Sigh. Happiness = clip art.
P.S. – The pictures from Uncle Jesse’s photo shoot have arrived, AND I’m almost done with my “Why Polygamy is the Right Choice For You” presentation for Second Husband – couldn’t you just pee from excitement?!
This post came very close to being a review of the Yule Log offerings on Comcast OnDemand (Yule Dogs?! Hello! Awesome!). But really all I want to say is: I hope you have a very Merry Christmas! May it be filled with peace, laughter and love spiked egg nog, cold hard cash, and the satisfaction of looking better than all of your relatives.
My gift to you me? Why, a magical Christmas combo: my favorite holiday song, sung by the one and only, Second Husband:
Chipmunks-in-a-trunk (tree trunk, that is), I mentioned in my first ever video blog that I would be bringing back not only the side pony, but also…
SLAP BRACELETS!
And I’m no liar.
They just arrived today!!!
They’re REFLECTIVE! You know, for safety.
I’ve got 200 of these puppies (dressed as rad, neon pink accessories) to give away, and you’re gonna want to make sure you get one! Don’t be the only one at the guilty pleasure party without the latest bling.
If you trust me enough to send me your address (and why wouldn’t you? Nothing says trustworthy like this), email me at julie.davidoski@yahoo.com. I’ll get one in the mail to you lickety-split.
All I ask in return is that you take a picture of you and/or your loved ones/pets wearing the slap bracelets and allow me to post it here on goguiltypleasures.com.
Chipmunks! We’re gonna bring back slap bracelets!! (…FINALLY.)
There are a lot of reasons I heart my besties, Jenn and Mary. Namely:
They are funny.
They think I am funny.
They are smart.
They think I am smart funny.
But when it comes to enumerating their many qualities, the word crafty (like Martha Stewart-crafty, not Wet Bandits-crafty) doesn’t necessarily spring to mind. Nevertheless, this holiday season, I decided to push them out of their comfort zones, right into gingerbread village. To help them cope with the shock, I provided the following:
1.) A home-cooked roast chicken dinner.
2.) Encouragement Vodka.
3.) Uncle Jesse in a sweater.
4.) John Denver and the Muppets.
5.) Duct tape.
Mary says Jenn was 'icing with rage.' I say her candy cane suicide threats were empty.
We set to work.
"All the vodka in the world can't make this right."
"You will not defeat me, Gingerbread!"
One Two hours later…
Mary's gingerbread creation puts the "tree" in "treeat."
The stuffing Uncle Jesse immediately ripped out of his new toy from Mary made for really nice snow around my sleigh.
"Gingerbread houses divided will not stand." -Jenn (Image courtesy of Google Earth, Gingerbread Edition)
And in the end, the gingerbread creations [couldn’t stand the long drive home for Jenn and Mary and] were mine…all mine! Merry Christmas, me!
Any holiday crafts going on in your neck ‘o the woods, Chipmunks?
Go Jules Go 