Dixon, Jaclyn Dixon. Agent 38D

People are usually shocked when I tell them how much I love James Bond movies. And I get it. To look at me, I scream, "romcom".  And I never met a Lifetime Original Movie that I didn't die for.  But there's something about 007- even though generally all of the explosives and gunfire tends to give me a case of the poops, I think it's super sexy and all of the misogynistic behavior and martinis remind me of my college days.

I don't know why but I just love the guns, the accents, the sex without showing anything! It's so friggin good and every time I watch them I walk away wondering, "what am I doing with my life? I really should be a spy!".  It's like how I genuinely take a solid 5 minutes to consider joining the army every. single. time. I watch Private Benjamin. But I digress.  Back to Bond. 

'Skyfall' was particularly magnificent.  And I was so anti-Daniel Craig I'd never even seen his first two installments but now I'm all about it which is ironic considering I'm pretty sure this was it for him.  But combine his abs and accent with Adele singing the title song in what seemed to me a  ode to Dame Shirley Bassey and the Bond ballads of yore, and I was puddy in Mr Dixon's hands afterwards despite the presence of an overly rowdy Indian family of 30 who felt it was entirely appropriate to bring 4 children under the age of 5 and my public declaration that I could, "feel my ovaries choking me".

This Bond was very dark.  And very Judy Dench and that's never a bad thing.  And just when I'd think it couldn't get any better, Ralph Fiennes showed up. And then Javier Bardem showed up. They double teamed me! I mean I was being repeatedly hit with a tranquilizer gun full of  Academy Award Winning sass and sex appeal and it was just a lot to deal with.  I'm predicting Oscar nominations for Javier and sweet Judy.  You heard it here first.

The Belt of St Paul

If you only knew how much I loved Linda Eder singing The Bells of St Paul.  You would know what it means to be in love.

I lose my shit every. single. time.

Also....I imagine that MY Christmas album cover would feature me, a cowl neck sweater, and a kidden.  Horses are great. But they're not kiddens.

The Chemical Peel

I couldn't be another holistic health so and so titling a blog, "Green Your Routine"...I'd have to slit my throat - and I'm hella busy and ain't nobody got time for that....
So, "The Chemical Peel" it is!

What I'm talking about today is peeling away at that onion of our traditional beauty routine...ridding ourselves of the toxicity that exists in so many mainstream products out there and finding a better way to stay sassy!  It's become something of an obsession of mine lately, when a few small efforts to make my regimen more au naturele yielded some divine results.  I was hooked and now I want more.  It's just like when I started watching The L Word and everyone thought I was a lesbian. Sort of.

below are some of my new necessities that...oh..fuck it,.... "green my routine":

• Organic Virgin Coconut Oil~

When I was in Santa Barbara this summer for my best friend's wedding (JULIA ROBERTS! JINX!) I noticed her sister dipping into a jar of coconut oil and using it as moisturizer.  I had heard tell of this but never saw real people putting it into play and my best friends sister is really pretty.  Like, really pretty. So naturally, I had that moment of, "if I use that maybe I will also have huge boobs and no stomach!".  Sadly...my breasts remain large...and my belly remains in charge.  BUT...well, BUTT, cellulite has noticeably stopped waging war on my soul and thighs and I shave less.  I used to have to shave my legs like every five seconds, I would step out of the shower and magically grow an inch of hair-I was a yeti.  But now, I'm more of a chia pet and I can get away with 2 days razor free and that's monumental.  The other thing I love about coconut oil is that a little goes a long way so one jar will likely see you through a very long period of time where as you generally have to replenish your moisturizer monthly,which can get costly- not to mention the fact that it basically works on EVERYTHING. In addition to moisturizer, it has also replaced those incredibly expensive (not to mention toxic) eye make up remover pads I used to buy constantly.  A little dab of coconut oil on a cotton ball or qtip and, "I'm a pretty girl, Mama".

