Britney Spears

Chris Brown and Rihanna collaboration: media hype or seriously disturbing?

I was one of those people who used to think Rihanna and Chris Brown were adorable together. In fact, I hadn't crushed on a couple like that since Justin and Britney strutted into the VMAs wearing their matching denim outfits. But Chris and Rihanna seemed to be the real deal-both at the top of their game, and cute as hell.

Until he beat the living shit out of her.

Just like any public relationship that we all help put on a pedestal, it came crashing down when the curtains were pulled back to reveal the ugly truth-that their relationship was unhealthy and abusive.  The pictures released of Rihanna post-beating were graphic and disturbing.  But even more disturbing was Chris Brown's hollow apologies for his actions and anger at any interviewer that GOD FORBID bring it up while he was trying to promote his new album.  His lack of ANY remorse left a bad taste in my mouth and also made it difficult to separate Chris Brown, the guy who makes great music from Chris Brown, the dickhead who beat his girlfriend within an inch of her life.

But, this is America, and we'll forgive just about anything if you lay low for long enough. (Marv Albert, I'm talking to you!)  So when Chris Brown performed at this year's Grammys, I didn't think too much of it.  No, I wasn't going to buy his albums, but I wasn't surprised that he was back on the main stage.

But when I heard that he and Rihanna had collaborated on not one but TWO singles and were rumored to perform on American Idol together later this season, I wanted to puke up all the Cheezits I had downed while I thought no one was looking. (Damn you, salty goodness!) This was also followed by reports that the couple was back together.  Which left me, sitting in front of my computer, holding a empty bag of Cheezits and saying, WHAT THE F*CK!

Where is Rihanna's support system? I know she's an adult who makes her own decisions, but someone fell asleep at the wheel on this one. And history tells us that Chris Brown's pattern of abuse is determined to repeat itself, you just don't brutally kick the shit out of someone as a fluke. But what scares me even more is the message this sends to impressionable young men and women. It's okay to be someone who uses violence to solve your relationship issues. It's okay to beat up your girlfriend, she's going to take you back AND perform on American Idol with you too!

I would guess most of us have been in some sort of abusive relationship at one time or another.  Maybe they were over controlling and put you down so that you wouldn't ever dream that you deserved better.  Or maybe they pushed you around and made you feel like you couldn't leave. It's a fact that many women stay in abusive relationships because they just don't feel like they have any other options.  And this Rihanna/Chris Brown shit certainly is not going to help give them the strength figure out that they do.

But I get it.  Rihanna certainly didn't sign up to become the battered women spokesperson and has the right to make all the terrible decisions she wants. Just like we have the right to talk all kinds of smack about it here. But I think American Idol should know better and be concerned with the message they're sending by inviting them to perform rather than trying desperately to drive ratings because they're scared The Voice has become more relevant.

What do YOU think? Am I overreacting or does the thought of Chris Brown and Rihanna performing together make you want to puke your Cheezits too? Tell me!

xo, Liz




How to be Zen in 2010 by Liz & Lisa

staten-island-new-year32010? Really? How did another decade pass so quickly? It seems like just yesterday that we were LOLing over Janet Jackson's wardrobe malfunction at the Superbowl and shaking our own heads full of hair when Britney Spears shaved hers. Do we even need to bring up that fake British accent?

When the clock struck midnight on New Year's Eve last week, Lisa grabbed her iPhone and kept up our yearly tradition of ringing in the first minutes of the new year, no matter how far we may be from each other.  And after a few awkward moments of slurred screaming, Liz drunkenly declared that 2010 was going to be OUR year.

The year we land an awesome agent!

The year that we get our just-finished manuscript published!


Okay, so forget that last one.  It was probably the Champagne talking.  But the other ones?   So. Happening.

So being the Type-A bitches that we are, we decided to set up some serious resolutions to make sure our dreams come true in 2010.


I couldn't WAIT to say sayonara to 2009.  Between my brother's brush with death to the stress of trying to finish our manuscript, it was a crazy year!  I woke up January 1st with a feeling of peace (and not just because I was still buzzed from my bellinis!) and a feeling that 2010 will be the year that we attain our goals.  Here  are the things I'm resolving to change in 2010...

1. Lose the *gulp* six pounds I gained this holiday season. I promise to never again stand at my kitchen counter and devour 1800 calories of Costco lobster spread and  stale baguette while the Say Yes to the Dress Christmas marathon blares in the family room.

