We all have em.  Things we are obsessed with. They can change, evolve, cease to exist. You can develop new ones based on new friends or surroundings.  I have a lot. And since this is kind of a cathartic, soul-bearing blog I thought I’d share some.


I cannot emphasize how much I am intrigued by this culture/religion (Note: All of this applies to the Amish as well. I once saw a real live Amish girl in Publix and I froze. ) If there is a show on TLC (which there usually is at any given moment), I am all about it.  I have read books, gotten lost in Wikipedia references, and watched every single episode of HBO’s Big Love. I don’t wanna brag, but I’m kind of a wealth of knowledge about many things polygamy – the magic underwear, the hair style (which I like to call the Polygamy Poof), the Crick, the hierarchy of sisterwives and so much more.  And let me say this, I think they may be on to something.  I would totally consider the whole sister wives thing with a few stipulations. 1) I would have to be the 1st wife because she is the HSIC (Head sisterwife in charge) and pretty much calls all the shots. 2) There would be no sharing of my husband sexually.  My sister wives would be more like gal pals who help clean my house, cook and take care of my kids. 3) I would not wear the “poof”.

The Poof. It's a thing!

The Poof. It’s a thing!



I don’t even know where to start with this one.  Yet another culture I can ogle from the comfort of my bedroom.  If you haven’t seen My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding or Gypsy Sisters, you are seriously missing out and we may not be able to be friends.  These women are out of their effing minds.  It’s a culture with so many paradoxes and it blows my mind.  For starters, there are strict rules regarding Gypsy women.  They cannot really date, cannot even kiss a boy before marriage and if they have premarital sex they are damaged goods (same goes for being divorced and/or having illegitimate children), they must have male family members escort them everywhere and are groomed to be proper, submissive Gypsy wives.  But…and here’s the kicker.  They dress like the trashiest whores you have ever seen. They are one set of nipple tassels away from the pole.

Let's play the game Gypsy or Stripper?

Let’s play the game Gypsy or Stripper?

Totally reminds me of my baby shower

Totally reminds me of my baby shower


And the weddings are insane! They all commission a dress-maker from Boston, Sondra Celli, to make these over-the-top wedding ensembles which must cost tens of thousands of dollars. (FUN FACT: Sondra was also commissioned to make the Bat Mitzvah dress of my blonde bestie, Jenni. Way to be a trendsetter!)  They tell her they want it so big they literally can’t walk down the aisle. And oh boy does she deliver. Check out these gems.

Wild Wedding

Slutty Eskimo Theme

Slutty Eskimo Theme

Her groom might have died of asphyxiation before the reception

Her groom might have died of asphyxiation before the reception

Vitamin Water Zero:

With this one, it’s possible I need an intervention. As if it’s not enough that I buy it in bulk at Costco, now I act like it’s Armageddon every time I see them at Target or Publix on sale. I fill my cart like I’m on Supermarket Sweep and my adrenaline pumps at unnatural levels for this type of occasion, as if they are never going to be on sale again.  They’re pretty much on sale every 2 weeks.  I am a Target-spree away from being on an episode of Hoarders.

Rebel House:

If we are friends, and you haven’t accidentally stumbled on this blog, you know about my Rebel House addiction. Jason and I go on average once a week.  We get the same things every time (Rebel Fried Rice, Spicy Tuna Chop Chop, Fat Kid Fantasy), maybe branching out and trying something new which has a 50/50 shot of being added to our repertoire (Mushroom Fonduta made it to the round-up from this process).  Many of the waiters know us (I’m talking know what we order, know us), and if I was even on Four Square, I’d be the Mayor of that joint.  I even approached the GM last week about a menu addition dedicated to us…stay tuned. If it really happens (which I doubt it will), I would lose my cookies. If anyone deserves it, it’s us.

McDonald’s Iced Coffee:

Every morning. Same drive through. Same order. Medium Iced Coffee, no liquid sugar, extra ice, three splenda.  Occasionally a little voice from the back yells, “Don’t forget the liquid sugar!” to which I have to assure them my original order is the one I want.  She thinks she’s hilarious.  The drive-through lady knows my order so well that on the occasions Jason gets it for me on the weekends she says, “Right order, wrong person” when he pulls up.

Some Phrases I love:

You’re the bees knees (interchangeable with You’re a peach)

Fake the Funk

Down like two flat tires

Hooked up like cable

Does a bear shit in the woods?

On like donkey kong

Lookout cookout and Now we’re cooking with gas (thanks Cuffy)

Rap Music:

I am totally a little bit gangster.  I’d say I’m about a third ghetto.  I have the butt, the dance moves and the undying love of rap/hip hop.  Don’t let my Boca mom, SUV-driving exterior fool you.

There’s so much more but  I have to draw the line for now.  Plus, Biggie just came on and I can’t type while I twerk.