An open letter to Oprah Winfrey...

Dear Oprah Winfrey,

One time I was checking the news, and all of the news outlets said that Candy Spelling (Candi? Candi with a heart over the "i"? Candee?)  was mad at Tori Spelling, so Candy Spelling wrote an open letter to a bunch of celebrities that she didn't even know, and all of the news outlets were all, "HOLY COW!  This is some serious news!" so they all reported it, and then all of the celebrities found out who Candy Spelling was, and Tori Spelling grabbed her pug and everybody went to Applebees and had margaritas.

You're probably wondering what this has to do with you, and for a minute I was too, but then I remembered what my point was and my point is this:  First - open letters to and/or by celebrities move mountains.

Next -you're doing this whole Next Chapter thing, and so am I kinda sorta, and I think this is a perfect time for us to sit down on your couch and share this exciting time in our lives. While you might not think that we have a lot in common, I'd like it to be known that A.) like Tori Spelling, I have a pug, B.) like most celebrities, I love margaritas and C.) I've been to Applebees on more than one occasion.  So, it's pretty obvious that I would fit in really well with you and your celebrity friends.

The gang at Applebees, just being famous, hanging out with pugs, drinking margaritas.

Also, as a bonus, I've eaten everything in sight over the past few months and gained more than a few pounds.  One of my friends just told me I looked like a potato, so if you were thinking of doing one of those positive thinking weight loss shows, you probably can't go wrong with a potato like me.

I don't want to tell you how to live your life, Oprah, but remember how happy we were when we never visited the Grand Canyon together?

Food potatoes for thought...

You have my number...

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Life Coaching by a Professional Life Coach Expert on Life Coaching. Expert. Professional. Life Coach.

In addition to all of my expertise in just about everything, I'm also a life coach.  I didn't realize that I was a life coach until I was on twitter one day and realized that the qualification for being a life coach was basically just claiming to be a life coach.  Which I just did. So I'm a life coach and also, an expert on life coaching and here to offer you life coaching advice on your life.

Because I'm a life coach.

Follow Your Dreams

Life coaching advice from self proclaimed life coach and expert on life coaching,

Jessica Benassi

One of the things that's important to do in your life is to follow your dreams and realize that you can be anything you want to be. Don't let anyone tell you any differently - you are you and you control your own destiny and you can be anything you want to be because you are the pilot of the airplane of fate and destiny and other stuff that has to do with the future. Go you!

Except you can't be a dinosaur.

Dinosaurs are extinct and it would be pretty stupid of you to even think that's possible.  Stupid people don't get to be whoever they want to be.  So don't be stupid, and then you can be whoever you want to be.

Also, losers only has one "o" in it, so you should also learn how to spell.  Don't be stupid, don't try to be a dinosaur, learn how to spell things, and then you can be whoever you want to be.

Except you can't be Oprah Winfrey's best friend. 

You shouldn't even attempt this, because it's not going to work, and you'll just end up crying in the corner of your shower every night, naked, with a half empty bottle of cheap whiskey.

So, in conclusion, follow your dreams and you can be whoever you want to be except for a dinosaur or Oprah Winfrey's best friend.

Seriously.  This isn't happening.

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Dear Beyonce, I'm sorry and also will you tell Oprah that I apologized so she'll put me on her show already?

Yeah...Oprah's people still haven't called me. I think it's pretty obvious why. She and Beyonce are probably really good friends and Oprah came over here and read my blog and the first thing she sees is me being all mean to her friend Sasha Fierce so she got all mother hen and decided not to let me on her show.

I'm sorry, Beyonce. I shouldn't have said "hate." Hate is a really strong word and should be reserved for things like brussel sprouts and butt cellulite...so I'm sorry. I don't "hate" your song so much....I "dislike it intensely" is what I meant to say. Also, that other song you have out now is ok. Sometimes I sing along to it and I don't even hate myself for it...I mean, intensely dislike myself for it. So are we cool now? You'll tell Oprah?