2. Refuse to even crack a smile the next time my husband makes a Jersey Shore joke when the words "The Situation" are used in normal conversation.

3. To start jogging at least three times a week in preparation for the Huntington Beach Superbowl Sunday 5K.  Related Resolution: Stop letting the kids use my unused Bosu ball as a trampoline.

4. Resist making multiple embarrassing references about Lisa's dating past during my Matron of Honor speech at her wedding next month. And make sure to get official MOH dress properly fitted so that my cleavage is not the main attraction at the reception. Related resolution: To control urges to repeatedly request Lady GaGa songs while intoxicated.

5. To try to figure out a better cursing system since my five year old seems to have developed an affinity for spelling.  Damn you California public school system!  I was counting on your low ranking to buy me at least another year.  What the F-*-C-K?


I've never been the kind to make a vow on New Year's Eve that I'll do "this" or "that" the following year. That's probably because every year my resolution would've pretty much been the same.

FIND A MAN Or: Related Resolution: Find a man that's not a jerk. Or: Related Resolution: Find a man who's not AS MUCH OF a jerk as the last. Or Related Resolution: Find a decent vibrator.

Well, now that I'm proud to report I've not only found a great man but he can also confidently co-exist in the same house with certain said paraphernelia, I'm in a resolution kind of mood.

1. Lose five pounds. Damn you,! You just won't back off. You keep sending me emails that the wedding is less than two months away (BTW- I know that!) and that I'd better get. in. shape.  I can't help that during the holidays I gave into that extra piece of pie or that, er, third helping of mashed potatoes because I knew my big, bulky, Midwestern sweaters would hide the weight! Related Resolution: Simply stop eating meat and potatoes for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

2. Stop wearing sweatpants and bulky socks to bed. I preface this by saying that it's 15 degrees DURING THE DAY here. Don't even talk to me about the night. But, yes we have a heater and a humidifier. (I only just learned what the latter was). So, there's really no excuse for how incredibly unsexy I've been this winter (sorry honey!). So, in the words of Justin Timberlake, I vow to bring sexy back! (Or at the very least to lose the socks)!  Related Resolution: Stop canceling on my bi-weekly wax appointment!

3. Stop buying cute winter clothes. I can't help it. When it's cold as balls and you're face is red and your skin is dry, you at least want to dress in a cute outfit to try to offset all the winter-induced ugliness. This California girl used to happily live in a world where UGGS were worn only on nights that dipped below 60 degrees.  So once she discovered the many, many styles of cute boots and coats, it was ovuh.

4. Get over my burning desire to do the Macarana at my wedding. Matt's said it won't be funny. My mom threw her arms up in disgust. Even Liz gave me the eye.  So, I know I can't tell my DJ to play it now because it won't be any fun to do the dance by myself. But I refuse to give up Bel Biv Divoe, Rob Base or Shout! (Yeah, you read that right!) Related Resolution: Keep Liz from the DJ so she can't request Lady GaGa. Nothing ruins a buzz faster than her rendition of Paparazzi!

HAPPY NEW YEAR From Chick Lit is not Dead!  Now, tell us- what are your 2010 resolutions?


Liz & Lisa

Study Guide by Liz

Get a colonoscopy. Listen to Miley Cyrus and Britney Spears discuss world politics.

Be a contestant on Survivor.

*rings buzzer* What are "Things Liz would rather do than study?"


I've never been the "studious" type.  In fact, and I've never really been a "details" type of girl and well, quite frankly, cramming really cramps my style.

So you may find it funny that I pursued a career in an industry where constant learning in essential and testing your knowledge is a common occurence.  But somehow, I always found a way to make it work...Until I had kids.

I had always thought it was a myth that you can't remember shit after having children. Um, yeah. I couldn't have been more wrong.  Since giving birth to mine, I can barely remember where my keys are each day, let alone memorize the statistical analysis of seven clinical trials.  In fact, I spent twenty minutes frantically searching for my bluetooth last week, only to find it...on my ear. And the only thing I seem to be able to remember these day is who won last week's elimination challenge on Top Chef and the plotline for Grey's Anatomy.