But the best benefit without a doubt, is that when you use something all natural like coconut oil to cleanse and moisturize you're nourishing your skin - not filling open pores with toxic, cancer causing chemicals. And that's lovely because I don't know about you, but I'm le tired of le cancer.

• Jonathan Product Adds Moisture Conditioner/TJ MAXX~

This one's a double whammy.  TJ Maxx has been long adored by my friends and I and long loathed by my husband and our checking account.  I find things we never knew we needed there- hot pink velvet clothes hangers, ottomans, and most importantly tons of designer products for a fraction of the price (do you hear me calling, TJ?? Make me your next Maxxinista, immediately)!  When I stumbled upon Jonathan Product for $7 f'ing bucks during my last pilgrimage, I gasped loudly and immediately text the photographic evidence to my sister.  We were devotees of Jonathan's during the Bravo BLOWOUT days. A reality tv epic that stole our hearts and made us long for a male hairdresser to call our own, but even if we couldn't have Jonathan, at least we could have his products. Jonathan's products are, "FREE of sulfates, parabens, phthalates, gluten and mineral oil. 100% vegan*  Everything your hair needs, nothing it doesn't"  I love this product- but oddly not as a conditioner.  Ya know what I use this for?  That's right. The yeti leg hair!  This is so soothing to my sensitive, irish gams - and just like da coconuts, a little Jonathan goes a long way. That sounds kinda dirty. And I like it.

• A Fiercely, Functional Haircut

One thing I strive to teach my children, (Savannah and the kiddens) is that some costly purchases are well worth the investment. Chanel Sunglasses, DVF luggage, cashmere, and of course, your hair.  Even when I was a poor, college co-ed (adored by Manhattan Real Estate Brokers, FDNY, NYPD and a train conductor or two) I was always sure to set aside $5 to buy my first drink every weekend, and about $250 to maintain clean ends and the perfect honey blonde every 2 months.  Never let it be said that I didn't have my priorities in order.

When you have the right stylist and colorist it can solve a shit ton of problems but when the person maintaining your coif has you coming and going every few weeks because you wash your hair once and see roots then you are being played.  If your color is smart and your cut is sassy you can make it last and save some dough.  My Colorist, Miki, from Thunder Salon in Philadelphia is so choice.  I literally want to be her.  I not only look forward to our visits because there is a La Calombe coffee right next door, but more so because Miki is as delightful as she is talented ....and that's a whole lotta delight.  I have walked in there pre-menstrual and begging for change and Miki has talked me down and found the right low lights that give me enough of an update without dyeing it fire engine red as I am apt to initially proclaim I want to do.  (Miki also cuts beautifully!) Thunder Salon 110 South 19th Street  Philadelphia, PA 19103
(215) 563-2665

And then there is my Stylist.  Yes, I'm a hair hopper.  I go one place for color and one place for cut.  This is right for me you guys, and everyone's in the loop so no need to call Maury.

For my cut I go to Jenna at Verde Salon.  Jenna makes me want to write a Lifetime movie called, "My Stylist;My Lover".  She is like a unicorn with scissors and is perhaps the one stylist I feel like I could say, "do whatever you want" and I know I would be  happy with anything she created.  I used to be a lunatic about my hair...I mean it's still my thing but I now can leave the house with a wet head and not feel like its the apocalypse. And I'm sure that's also a result of much emotional work, meditations and affirmations but it's also because Jenna gives me a cut that no matter what I do, air dry, curl, straight, put it up- it looks good.  It's wild.  And that's how it should be.  She tells me the truth and doesn't talk me into $750 worth of shit I don't need.  Jenna don't play like that. And neither do I.  We are soul mates.  http://verdesalon.com/

