I like mine with lettuce and tomato...they like their's with cornichons, fleur de sel and fresh thyme?


After nine years of French classes I could say that I am fluent.

Yes, I could say I am fluent...but it would be a lie.

However, after all those years of French professors and speakers and films, I never had to step foot in Paris to understand the attitude of those Frenchies. To be honest, most people probably don't have to step foot in a French classroom to understand their take on Americans- it's common knowledge.

Their feelings towards us aren't necessarily those of love and they have a tendency to think they're somewhat superior.

Which is why I wasn't shocked when I discovered that although they're succumbing to the American way on a whole new level (with burgers!), they felt the need to make their burgers a little fancier, a little more gourmet. This is no Big Mac.

It is funny, though, that something the French once considered too greasy, unrefined and American, is now in high demand from Monaco to Brest.

It seems that although they might feel their government is better than ours and their lifestyles are healthier, maybe they shouldn't hate on loud American tourists quite so much.

I mean, the first time I saw Finding Nemo, it was in French. And I've been told that when you walk around Paris, 90% of the music is American...

So maybe, the French should send a little love our way. And if they're lucky, maybe we'll send a little love (and American culture) right back to them. Before we know it, they're going to be putting a Waffle House in the basement of the Louvre.

Play with caution.

When you're little, there are three steps to playing:

1. Set-up
2. Play
3. Put away

For most kids, step number two, the playing portion of the process is the most appealing. However, my favorite step was the set-up.

The toy with the best set-up process was without a doubt Playmobil.

Within that miniature mansion there were so many possibilities. How would you decorate the kitchen? Which bedroom was for the parents and which was for the kids? Where would Elsa, the maid, sleep? What food was on the table? Should the bookshelf go in the hearth room or the library? Should the flowers be arranged with pink in one box and white in another, or should they be mixed? (...!)

Absolutely endless hours of fun, all wrapped up in the preparation to play.

I tried to be compliant when the set-up was finished and my friends actually wanted to play with the toys. I just didn't like it, though.

What if someone messed up the bedroom? Or what if, when trying to reach to the stove in the back of the kitchen, someone knocked over the tiny (but perfectly set) kitchen table?

These were just a few of my many fears. With all of the careful preparation and hard work, why take the risk of messing it up?

Miss USA is probably still asking herself that very question. She'd made it so far. She looked beautiful. Everything was perfect and just right.

And then, she fell.

(My Playmobil kitchen table falling to the ground doesn't look so bad compared to Miss USA falling to the ground.)

I'm impressed, though, with her endurance. She popped right back up, clapping and smiling all the way.

While she did not appear to be fazed by the long journey she took falling from those high heels, I bet now she is wishing she had stuck with the set-up portion of the show, and steered clear of the playing part. I can only imagine how messy the clean-up portion of her evening was.

Busy hands are happy hands?


I could have worked out. I could have done laundry. I could have driven halfway home.

This was the list going through my head as I rounded out my fourth hour at the salon this morning. It took over four hours for a color and cut (a trim, nonetheless).

But as I sat there, watching to clock tick by, feeling more and more anxious about the time I was guiltily wasting with each movement of the second hand, I forced myself to take a deep breath. I didn’t really have that much to do today. I’d allotted a sufficient amount of time for the other intended activities on my to-do list.

And yet, I couldn’t completely relax. I couldn’t fully enjoy the conversation with the kind hairstylist without wondering if she could add in those foils a little more efficiently if she weren’t talking with her hands.

So I smiled and maintained the conversation, all the while attempting to contain the feeling I get when I’ve been sitting too long. It’s the feeling when you can’t stop tapping your foot and you eventually begin to tap it so quickly you think your toes might fall off.

But, I couldn’t tap my foot because I didn’t want to mess up the cut.

So instead, as I sat in the leather seat, asking about colors and washes and shampoos, I squeezed the fingers of one hand in the other, and then I switched hands. Back and forth, over and over, until my fingers hurt and my hands were tired from all the squeezing.

That’s when I realized that something was wrong with me.

Not just me, though. Something is wrong with the majority of women my age. Both I and many of my friends are afflicted with what I call efficientitis.

It comes in many forms.

One set of symptoms revolves around checklists. It is the feeling that if you don’t have a checklist in hand, and you’re not continually checking things off at all times, you’re insufficient. Many who experience the symptoms of the checklist cannot throw a list away until everything is crossed off (even if it’s July 11 and the item under scrutiny is: “June 13: Ask Sara how flight was”, the checklistee cannot throw it away until the question is asked. It’s problematic.)

In some rare cases, after they’ve completed an activity that was not on the checklist (such as “shower”) they feel the need to add it to the list, just so they can check it off. Obviously, they add it to the list in the original color the list was written in. Also, this person would actually have a heart attack if her planner went MIA.

Others may experience symptoms such as struggling to watch TV or talk on the phone without also performing another activity (classic multitaskers). And still others cannot go to bed at night if everything in their life is not put into the correct place, because, if they don’t put it away tonight, they’ll have to put it away in the morning, thus throwing off the plan for the following day (the anal ones).

And some really sad cases experience all of the aforementioned symptoms on a regular basis.

Just in case you didn’t realize I was speaking from personal experience, I’ll clarify. The sad case I speak of: me.

Therefore, as I sat in the plush leather chair, being shampooed and brushed and styled and pampered, I decided that for just these four hours, maybe I should try and let go. Maybe I should just listen to the girl’s nice stories and relax a little bit.

And so I did. I took a deep breath, had a sip of my water, and asked her another question.

Of course, I made sure to recalculate my afternoon plan in order to ensure I have enough time to run errands and do laundry before dinner. One step at a time.

Mr. and Mrs. Smith are just like you and me

I really didn't want to like her. I wanted to play for the other team. I cheered for the nice girl and I tried not to see what he saw in her. I tried to think of her as the inappropriate husband-stealing-mistress.

But, I've certainly failed. Because I like her. Can you blame me, though?

Angelina Jolie
is philanthropic, talented, confident and beautiful.

She and Brad Pitt are beautiful together and while their family is certainly not typical, it seems to work.

As I was reading Vanity Fair's recent article about Jolie, I was impressed. So many other couples, from Hollywood to Dollywood and everywhere in between, aim for the archetypal family.

But Pitt and Jolie aren't masquerading as a normal family. They admit that they're doing it differently. From the beginning of their relationship, it's been unconventional.

They began on a movie set while Pitt was married to Aniston. They pushed through criticism and Team Jennifer shirts. They adopted kids, had their own babies, and never once uttered the words "let's get married."

And it works. It's not normal. It's not typical. And yet, they make it look so good.

What's funny is that they've recently been compared to the Brady Bunch, now that they have six kids.

This is humorous because the Brady's, although brought together under uncommon circumstances, quickly became the average American family.

They represented the typical American problems in a time when divorce was looked down upon and spoken of in hushed tones.

And now, we hardly think twice about divorce.

Are Brad and Angelina forging a trail for a new type lifestyle? Today, although their circumstances are unusual, they represent the love of a normal family. (No, Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie are not common people. But let's be honest, Marcia wasn't normal either, she was perfect.)

Maybe eventually we won't think twice about unwed couples outside of Hollywood having numerous kids. Maybe shotgun wedding will be an obsolete term. Why would you have a shotgun wedding when no one is ashamed of having kids outside of marriage? Why not wait until you have your body back post-pregnancy for those wedding photos to be taken? Why not do what you want?

We all know Angelina does what she wants.