Not to mention the fact that all this haphazard studying makes me feel like I've boarded a time machine and traveled to...1994. Like I'm pulling an all-nighter in the Cal Poly library so I can flirt with that cute boy from Communication 101 (Because really, is there any other reason to pull an all-nighter?) and attempting in vain to figure out how the f*ck to work the Lexis Nexis. Yeah, you heard me right, Lexis Nexis.  I've just officially  admitted that I attended college before internet was available.  Back then, we were so looking forward to seeing what that "Information Superhighway" was all about.  And the only way to research a paper was to actually open a book. *insert dinosaur jokes here*

Back then, my biggest worry was what I would wear to that night's sorority mixer or what drink wouldn't make me throw up on the way home in Marty Mazda .  So, because  I just can't  get Whatta Man by Salt N Pepa out of my head, I've decided to take a break from memorizing P values and take a leisurely stroll down memory lane...Care to join me?

Lisa & Liz, early 90s fashion victim edition


1. Brown-braided belt with polo shirt with penny loafers

Why Lisa and I felt the need to deny any and all sex appeal in order to channel our inner-male with this ensemble will always baffle me.  And I think we actually put a penny in our loafers.  Gag!  To this day, I still can't shake my aversion for collared shirts.  NEVUH AGAIN, I SAY!

2. The soundtrack to The Bodyguard

I don't want to call anyone out(Lisa) but someone(Lisa) REALLY liked this soundtrack.  And that someone would sing it very loudly, as if they were channeling Whitney Houston herself.  ALOT.  Okay, okay, maybe I sang with her.  Sometimes.

3.  Gas for $1.09 and homes for $119,000

Do you think they'll let me fill up my time machine before I head home?  Or just stay and make an offer on that place I've had my eye on?  Because I'd be willing to tolerate scrunchies and the rise of the Spice Girls again if it meant I could have affordable housing!

4. Bobby McGee's

If you needed to find me on any given Thursday, Friday or Saturday, I'd be here in my shortest skort doing the poor-man's electric slide or shaking my ass to the Macarena.  And I used to wonder why I was single?

5.  The "Rachel" haircut

Oh, how I wanted this haircut.  In fact, "The Rachel" is the whole reason I got off my ass and learned how to straighten my hair.  Because although the 80's were kind to those of us who were follically challenged, the nineties had no such patience. Unfortunately, I never did quite perfect my "Rachel", prompting others to refer to it as the "Rochelle", her slightly frizzy second cousin.

What was your Must List in the nineties?

xoxo, Liz

Potty Peril by Liz

ist2_1985576_i_did_it_potty_training_a_boy People that know me well will tell you that I'm not a scaredy cat by nature. That I laugh in the face of danger!  Okay, so maybe I don't laugh at it, but I will snicker at it occasionally.

But I must admit there are a few things that strike fear in my heart.  Things that are so horrible that I get a shiver down my spine just thinking of them.  Things like bad bikini waxes and colon cleanses. Or the thought of Britney and K-Fed getting back together.  Or something else that I experienced this weekend and lived to blog about.

Potty Training.

Okay, so maybe I'm being slightly melodramatic.  After all, my daughter figured it out in three hours flat.  We were shopping at Target and getting our nails painted by 3pm! But this time around, we weren't dealing with a sweet, people-pleasing little girl.  We were dealing with a dick.  Well, um, I mean a penis.  Well, what I really mean is that he has a penis.  And I was tasked this weekend with showing that stubborn little boy what to do with it.

After this experience, I'm shaking my head at the assumption that men are supposed to be the superior gender.  Whoever said that has obviously never potty trained one!  I'm definitely voting for Hilary next time.

And while I'm happy to report that things seem to be going well after an incredibly rocky start,(who knew that they were supposed to sit down on the potty?  Sorry!  I've only seen it done standing up!) I thought I would share some pearls of wisdom that came to me in the past 48 hours.

Liz's Potty Pearls of wisdom

1. Take the time to give proper names to anatomy so that your daughter doesn't keep telling your son to push his "vagina stick" down so he doesn't pee all over the floor.

2. Okay, so the first time he took a dump in his Hulk underwear I thought he just didn't get it.  The second time I questioned my potty game plan.  The third time, I realized he was just f*cking with me.  Typical man!

3. Don't go out drinking the night before, no matter how much fun that harbor cruise sounds. Keeping your gag reflex in check is a lot harder with a hangover. (See number 2.)

4. I know I already mentioned this, but it must be said again: Why doesn't anyone tell you about the whole sitting down thing? And watching him shove his penis down like a bag of weed he's trying to hide?  I'll never be the same again.

5. What?  He's just asked me to leave the bathroom so he could have his "privacy"?  Is this same kid that peed on his bike two hours ago?  I see that like most men, it didn't take him too long to get "cocky". (pun intended.)

xoxo Liz