• The Pits

OK.  Now don't judge me for this. But I don't shave my armpits anymore.  Well...I do.  But like once every two weeks.  When we shave we are opening up our pores in a serious way.  How many of you shave your pits and then promptly douse on antiperspirant? Right! I did too.  And I was constantly having violent reactions to the chemicals.  Scratching my armpits until they bled. And feeling pretty lousy in general.  I tried switching to natural deodorants but about 3 hours after I would apply them I would smell like a hoagie and I knew they weren't working.  I had some success with a crystal that you wet with water and rub around there but again....6 hours later...hoagie time.  My alternative?  I stopped shaving.  Not only do I find that this has greatly improved my bodies' chemistry (perhaps the lack of all those chemicals going right into my lymph system) but I sweat less there and the need for deodorant is a dwindling'!    I use a teeny tiny bit maybe once a day- again don't judge- that's all I need.  I shave once every two weeks when I see that look in my Husband's eye that says "I would like to have sex tonight without you keeping your arms at your sides" and that's when I use the rock crystal but the next day when I'm beastly again, a lil dab does me.  Now look, this is all me.  No one told me to do this.  I didn't read about it anywhere.  I don't think there's been any scientific study done to prove that this is good or bad for you.  All I know is the positive effect its had on me physically and emotionally.  I'm a big believer in taking control of your own health and being your own best preventative medicine.  Do what you can....things that can basically only help, not hurt you.  Not shaving my armpits in an effort to prevent chemicals from entering my bod is not hurting me.  And maybe it's helping me.
Now.  Take that look off your face and stop shaving your armpits!

• smelly and safe

No, this is not a follow up to the ballad of the unshaven armpit.  It's more of an ode to the eau.
When I started sifting through my products to see where I could start making changes that really matter it was really hard for me to own up to the idea that my perfume addiction was particularly toxic to my body.  I love perfume and I'm kind of a freak when it comes to it.  I can smell someone and almost instantly know what they're wearing.  But I read this article in my favorite liberal bias media outlet, The Huffington Post and realized sniffing people is not only a fun guessing game but it's probably also giving me cancer. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/samuel-s-epstein/toxic-chemicals_b_625648.html  So, I resolved to make that the next layer taken off on my chemical peel.  Trouble is, it's really hard to find an all natural perfume that doesn't smell like some mix of patchouli and b.o. - that's why during a recent stroll through the health and beauty aisle of the South Street Whole Foods, I was dazzled to snort this, http://www.loveandtoast.com/ ! And even more thrilled when my Husband liked the way it waffed.  We almost never agree on fragrances for me.  I'm my own woman but I always like the idea that the perfume I wear is attractive and seductive to my significant other's senses so this was a total win/win for the Dixons.  Its safe, its smelly, it's sexy.  I lerve it. 


So my little Lymphonistas! That's the beginning...and please let me know how you've started to peel away at the layers of a previously toxic beauty routine! I'd love to hear from you.

Bisous!
JKD

Friends Don't Let Friends Hurt

Sometimes when I start to ask, "why?" I feel so sick to my stomach.  And it's not a question of , "can I cry?" it's only a question of, "if I start, will I ever stop?"

My best friend is not supposed to hurt.  Not anymore.  She has hurt enough.  She was a good kid.  She is a good person.  She always has been.  And good people don't deserve this bull shit.

I was a horrible kid.  I have been a horrible person some times.  I didn't make the smart, responsible choices she consistently did.  I didn't know my own credit score until I was 22.  And it was only because SHE showed me.  I risked and was asshole-y to the 9th power our whole lives.  And I should be sick.  I should hurt for her.  I wore bras with underwire in them when we were obnoxious, angst ridden teens because I wanted my boobs to look big in my sleep.  "that causes breast cancer" she would tell me.  And sometimes I would think to myself, "well Marilyn Monroe did it and she died of a drug overdose (or Kennedy inflicted coma).  Not breast cancer" and then other times I would just take off the bra and let my bug bite sized boobs take a break.

I should have this.  I have a really strong constitution.  Well...I don't.   But I will!  I will if it means she won't have to hurt. I will if it means my friend stays unharmed. I will.  I want to.  I would rather.  And I can't.  And it isn't fair.  There is nothing about it that could ever be fair.  And I can't make enough soups.  I can't order enough presents.  I can't write enough cards. I can't make it go away. 

I can't. And it isn't fair.

