According to a Time article I just read, the “secret” ingredient in Red Bull Cola is, um, COCAINE.

Ooops.

This is very upsetting. I don’t drink the cola, but I guzzle Sugar Free Red Bull  Energy drink by the gallon.  Starting right after I finish my daily iced coffe from McDonald’s and giant glass of water laced with “Spark,” which I suspect also contains cocaine or some other illegal drug because I can’t stop drinking it, even though it costs $50 a month and tastes like crap.

Incidentally, Sugar Free Red Bull also tastes like crap, yet I’m drawn to it. I can’t live without it. I think about it all the time. I love it so much, I’d marry it. You get the idea.

While we’re on the subject of my embarrasing addictions, let’s talk about The Real Housewives of New Jersey.

First off, let me say that I can’t believe I’m watching this. Yes, I adore the Real Houswewives of New York, but that’s different. That’s women in New York. I don’t even watch the Orange County or Atlanta Housewives, so what’s up with me and these New Jersey chicks? One of the women (Teresa–2nd from left) calls breasts “bubbies,” for heaven’s sake.  And Dina (2nd from right) is so scary I sometimes worry she might actually jump through the television screen and kick my you-know-what. Yet I find them strangely fascinating. Or maybe it’s just that I have no life. I’m not sure.

In other news, Donald Trump finally got around to firing Carrie Prejean.

I have to say, I don’t really get this girl. She’s trying to hold herself out to the world as this sort of spokesperson for “traditional” Christian values (i.e. slamming the gay and lesbian community), yet Fox News just published transcripts of several emails between her and Keith Lewis, the director of the California USA pageant, and they do not present Ms. Prejean in a flattering light. At all. Professionally or grammatically. Here is a sampling:

You do not cooperate with me, and you pick and chose the the things YOU want me to do. That is not happening anymore. Stop speaking for me. I have MY own voice. What are u gonna do fire me for volunteering for the special olympics hahaha ur crazy No I am doing this appearance. You do not need details. Its for the SPECIAL OLYMPICS!!! You just need to know I will be doing it alright

 There are so many things wrong with this e-mail, I don’t even know where to start.  First off, I know e-mail, texting, etc. lends itself to a very informal style of writing–no punctuation, abbrieviations, etc. And that’s fine if you’re writing to your BFF, your mom, the cute guy from the gym, Aunt Martha–you get the idea. However, if you’re communicating about your JOB, you need to put in a little more effort (a LOT more in Ms. Prejean’s case). And make no mistake, being a title holder is a JOB. Especially on the state level. Yes, you get to wear fancy clothes and have your picture taken and (perhaps) go on TV and appear in magazines, but the bottom line is that it’s still a job. In the first line she says you pick and chose (notice “chose” is misspelled) the things YOU want me to do. That is not happening anymore. 

Yeah . . . um, the pageant organization does pick and choose the things a titleholder does. That’s sort of the point. Hence the contract they make you sign when you enter the pageant. Now, that being said, I would certainly expect pageant officials to make every effort to accommodate reasonable requests from a titleholder–like allowing them to volunteer for a Special Olympics event should they wish to do so. But based on Mr. Lewis’s response (below), it appears the California organization was very willing to work with her. 

 Carrie,

Although I do not agree with your directive nor is this letter an indication of our intent to waive our contract rights, we do not want to escalate the situation with you. In good faith, we will simply ask that you provide us all of the details so that we can block it in on our master calendar. We would also want to get the contact information should something come up – like you become missing after the event or you are in an accident before the event and need us to reach out for you. It is for your safety and our responsibility.

Best regards,

Keith Lewis

Notice how his professional, POLITE, e-mail makes her sound even more like a spoiled, hateful 13 year old? I’m not saying that he’s right and she’s wrong or vice-versa. Obviously, I have no idea what goes on behind the scenes of the California USA system. Maybe Keith Lewis is Satan himself. Maybe he boiled Carrie’s pet kitten in a pot. I don’t know. All I’m saying is that because of the unprofessional, rude nature of her written communications, she comes off looking like the bad guy. So let this be a lesson to you, boys and girls. Be polite!! And use proper grammar!!