OPRAH, COME BACK!!!

So...here's really gross weirdness from my house: my youngest dog has been "sharting." Probably you know what that means but if you don't...it's when you fart but accidentally poop a little bit. Ok...first...it freaks me out to be talking about this. I mean, I'm slightly strange and I'm ok with that being all public and stuff but bodily functions are private and talking about them in public, even when it's my dog's bodily functions, makes me turn bright red.

I'm seriously blushing. For real. However, a sharting dog is pretty ridiculous and as such it belongs in my blog...no matter how difficult it is for me to talk about it.

So, before the sharting...there's just the regular gas. Our youngest dog is a pug so she came with really bad butt odor (that's how they all come, in case you're thinking of adding one to your family). We expected it, we bought some air freshener, we deal with it. The unexpected weirdness is the noise. She squeaks. And it shocks her every time. It's like somebody is slowly letting the air out of a balloon and she kind of jumps a little bit and looks all shocked like somebody snuck up on her and did it but really it was just her own butt. Like she doesn't realize that her butt is attached and she's all, "WHOA! I can't believe you got me AGAIN!" Anyway...the other day the sharting started...there was a squeak, the jump, the shocked expression...and a tiny gift on the floor for all to enjoy.

This went on for a full day...to the point that we thought we were going to have to put her in diapers. So we could be the weird family with that one weird dog. Awesome. So, yeah...weird and gross and I'm totally done talking about it.

A couple other things that I need to talk about eventually but not today because I'm supposed to be making jewelry and painting and probably going to work soon but seriously, remind me because it's all pretty important stuff:

*I'm going to learn morse code to spite James.
*I'm starting a band. It's called "Onward Christian Slater." That's not an original idea...I stole it...er...borrowed it...whatever, it's mine now.
* My band's first video is going to be a re-enactment of "Love is a Battlefield" by Pat Benatar...I'm going to try and get Bruce Campbell to play the pimp...the Bruce Campbell as pimp thing was also not my idea although I wish it was because it's AWESOME.
* My band performs telepathically. This is my second mental telepathy band.
* I'm going to New Orleans next week. I'm sure there will be stories. Hopefully not about lost luggage or missed connections.
* I had my teeth bleached at the dentist...'cause you know how important my grill is to me. I have an "in-process" picture...it's disturbing...I will show it to you.
* I got in an argument with a guy because I was stupid enough to think that scientists were conducting research at colleges. I'm not kidding. He looked at me like I was an idiot and said "Oh really? Professors at colleges are teaching classes and doing scientific experiments? And where do scientists do experiments?" I was all "Uh...um...you do realize that...um...you know? Nevermind...I'm just going to walk away now."
*I'm still not done reading all of your blogs and picking fights with you but there's about a gazillion of you out there so it's taking longer than expected and also, everytime I pick a fight with one of you guys you're all super nice to me and invite me over for dinner and dancing and stuff so I think I need a new strategy 'cause clearly this isn't working.

Yeah, don't forget to remind me to tell you about all of that stuff. You pick whatever seems the most important. I mean, it's obviously all really super important but you decide what's MOST important. Except for New Orleans because that hasn't happened yet and although I can do lots of really cool stuff, time travel isn't one of them...yet.


P.S. (and also, there's an f-bomb but I didn't do it...Natalie Dee did and it's ok because I love her and the comic really fits.)


(via www.headlinehumor.com)




www.nataliedee.com

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Dear Beyonce, I hate your song so much.*

Today is my first day off in forever. I was going to spend it telling you eloquent and thought provoking stories about my fabulous life but then I though that you might get jealous and maybe a little sad because my life is so awesome. And then right after that I remembered that I was sitting on my rapidly expanding butt, watching the Paula Abdul E! True Hollywood Story, with real gnarly bed hair, mismatched socks and surrounded by the dirtiest house I've ever seen in my entire life and I thought that maybe some people wouldn't think that was so awesome anyway.

But it is.