Sandy my darlin, you hurt me real bad.

Sophomore year of High School I ate lunch at a table full of nice Jewish boys.  They were dorky but super cute, they thought I was funny, and we all shared a love of satiric comedy and good deli.  A few days ago one of them (they're now all Lawyers) made an wise, if not also obvious observation,

"As I'm watching almost my entire group of friends and family in NJ and NY have to deal with the mess of hurricane Sandy may I make just one observation: over a period of 48 to 72 hours we saw a category one hurricane merge into a tropical storm system forming a weather system designated as a "superstorm" which now stands as the largest Atlantic hurricane on record based on diameter. Then after ca

using violent flooding, gale force winds and some of the largest storm surges ever recorded this superstorm merged into a winter storm system creating blizzard like conditions (a rare weather phenomenon known as the Fujiwhara effect). Maybe it's time we have collectively have that conversation regarding the impact we're having on on the global climate because after the variety of extreme weather events hitting the northeast over the past few years (think snowtober, hurricane irene) I have a feeling that somewhere Al Gore is muttering to himself, "told you so". " - Lee Licata

 

Lee said it better than I could have hoped to.  Now I'm not saying that right now is the moment to have the debate about global warming......though that debate should be had and preferably before the next earthquake hits new jersey....

 

No, now is a time to come together- as many of us already have- and take care of your neighbor.  Take a moment to be grateful for what you have, of course, but move FORWARD and turn that gratitude into giving.  Everyone can do something.  Everyone can give something.  It doesn't have to be money.  We have homeless in this country who had nothing to start, now they have nothing and are soaking wet, freezing cold and many are forgotten.  We have retirees who thought now was the time to sit back and relax who are literally picking up the pieces.  We can help them! The clean up can begin and the problems can be solved much faster if we are working together as a global family. 

 

I do not think it is a coincidence that at a time when the elections and the disgust brought about by politics had so many ready to fight their brothers and sisters- the earth washed over us quite literally and a great storm has now brought the family back to the communal table to set aside differences and work together to heal.  You don't have to believe in religion to believe in miracles.  The miracle is happening.  But it should not take tidal waves to create bipartisanship - we should not need death and despair to care for others.  But here we are.  So what do we do now?  Care more. Love more. Hold tight and help your family.  Meet the brothers and sisters you never knew you had and help them because the change starts with us and we are in the middle of a huge movement and a powerful time.

 

Will you harness this power and change the world? Because you can.

The Not So Secret Diary of a StepMom

I'm so lucky to say that I have a beautiful, strong, fulfilling relationship with my Stepdaughter.   
NOW.  
But getting to this happy, healthy place where she is happy to empty the dishwasher without placing a hex on me and I don't spend my time in the shower sobbing over some shisty Facebook post from peanut galleries of gremlins....well, it wasn't easy.  But the point is, we made it! We grew to accept and love one another.  We've learned to turn off outside noise and trust in the love we have for the family we've created.  And when all else fails... there's hot chocolate! And I know I'm not the only one, Melissa Ethridge, so here is my no-nonsense guide for step parent survival.


In The Beginning....Everyone Will Hate You. Accept This and Move On:

Here's the deal: You are a slut.  You are a bitch.  You are ruining everything!  Hey. You are probably even responsible for the war in Iraq!  The sooner you realize that this is likely the place where your stepchild and the voices around him/her are coming from, and that right now nothing you say or do will change that, the better off you will be. Change is hard- especially for kids and teenagers.  Change in the form of the new girlfriend is even harder.  It didn't matter how much fundraising I'd done for charity in my lifetime, that I was published in my college lit mag, that I had impeccable taste in accessories.  Supposedly, this stylish, generous, Carrie Bradshaw wannabe was going to take this child's father from her.  Gone were weekends with Daddy- now he was off to have sex! Sex, sex, and MORE sex. Or at least that's the story her head was filled with.  But in time, as her weekends with her father carried on without interruption, as we spent time together making our own memories, as she saw that I was not interfering with her having a relationship with her Dad she started to come around.  I also painted her room purple.  That helped. It's hard not to let it get you when it feels like everyone hates you but guess what?  No matter how amazing your hair is (and mine is pretty amazing) not everyone is going to like you.  But rest assured, it's temporary and sooner or later the ones who matter  come around.

