Bad Edit? I'm Not Buying It.

10am is undoubtedly the best time to stand at the office water cooler.  It’s the moment when co-workers who adamantly deny enjoying reality television all happen to crave jugged water at the very same time.  Guaranteed, talk will be about last night’s eviction, elimination, cat fight or (if you're lucky) bitch slap.  Then, just at the moment everyone is most riled up, secretary Betty reminds the gang, “well, everything happens for a reason”.  The group shrugs and returns to their desks, tepid water in hand.

My greatest pet peeve is overuse of the expression "everything happens for a reason".  Couple it with an insincere or passive-aggressive smile, let alone a rehearsed reference to the G-o-d, and I’ll freak.

Years ago, I believed this sentence was used most frequently in funeral homes or outdated self-help books, but that's no longer the case.  The sets of reality television shows have taken a ridiculously firm lead.  You can change the venue all you’d like, but I’m still not buying it.

Did this just “happen for a reason”?

Or this??

(yes, she is crying)

Or even this???

The short answer is: Yes, of course it did.  But there's way more to it than this gross over-generalization.

Many starlets (and their supporters) are quick to blame a “bad edit” or producer tricks for their portrayal on television. In the many years that I have produced TV, I have never used eye drops to make someone cry (although, I did once see a cast member use an onion at a very opportune time).  I have never pinched someone to make their face appear flushed, or given them shellfish to make their skin break out with blotches. For whatever the reason- sadness, nerves, fear, embarrassment, exhaustion, butterflies, or even fame- they broke on their own.  Then, in an effort to excuse, ignore or justify the honest reaction, they sugar coated it and tied it up with a bow that reads “everything happens for a reason”.

(Insert Emotional Issues Here)

I challenge you never to use this sentiment ever again.  But if you do, please elaborate.  Own who you are, as no one else ever should.

If The Shoe Fits...

Literally any moment now, Jessica Simpson is putting her famous Mom Jeans to good use and becoming a mother.  So begins the great debate: Mom Jeans versus Mom Genes.  Who will prevail?  If this quote from Jessica's recent Vanity Fair interview is any indication, I am a tad concerned:

“I swear, I will croak if she asks me for a pair of Nikes instead of Christian Louboutins!”

Now, I get that the baby’s father is a professional athlete and Jessica is a professional whatchamacallit, but I am still disturbed.  Doesn't she want to raise a well-rounded daughter who can kick it in Nikes and rock it in her (by then vintage) Louboutins?  Plus, it is essential to review an entire collection before judging based on one sole pair (pun intended).

So, although the comment has always struck me as completely repulsive, I am going to put my money where my mouth is.  I’m just hoping that the critic is kind.  Luckily, she is not only a successful celebrity stylist, but also my sister.

As of this morning, I have 71 pairs of shoes- some have travelled with me since the Reagan Administration, others have barely touched pavement.  From that collection, I’m pulling a few for Jeni’s review.  And like any loving sister would do, I may debate, or smack her.

Betsey Johnson But Barely Worn

JENI: These shoes say loud and clear: "I am Fu*king Fabulous. Don't mess with me; Don't mess with my sister Jeni and don't mess with my swag. Period."  Every girl I know should have a pair.  I don't, but I plan on stealing the above this weekend, fo sho!

KL: (sigh of relief).

NEXT:

Born Boots I Was Born to Wear

JENI: "Hello my name is Karri. I owned and rode horses.  I wasn't that great at it, but I keep these riding boots in my wardrobe to remind me of how good my sister was...."

KL: You were a Canadian National Champion... not an Olympic Gold Medalist.  And I don't care what you say.  They look great with my jeggings.

NEXT:

(No Comment)

JENI: The fact that these shoes are worn in the spring makes me think mom never taught you seasonal colors.  But at least the world knows you love Santa...and you always will...even in the Spring. #teamsanta

KL: For the millionth time, they are leopard print!  Whatever.  Snooki would love them.

NEXT:

Claudia Ciuti

JENI: I've totally seen these before.  On Dad's secretary.  Over 20 years ago.

KL: You've always been jealous of me, Jeni.  Clearly the only thing in this photo over 20 years old is my pedicure.