Anyway, instead of pouring my heart and soul into this blog like I always do...for you...because I love you that much and you totally take me for granted, by the way and it really hurts my feelings and the very least that you could do is show some appreciation by coming over here and cleaning my house or at least bringing me a donut or something...

...but anyway, I'm not messing around with any of that. Instead I'm going to run around and read all of your blogs and pick fights with you in your comments sections. #1) Because I like to pick fights over the internet and #2) Because I finally have time to read what other people write.

Also, I contacted the Oprah Winfrey Show. I'm sure I'll get the call any day now. I'm going to be so freaking famous.

*"If you like it then you should have put a ring on it"...in my head, all day, every day. Just that one line. I hate it. Also, it makes me feel all Gloria Steinem, like I want to ring up Beyonce and be all, "Really, Beyonce? 'It?' You shoulda put a ring on 'it?' Score one for the objectification of women, Miss Knowles or Mrs. Jay-Z or Sasha Fierce or whoever you are!"...And then I remembered that I don't really think or talk that way and also, I lost Beyonce's number (probably in the vagina purse) so I can't call her and I really just wish that song would go away because it sucks a little piece of my soul out every time I hear it.

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New Year's Resolutions

HA! That title is kinda sorta a joke...actually, no...it really is a joke. I'd mess up a resolution probably about 2 minutes after I made it. My only real goal this year anyway is to get on the Oprah Winfrey show and cry on her couch. I'd make that a resolution but ultimately, it's not my decision...it's pretty much out of my hands. YOU HEAR THAT, OPRAH??? Only YOU can help me achieve my greatest dream.

And no Oprah, I can't actually think of a good reason for you to have me on the show...I just really feel the need to be there. Real bad.

Actually...what would be super great...If Oprah had Britney Spears AND me on her show at the same time. Like, maybe we'd both end up crying and we'd hug each other for comfort and Oprah would turn to the camera with a little tear in her eye and do that "we'll be right back" thing and then the cameras would pan out just as Oprah Winfrey and Britney Spears and I all had a group hug 'cause we were all sad and stuff and comforting each other.

Man, I got so happy I almost peed my pants thinking about that one...

Also, I'm aware that so far this is a really random and scattered and pretty much pointless blog post but it was either going to be my Oprah and Britney dream or an open letter to David Caruso and I'm so pissed at David Caruso right now that I can barely see straight, much less write a blog post that even resembled something decent. (Don't play dumb, David Caruso...you know what you did...CSI: Miami? The episode where you drive the car with the bomb in it to the beach? Come ON! I expect so much better from you...for real. I have to continue with the rest of this blog post but don't think this is over...not for one minute, buddy.)

Oh yeah! I had an art show and I took some really bad pictures...fortunately, other people also took pictures and they turned out ok:












I used to paint really linear, serious guys...now I paint little grey lumpy guys with names like Linus and Augustus and Stan. They have a story but I can't tell you what it is because it's going in a book that's probably going to make me something like a gazillion dollars. I can't really take the risk of anybody snagging my gazillion dollar book idea because I've already spent about half that money already...so, you know...you're going to have to wait to hear the story.

Also, meet James:



I know, right? It's like the greatest love story ever photographed...

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Art and wine and rock stars and Oprah Winfrey and tears...it's like a weird cultural soup or something.

Ok, I know...I'm seriously neglectful of this blog lately. I have really, really good excuses, though. Seriously. One of them is this art opening/reception tonight. It's mine, actually. It's tonight, it's at One World (Peoria, Illinois), it's at 7:00...and there's wine. Probably people you know will be there so you won't have to spend the whole evening listening to me talking about the new season of Rock of Love...although you should, because it's AWESOME.

As expected, every member of the new cast is a complete trainwreck. There are far more cartoonishly large breasts than I would have hoped for but the ridiculousness that accompanies them more than makes up for the distraction. Brett Michaels has new hair extensions and there's something really weird going on with his make-up, but other than that, he's still the same guy we all know and love from the first 2 seasons.