You are NOT the Mother! "You have all the responsibilities and no rights"

One weekend when my now-husband's daughter was staying with us, I offered her some biotin because she had mentioned about 95 times that she wanted her hair and nails to grow.  Thinking it was all natural and that I myself took it on a daily basis, I thought nothing of filling up a ziploc bag of the small white pills and wrote instructions on a post-it smiling deep within myself.  "I'm so helpful. And when her hair is long and her nails are strong, she will have me to thank!".  Meanwhile...it looked like I sent her home ready for a sleepover at Charlie Sheen's.  Later, that night as I regaled my man with my efforts to save mankind, starting with his daughter's hair and nails- he reminded me, "Babe.  You're not her Mom.  I know you mean well but at the end of the day they're still pills, and she's not your daughter." And let me remind you my darlings, that there are plenty of people waiting in the wings who would love to have you arrested. Filthy, biotin pusher that you are! 
 
You don't have to be apart of their world all the time, Ariel:

 I love the Holidays, particularly Christmas.  And I have my own magical, eccentric, holiday traditions with my family that were created long before I became a Wife and Mom and some times it can be a real bitch leaving some of mine behind, replacing them with the traditions of my new family.  But that's being a grown up.  But one thing I've learned is that some things are sacred and I don't have to fit in to every, single memory.  Some moments are just for my Husband and his daughter, just as other moments are just for he and I.  These moments include the nightmare that is the Dicken's Christmas Village in Macy's.  They can keep that special moment for themselves.  I'll get a bikini wax and take my SAT's over again.  My point is, It's so ok to have boundaries.  It doesn't mean you're not trying.  It means you respect their relationship and know they should have time together that is just theirs (and that you hate crowds and animated carol singers). You show your stepchild that you respect their relationship with their parent and are not a threat. 


Social Networking is not for the fainthearted:
 
Ugh....the fake name I created years ago to see how my boyfriend's daughter felt about me gave me a lot of insight.  It also gave me irritable bowel syndrome.  If you're not up for kicking back with a cold one while everyone on the world wide web rants about how many lives you're ruining just by breathing, don't join facebook.  The good news?  It gets better.  And before you know it you're getting tagged in pictures of kiddens and 'thank yous' for making it, "the best birthday EVER!".



Let Go and Let Husband

I know it's hard but remember that so many of the battles ahead will not be yours to fight.  Let go, and let husband.  If you can learn to take a deep breath and do this, you will have solved so many problems for yourself because you will realize how much unnecessary stress you were taking on.  Some burdens just aren't yours to bear.  You can be there for support but sometimes you just don't call the shots.  Simmer down.


Remember, You're the Grown Up

A lot of times as parents we're encouraging our daughter to, "be the bigger person" but I find myself struggling - often- to remember to do this for myself.  But I have to.  Don't engage in nonsense and remember when you find yourself about to use strong words,  reflect back to the unimaginable horror that it is highly likely you were as a  child and teenager.  God is punishing you for how douchey you were to your parents. Just walk away and make yourself some Yogi tea. Tomorrow's another day.
If You Can't Say Something Nice, Don't Drink Alcohol

Here's the bottom line: the truth comes out when you drink your weight in skinnygirl margaritas and almost everything sounds like a good idea.  But even if you think that RIGHT NOW is the perfect time to cross enemy lines and finally discuss why we all just can't get along via text, it isn't. Sleep it off.  You can thank me later.

Just BE There
It's so simple.  All you have to do is be there.  Be there, waiting in the wings because one day you will be wanted.  You will be needed.  You will be the one they come to for help.  Just listen and love.  Share what it is you have to offer and let them know they are heard and they are loved.  That's the best and most wonderful thing you can do and those moments are worth more than anything. I truly believe in life, you get what you need.  My Stepdaughter needed me and I needed her.  



