You guys, ever noticed how hot Daniel Day Lewis is? I might be totally behind the times on this one, but I just realized how much I am into his steez last night while watching him display his totally awesome powers in There Will Be Blood.

It reminded me of this time Daniel and I had a torrid love affair and ran away to Cabo together. We met in a back alley in West Hollywood and ran off together like Thelma and Louise, our middle fingers pointing up at the sky and God.

Here’s a picture he sent me to remember that magical week.

I love you Daniel. Call me.

After mainlining a standing rib roast and chasing it with 2 gallons of spiked eggnog at Christmas, I realized that perhaps I had put on a pound or two. When I unhinged my jaw to swallow a tray of pancetta-leek-goat cheese tartletts, I knew it was time to drag my FUPA to a full-length mirror. This is what I saw:

After fainting and being revived with smelling salts, I made a promise to myself: that I would lose that weight, and get my groove back. Problem is, I have no patience. I’m not waiting months to drop some weight. I want results now. So I asked myself: what would Beyonce do?

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Last night I went down to go see Juno. First off I want to highly recommend this movie. I went in expecting canned quirkiness, the likes of the the boring, uncreative, and predictable Little Miss Sunshine, and came out of the movie feeling like I had seen something really special and precious instead. Ellen Page’s performance (remember her from Hard Candy?!) is really something wonderful, Michael Cera is adorable (even if he acts exactly the same here a he does in Arrested Development), and Jennifer Garner doesn’t make me want to shoot myself.

The only downside perhaps is the soundtrack. It’s 80% Moldy Peaches with some Belle and Sebastian and other late 90’s/early 00’s indie emo thrown in for good measure (just in case the Moldy Peaches didn’t have you feeling mellow, romantic, and depressed already). It’s basically all the emo I listened to in early college. I especially cringed at the end when Michael Cera and Ellen Page are lying down post-birth in the hospital bed and they start playing Cat Power’s cover of “Sea of Love.” I haven’t been that uncomfortable since I was watching an episode of Gossip Girl and Dan Humphries was trying to lose his virginity to Serena Van Der Woodsen and puts on some Elliott Smith on vinyl.

But really, the main reason I object is because I am secretly emo and hate seeing the music I listen to alone in my room used in pop culture media to manipulate my emotions. Let’s be honest. I mean, back in 2003, I had a boyfriend that used to make me put on Either/Or to get in the mood because “Between the Bars” was one of his favorite songs of all time (mine too for that matter). How can I not feel weird seeing that reflected on screen?

But the main reason I am writing is not to talk about the movie. I am not writing to get devo to my emo, but rather to talk about what I ate during the movie. I can only refer to it as jiggly-orange, even though the movie theater concessions stand labels it cheese. Read More!