NEXT:

Bear Paws: Rrrawr

JENI: Karri-Leigh FOR SURE lives in LA because no one in Jackson Hole wears these.  But every good LA girl has a fabulous pair of Bear Paws for Spring... to wear with her mini skirt.

KL: Don't hate.  They were a gift.... FROM YOU!

NEXT:

Basic Asics

JENI: Every legit working mother has a pair of kick it sneakers- for chasing the kids, working out (never) and running from the play date to grocery store.  Hence, the fact that I don't own a pair. But trust me.  If Jessica Simpson doesn't have a pair of these, she will soon.

KL: And I'm sure she will buy 3 pairs- one for the Nanny, one for the baby nurse & one for (the baby's) personal assistant.

NEXT:

Christian Louboutin (cue Hallelujah)

JENI: I would not be able to say you were my "for real" (not for fake) blood sister if you did not own at least one pair of (real) Louboutins... and the fact that you own a pair that are both a heel and a boot in one show me how truly resourceful you are!

KL: I may be older, but you've taught me well.

Bottom line: I've got 142 shoes and more flip flops than my kids can count, but there are only 3 pairs of ladies shoes in this house that truly matter...

Unless Jeni is here.  Then there are four.  (Can you tell who's are who's?) 

(Sometimes) I Am Not Perfect

Several weeks ago I shared some concerns and assumptions regarding the uber-important process of Valentine distribution in Pre-Schools.  For example:

Don’t be too quick to assume the kid who doesn’t hand out cards has an absentee parent, or is a Jehovah’s Witness.  More than likely, the “oversight” is an intentional way of putting a vibe out that the child is “too cool”

Though not quite ready to admit that I was wrong in stating the above, (as clearly I wasn’t), based on true events, I am ready to amend this hypothesis.

As Emilia and I were making homemade cards for her classmates, she kept repeating, “I want to make Sebastian’s card”.  I was suspicious, but not alarmed.  Eventually, I made the grave mistake of asking for a bit more info.  “He’s my boyfriend”, she responded.  In that very moment, as my life flashed before me, I vowed to buy a defibrillator for my home.

A few days later, as I picked her up from school, Emilia made the rounds of goodbyes to her classmates, calling each by name.  It was the first time I saw Sebastian, who struck me as the preschool equivalent of People Magazine's “Sexiest Man Alive”.  Again, I bit my tongue, deciding to wait and see how things played out before rushing her to a convent.

Well, the big day came and went, and Emilia did not receive even a Dora sticker from Sebastian.  I’m not sure whether to credit the sugar high or the short attention span of a toddler, but Emila didn’t seem to notice.  So, I stuck with my original assumption that the George-Clooney-in-training was “too cool for school”.  Thankfully, I was wrong.

The next day, Emilia arrived home from school with a special twinkle in her eye, and an envelope in her hand.  Sebastian had been sick on Valentines Day, but made up for the absence upon his return.

(front of the card)

(inside)

After I read the card, she grabbed it from my hand and gave it a sweet but simple kiss… then quickly stopped herself, shouting excitedly “I don’t want to get it wet!”

Thankfully, I was able to steal a second look to size things up (i.e. over-analyze the crap out of it).  Here's what I learned:

Sebastian didn’t sign the card himself, which was a bit of a disappointment, but let’s face it… Anyone who’s anyone in LA has an assistant.  More important, was how he wrote her name on his own, and spelled it correctly (quite a feat for any name in my household).  But of the greatest importance was the enormous smile he put on her face…

So, was I wrong?  Not really.  There are certainly times when my original thoughts still apply.  But I do need to make one significant addition.  Next Valentines Day, if your child doesn't receive a goodie from their crush, just remember... He could be holding out, saving his card for the very next moment when it will stand out a tad more- and make an even greater impression.

Hug A Litterbug?

There is a fine line between litter and a gift left behind for the greater good.

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m certainly not in support of tossing super-sized garbage out your car window just because simultaneously driving, texting, and sipping a half-caff while cleaning out your purse is way too much to handle… but there truly are times when one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.  I learned this first hand.

There is little I appreciate more than a walk down Melrose Avenue, stroller in tow.  Whether for the distraction, the exercise, the smog, the bargains or the people watching, it is a savior for me.  And having your savior available 365 days a year should never be underestimated.