'When we accept that there has to be a better way we set of a universal alarm' ~ Gabrielle Bernstein

Hipster Halloween decorating that's easy to live with & My definitive list of Holiday films and songs

I'm really not into Halloween.  I want to be.  I wish I had more friends who were drag queens with the desire to deck me out and suit me up in finery.  Pushing, pinning and tweaking all my wobbly bits into some magical Chris March-ery but it never happens.  Each year I swear that this will be the year I make myself the most magnificent mermaid costume in the Universe.  Reminiscent of- but even more fabulous than, Cher's in Mermaids.  And before I know it- it's 6pm on October 31st and I'm smudging eyeliner across my face into whiskers and meowing at hateful children who always take more than, "just one!". 

I also don't understand people who "decorate" for Halloween.  I'm not criticizing.  Well I am, but I'll be passive aggressive about it.   I would sooner slit my throat then put a sign on my lawn that says, "An Old Witch and an Angry Werewolf Live Here".  And I hate pumpkin carving.  I particularly hate how good my Husband is at it.  He is like the DaVinci of pumpkin carving and I'm usually across the table with a butter knife and a prayer we won't end up in the ER and he's already turned a gourd into The David.  But this year, thanks to the DIY porn site that is, Pinterest, I've gathered some good ideas for Halloween decorating that are more Beekman Boys than Witchy-Poo.

 I love this idea below.  I'm planning on having "Boo" and "Spooky"- and I think I'm going to use a fun dark blue instead of the white. 



There's also this one that I am obsessed with 

The Colors....and the glitter.  AHHHHMAHGHAD. 

And I am totally going to polka dot that shit out.  Also? BOWS! I mean, that is one precious pumpkin.

And now....onto the DEFINITIVE lists...

A Charlie Brown what have you, is not part of any of my Holiday traditions.  No thank you.  I have plenty of other cinematic classics that evoke the nostalgia of the seasons for me.  And none of them are cartoons- with the exception of the VHS we have from 1989 when my Mom taped A Very Brady Christmas and some of the cartoon, Frosty The Snowman is on there - but that was an oversight.  Call me a Grinch- my Husband does.  But I'm not into cartoons.  I think Nightmare Before Christmas is a shit storm of wrong, and no, I haven't seen it.  I don't have to. Jack Skeleton is not a name that belongs anywhere NEAR Santa Clause.  And yes, I know 90% of my friends are furious and wondering how they could have loved me all this time but that's just how I feel, ok?  Moving on. Here we are in Fall.   I die for fall.  I die for tights and a slouchy boot with skinny jeans and a cowl neck sweater. DIE. There's just also the joy of feeling cozy and cuddled and you can't get that in the summer .  You can't get "cozy" when it's 97degrees outside.  You can get menopause.

Anyway. Like any fat kid, certain foods remind me of, and make me feel certain things. As do certain songs and movies.  Here are my DEFINITIVE lists of Holiday Music and Movies.  I like using the word "Definitive" because it reminds me of a word Barbara Streisand would use to describe one of, or any of, her albums.  Or scarves.  I also die for scarves.

Jaclyn's Jingles
Last Christmas (WHAM!) ~ it is not the holiday season until this has played on the radio. If it weren't for the frosted tips and fur parka, you'd almost believe George was straight. Almost

Merry Christmas, Darling (The Carpenters) ~ I mean. Sobbing. SOBBING. And I always text Jaimie McMillin.  

The Christmas Waltz (The Carpenters) ~ I always imagine I'm ice skating in Dickens attire when I hear this.           Shut up.

Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas (Judy Garland) ever since The Family Stone I can't listen to this anymore....more on that later 

Simply Having A Wonderful Christmastime (Sir Paul, or as we call him....Dad) this is terrible. and I love it.

The Bells of St Paul (Linda Eder) I f'ing can't with her and this song, she's brilliant. And I can't help but lip sync and weep to it as I decorate my tree. 