My hope is that he finds his Rock of Love and then they break up real fast...I mean, I want him to be happy and love is great and all of that but for real...if there's another season I'm so there. James has given me permission, I have a push-up bra and I know how to wear fake eyelashes. Rock of Love could be even better than Oprah...

Also, the Oprah Winfrey site has a page where you can apply to be on her show for any number of things...most of them are heartwarming and sweet and touching...the only one that applies to me is something about "Is your car a cluttered, disgusting nightmare?" or something like that...my car actually is, so I might get on Oprah yet. I just have to figure out if I can somehow find a moment in getting my car cleaned out that will make me cry...I mean, obviously it's no good going on Oprah Winfrey if you're not going to cry.

P.S. I was going to post a picture of some celebrity crying on Oprah's couch but oddly enough...I couldn't find one. Don't all celebrities cry on Oprah's couch? WHERE ARE THE PICTURES????? Anyway, I got you this instead:




nataliedee.com
(Natalie Dee might be my favorite person that I've never met...actually, if she had a show, she'd probably rank higher than Oprah.)

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You can't just go dropping F-bombs anywhere you please.

Seriously, you can't...which totally sucks, by the way, and here's why:

This whole blog was started as a way to market my store and although it's probably hard to tell at this point, that is still the idea. I have a whole master plan for internet domination which I'm sure you're just dying to hear. BUT -if I tell you you could steal it and then I'd have to come up with a whole new plan and this one was pretty hard to come up with in the first place so all I'm going to tell you is that when I finally succeed you're going to know it because I'm going to be sitting on Oprah Winfrey's couch, crying about dating guys in crushed red velvet pants and helping her give away cars. Oh, and also, I'll have more money.

But anyway, the F-bomb thing...So, because I'm trying to achieve internet domination/fame/success/whatever, I'm also trying reallyreallyreally hard not to offend anyone. Which, if you really know me, you know that that's kind of a difficult thing for me to do. I offend people without even trying. I've been keeping it pretty well in check here but trust me, at some point I'm probably going to offend you, too. You're going to be all royally P.O.'d that you ever even wasted your time with the likes of me and you're going to think I scammed you into thinking I was a nice person and we're probably going to have a huge fight (which I'll probably win but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it).

Anyway, that's way far in the future because for the most part I've been really well behaved so far. I don't swear or talk about politics or religion or sex stuff or anything even remotely controversial...and then I go and read other blogs and I get super jealous 'cause they're all swearing and talking about sex and creepy stuff and swinging their bras from chandeliers and doing all sorts of sordid but cool grown up stuff and damnit, here I am trying to be all well behaved because my readers could be customers and people who want to buy pretty jewelry don't want to hear you spouting f-bombs all over the place and the other day I lost a follower on Twitter because I made a Jesus joke and I FREAKED out because it's kind of hard to explain yourself to an absolute stranger in 140 characters or less, especially when that stranger just dumped you and you're not even sure who they are. I'm still kind of freaking out about that, actually. I'm freaking out even mentioning it here, like maybe somebody else is going to read this and be all, "Well, I never! I wash my hands of this harlot with her Jesus jokes and her f-bombs and her boys in velvet pants and her just general offensiveness," but really, it was a super tiny little joke and I was only kidding and I'm pretty sure Jesus and I are cool, anyway. But, you know, people get really worked up about that sort of thing and you have to be careful when one of your end goals is to be on Oprah.

Of course, now that I think about it, I don't really even drop F-bombs that often or talk about sex or creepy stuff anymore and also, somebody else pulled me into that Jesus joke, it wasn't even my idea and I think I actually USED to be offensive but I'm probably really not anymore and I guess all I'm really trying to say is that I really like reality t.v. and a lot of the people on reality t.v. are douchebags and sometimes you just have to call a douchebag a douchebag without worrying about people trying to make you feel bad about it.



I hope you and I can still be friends.

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