Almost Thirty and Still Dirty, Twenty-Seven and in Food Heaven

Sue,

I mean I am not even going to acknowledge the "swallow" comment. That being said, Madonna's level of hotness (which, granted, has been fluctuating due to the A-Rod scandal and ensuing ginormous donation to her charity) is indeed A to the Mazing and nothing you will not be able to attain. IN TWENTY YEARS.

As for the big 3-0, let's try to relax... and focus on my wedding. Shall we? I certainly can think of no better distraction! Am I a good friend or what?

So as you know, my pre-MBA reading and career prep is piling up around me. Thus I decided it is time to get back to my wedding planning. Yes - before you ask - there is still no rock in sight... but that will not deter me from planning my fabulous future nuptials!

In fact, I have news: we booked a caterer! Big Wedding Decision Number Two - well, technically, Number Three - can be struck from the list! We have the Location of Dreams, and now we have the Caterer of Dreams.

As you may recall, I had been fluctuating, much like Madonna's hotness, between two companies. Ever the only child that I am, I (we) basically chose the caterer who gave me (um, us) the most attention. And I'm not afraid to admit it! Plus, the chosen ones are also willing to serve a "local delicacy" (read: cheap-o Chinese noodles from a strip mall restaurant that taste surprisingly good if you add enough vinegar) requested by The Lawyer and didn't turn down their noses at our somewhat simplistic menu ideas. They just called our taste "Americana." Genius! Bring on the mac 'n cheese balls!

Please do not take advantage of the easy pun here. No one needs to hear more about how I will be serving balls at my wedding.

More plans to come!

Love,

DG

Madonna is Fifty!

Dear Jen,

I would just like to take a moment of respect to re-celebrate Madonna turning 50 over the weekend.

I mean, look at her in Perez's blog.

And then, again, with Justin Timberlake:



As you would say, dear Domestic Goddess, she's A to the Mazing.

Which brings me to my next point. In about 3 months, I'll be turning 30. I realize, at this point, that I really have nothing to worry about. Women in their 40s are seriously hotter than women in their 20s. If anything, I should be thrilled to be getting older, no? I'll be hitting my sexual peak in my 30s (lord help The Doctor for being 10 years older than me), and should probably be seeking Cougar-status and dating younger men in my early 40s (like I said, The Doctor's 10 years older than me so we'll have to strike a deal). Let's look for a moment at Kim Cattrall who's dating a 29 year old. She's hot, and also just turned 50.


www.hollywoodcollectibles.com

Regardless, I have my turning 30 Fitness and Nutrition routine (Hey, if you're able to get a personal trainer 2 years before your wedding, I'm allowed this, right?)

1. Thou shall not eat popcorn every other night (even though you pop it with grapeseed oil and butter.)
Punishment: 10 Squats, 10 Pushups and 10 Butt Squeezes

2. Thou shall not drink wine like it's a spiritual potion every day of the week (even though the French can drink copious glasses of red wine and not get fat, we don't hate them)
Punishment: No reading of gossip magazines for 1 month

3. Thou shall not consider your walk to and from the subway station enough exercise (even though, hello, get someone from the suburbs to walk .25 miles in heels and convince them it's not a workout)
Punishment: Yoga classes down the block -- and conveniently closer than the subway.

4. Thou shall not consider french fries a vegetable (even though half of my health clients try to pass this off as substantial nutrition for the week)
Punishment: Sweet potato fries!

5. Thou shall chew -- not inhale -- your food every day between now and November.
Punishment: I'll have to swallow, well, you know. And you know I hate to swallow.

In my mind, the DomestiGals, like Madonna and Kim Cattrall, are ageless.

We are, right?

Love,

29 and counting