What Are You Doing New Years Eve? (Rufus Wainwright) first introduced when GAP commercials were what you planned your week around- this version has stayed with me and it is perfection.

All I Want For Christmas Is You (Mariah) Once upon a time gas was affordable, scrunchies were fashionable, and Mariah Carey could still sing.

Rockin Around The Christmas Tree (some squeaky voiced person) Wave your arms in the air like Kevin McCallister and get funky!

Santa Baby (Eartha or Kylie) None of this Taylor Swift bullshit. I think TS is a nice girl and I hope she brings a little joy to the legacy of sorrow the Kennedy's have known but lets leave sultry, sexual yule innuendo to the women who do it best.

A Soulcake (Sting) As far as middle aged rock stars go when it comes to profoundly exuding sex appeal there is Bruce.  And then there is Sting. If you find yourself plotting lots of 50 Shades/Christmas Carol-esque  fantasies when you listen to this, well then....it's nice to know there are people out there as sick as I am.

Let It Snow (Harry Connick Jr) if you don't like Harry Connick Jr. at Christmas then you probably also don't like puppies, Snapple or smiling.

Blue Christmas (Elvis) When I was 4 I told my Dad I was going to marry Elvis.  My Dad told me Elvis died, "taking a crap".  You can't buy memories like that.

Santa Clause Is Coming to Town (Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band) I enjoy this but will also be divorced if I do not list it.

The Christmas Song (Nat King Cole) of course I put this on here.  I'm a liberal.  Not a communist.

Honorable Mention :
A Very She and Him Christmas
Jingle Cats (there are no words)


Definitive Holiday Movie List

We'll begin with Halloween-yes, while I detest the "holiday" I do have certain movies that I must watch on or before October 31st- and move on to Christmas

The Worst Witch - Before there was Harry Potter there was Mildred Hubel.

Rocky Horror Picture Show-  You either have to be in this show or watch it with friends and perform.  It is a part of my legacy that I hope my cat will keep alive long after I'm gone.

Hocus Pocus - No one ever needed another reason to love SJP but her brilliance in this cannot be denied. Who didn't pee a little when this came on The Disney Channel?!

Mixed Nuts - a hidden gem written by the Sisters Ephron.  It's so good. Just get it. Liev Schreiber plays a tranny, Merry Christmas.

Home Alone - I can't watch it without pizza.  And I'm working on that.  

Christmas Vacation- Then why is the carpet wet, Todd!?!

Little Women- When Christian Bale was a young man happy to have a job after NEWSIES, and Wynona Rider was the 90s, my Mom took us to see this in the theaters and wept openly as my sister and I took turns rolling our eyes.  This, to me, is classic Christmas.  And I insist we watch it every Christmas Eve. 

Love Actually- Love Actually is perfect. Liam Neeson. Liam Neeson would've been enough, but no, we've got Colin Firth AND Hugh Grant.  It's like Masterpiece Theater on steroids and it's a beautiful thing.  My Sister watches Love Actually every year when she wraps the incredible presents that she buys me.  I watch it too now as I struggle through panic attacks wrapping the presents I get for her that are never quite as good as the ones she got for me.


The Family Stone- Lets talk about movies that take a turn that slaps you in the face like your mother at the mall in the juniors department the day before Easter. Never mind SJP, never mind a sweet deaf brother and his big black husband, never mind the triumphant return of CRAIG T. NELSON. This movie is so painfully perfect but I can't watch it anymore because I cry too much.

The Holiday- I love a Nancy Myers movie. Correction.  I love the LIVES portrayed in Nancy Myers movies.  The homes, the clothes.  How people eat pasta, croissants, and cake and can still wear white jeans.  This one is one of my favorites. Even though I feel Cameron Diaz is horrific and should be destroyed.  Jude Law is so delicate you can almost forget he slept with the Nanny.