Super-fun news, everybody!!  Stacey Jay and I just launched a new blog called “Zombies in Tiaras!”  Stacey is a fellow Arkansan who writes YA too!  Which is very cool because SHE’S very cool.  Check out her first YA, which was just released by Razorbill:  

Megan Berry is a Zombie Settler by birth, which means she’s part-time shrink to a whole bunch of semi-dead people with killer issues. All Megan really wants is to go to homecoming, but when you’re trailed by a bunch of slobbering corpses whenever you leave the house, it’s kinda hard to score a date. Let’s just say Megan’s love life could use some major resuscitation.

Megan’s convinced her life can’t get any worse – until someone in school starts using black magic to turn average, angsty Undead into scary, hardcore flesh-eating Zombies. Now it’s up to Megan to stop the Zombie apocalypse. Her life – and more importantly, the homecoming dance – depends on it.

Sounds awesome doesn’t it?  That’s because it is.  Really.  And Megan’s zombie adventures are going to continue in “Undead Much,” coming early 2010.  And Stacey has ANOTHER zombie book “Boy Eats Girl,” that will be released by Flux in the Spring of 2010.

So, Stacey is the zombie part and I’m the tiara part.  Which duh–you probably already figured out. 🙂

This week we’re reviewing Oscar fashions.  Stop by and join the discussion! www.zombiesintiaras.blogspot.com

Fifteen-year-old Megan is a Zombie Settler by birth, which means she’s part-time shrink to a bunch of dead people with a whole lot of issues.

Christmas is over and the new year is almost upon us.  My house looks like a bomb exploded inside it and my daughter just announced in a trembly voice that “the laundry looks like it’s trying to eat me.”  Sigh.  Housework is not my best subject. But, in my defense, I hosted my sister’s wedding reception over the weekend. (Ha!  You’re trapped now Jason!) 

I know I’m supposed to be doing a pageant blog, but–well, I don’t feel like it.  So I’m going to procrastinate and put it off until later.  But that leaves me with nothing to write about.  I suppose I could do New Year’s Resolutions, but, um, those are sort of boring.  I mean, everybodys’ resolutions are always so mundane.  “I’m going to stop smoking,” “I’m going to lose 20 pounds,” “I’m going to join the gym.”  Just once I wish somebody would say something like, “This year I’m going to quit my job and start a meth lab in my kitchen.”

Okay, so I don’t want somebody to say that, exactly, but you get the idea.  Because to quote Mark Twain–“now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions. Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual.”

Veering totally off the subject, have you seen my boyfriend’s Robert Pattinson’s new hair?

I normally prefer for guys to have short, short, SHORT hair, but now he looks even more like my brother than he did before. (Note to any single girls out there between the ages of 18-25: my brother looks EXACTLY like RP.) Which is seriously screwing up my fantasy life.  How can he be my imaginary boyfriend if he insists on looking like my brother?  It’s so insensitive of him.  Really, it’s like he thinks that just because he doesn’t know I exist he doesn’t have to consider my feelings at all.

In other guy news, I’m adding a new feature to my site–A real, live guy!!  No, really.  I have totally tricked asked an actual living, breathing, high school guy to start blogging on here.  We’re going to call him *Joe.*  

Actually, that’s really his name.  Joe.  I didn’t make that up to protect his identity or anything.  

Anyway, I thought it would be fun to have a) a guy’s perspective; and b) a teenager’s perspective.  So, you know, it’s like killing two birds with one stone.  Plus, I’m not the most reliable blogger, so hopefully Joe will take up some of my slack.  Thus, without further ado, heeeeeeeeere’s JOE!!  (assuming I can figure out how to post his blog)