Babes in Toyland (Keanu Reeves)- If you don't know about this you should probably drink or take something, sit back and prepare to write me a 'Thank You'' note when you're done.  This masterpiece features a young, strung out, Drew Barrymoore, Keanu Reeves SINGING, and Pat Morita.  As in Mr Miyagi. When I was a kid this movie was the Happy Meal giveaway at McDonald's. I mean....I really think that's all I need to say.

Babes in Toyland (Annette Funnicello)- It is NOT Christmas at my house until we've watched this.  I think from ages 3 to well...now, I have wanted to be Annette Funnicello in this movie.  I'm obsessed. I also wanted my wedding to be exactly like the one at the end of the film, complete with myself and my new Husband flying away on a sleigh. But Mark couldn't make that dream come true. Jerk.

 

The Barefoot Lymphonista: Cancer, Cooking, and Celebrity Breakdowns

"It's probably Cancer....but you don't look sick so...just go home, enjoy Christmas"
Enjoy Christmas.  That's just some of the thoughtful bedside manner thrown our way at the beginning of our journey with lymphoma.  Just a week away from Baby Jesus' Birthday blitz and on top of trying to figure out what the hell to get my Mother - and avoiding purchasing everything I look at in Sephora for myself- I was trying to hold it together for me, for my husband, and biting my lips so hard to avoid spilling the beans to his family that I was starting to look like I'd had fillers. That's right....they didn't know. My Husband didn't want to shit on anyone else's Christmas. Just ours will suffice.  Did I mention I suck at secrets?  Did I mention that every single time I looked at or touched my Husband I'd burst into tears? Did I mention I was positive that this was our last Christmas and so everything had new meaning?   Every time was the last time and I just wanted to lay on the floor and sob. Did I mention it is now August and my Husband is cancer free? Yea. How about THAT!?
For my husband and I, hearing this past May that his scans were "clear" and his treatments were"over" was the goal.  The words we had dreamed of and the finish line we had steadily crawled towards through months of 96 hour chemo treatments (no- you didn't misread that) once every 3 weeks.  I thought when it was over it really would be over but the relief was short lived and the weight of cancer quickly replaced by the weight of an idea I have come to know and loath: "The New Normal".  Even now I can't help but say it like Kristin Wiig's, "relaxed", Annie in Bridesmaids with my face scrunched and my eyes rolling. "Ohhhh the newwww normalllll".  

When you or someone you love has, or has had cancer, life is never the same. Fact.  Everyday aches and pains that were once no big deal are now recurrences, tumors- apocalyptic crisis.  Your Oncology Nurse gets added to your list of "favorites" in your iPhone contacts and if you're me, you find yourself asking your husband, "how do you feel?" about 55 times a day and accusing him of lying every time the answer is, "I feel great".  The fear of recurrence can paralyze you almost as much as the initial diagnosis.  And before you know it, your life is being run by that new fucking normal.  The new normal being that it's, "normal" for you to be scared of everything so just embrace the terror, pull up a seat and ask it to stay for dinner. Forever. 

 I'd lament to other caregivers and survivors on message boards and Facebook chats how life would, "never be the same" and was reminded almost daily, "Jaclyn this is our new normal".  Fuck that noise.   No matter how hard I tried, the new normal and I just couldn't get chummy - I did my best to come to terms with the idea that my life was just going to be terrifying.  Every second of everyday.  So get used to it.  But I couldn't.  There are just so many other more fabulous guests I'd rather ask to stay for dinner.

So what do you do then?  How do you move on? 

Well poodle, that's what we're gonna figure out here together.

This is a blog about what happened after.  How life went on.  How life gets better. Gets shitty.  Gets better again.  But somehow it just keeps rolling along.  There will be crafting, beauty, casseroles, celebrity (and south jersey) gossip, a lil' cancer and chronic illness here and there, styling tips and lots and lots of LIVING! Because that is what life is all about.

Sometimes I will be as profound as those damn Yogi tea bag tags that leave me hysterically crying at my desk and sometimes I'll be sharing stories (and God willing, video) of my cat and I performing scenes from EVITA.  Either way I hope you'll be with me.

c'est si bon,
jkd