Yes, there is “garbage” to put up with a long the way- congestion, stoplights, hoards of "self-medicating" smokers and the occasional sidewalk sleeper.  But for me, this adventure is part of why I love LA.

I recently woke up not on the wrong side of the bed, but on the wrong side of the world.  Hours later, still in a funk, I went for the usual stroll.  While a gust of wind in this city can bring you anything from a warm desert breeze to a mouth full of exhaust, on that day it brought me this:

I cannot imagine how much “litter” I have ignored in the streets of Los Angeles, but something opened my eyes to this- and they haven’t closed on it since.  Though tempted to bring the paper home, I wanted more to leave it behind for the next passerby.  The message, I brought with me.

Fast forward to yesterday.  I had lunch with my sister and discussed some pretty big life changes on the horizon.  Afterward, I felt the need to recommit to my passion, my life and myself.  Upon leaving the restaurant, I drove down a random alley to hop out and grab something from the back of my car.  When I pulled over, this was what I saw:

Wanting to share some positivity with the world, (or at least a few hundred people), I tweeted the photo, tagged “I Love LA”.  I drove away feeling completely re-energized and as I turned up the radio, with the most serendipitous of timing, I heard the very first notes of Randy Newman’s famous song.

Clearly the person who discarded the note on Melrose hoped for the message to spread.  Whether a regular dude paying it forward after receiving a similar gift, or a struggling artist with a hope the deed might land him a guest appearance on Ellen, or even just a selfless Good Samaritan, it doesn’t matter.  I am thankful, regardless.  As for the graffiti artist, property damaged aside, the same applies.

I grew up in Connecticut and spent several years in Boston before moving to California, but don’t remember ever encountering such poignant messages on garbage or graffiti.  Maybe I was too naive to notice;  Maybe I wasn’t looking.  Or maybe we see only what we want to see.

Inspiration can be found in the unlikeliest of places.  So keep your eyes open.  You may end up wanting to hug a litterbug.

RIP Clutter (sort of)

The unopened Ab Roller purchased after a late night stint with “Bridget Jones’s Diary” and a pint (ok, quart) of Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey...

A stack of unlabeled VHS tapes that you intended to have transferred to DVD over a decade ago, once humans survived the turn of the millennium...

Two dozen faded, over-sized concert t-shirts that you’ll never wear, but must retain as proof that you used to be cool...

Boxes of photographs with beer-holding friends you swore you’d never forget, though their names seem to escape you...

I could go on and on, but you don’t need a reminder of the many things you trip over each time you go into the basement, or pay to store at a place that was a total bargain because the first month cost only a buck.

In our closets, our brains or our personal lives, we’ve all got clutter.  What sets us aside is how we handle it.

Two love affairs began during my most recent pedicure: one with Katy Perry’s OPI nail polish line, and the other with Gretchen Rubin’s book “The Happiness Project”.

As the author brilliantly broke down categories of clutter, I broke down over the realization that I had a perfect example of each.  Am I getting rid of them? Hell no.  But I have decided to share them with you.

Here are the categories, with a bit of how Rubin describes them, then illustrated with a photo from my personal collection.

Nostalgic Clutter: “made up from relics I clung to from my earlier life”

I was in 6th grade when my Grandmother gave me this.  Legit.

Conservation Clutter: “made up of things that I’ve kept because they are useful- even though they’re useless to me”

Box 1 of a plethora

Bargain Clutter: “which results from buying unnecessary things just because they are on sale”

Gonna give credit where credit is due... I don't fall for this one.

Freebie Clutter: “gifts, hand-me-downs and giveaways”

Once I research Botox, I have a feeling these will be in greater demand 

Crutch Clutter: “things I used but I knew I shouldn’t”

I've worn this... in public.

He really did.

Aspirational Clutter: “things I owned but only aspired to use”

But if you come over, I'll totally make you a carrot juice.

Outgrown Clutter: “the flipside of aspirational clutter”

(Self-Explanatory)

Buyer’s Remorse Clutter: “when rather than admit I’d made a bad purchase, I hung on to things until I somehow felt they’d been ‘used up’”

Someday, when I relax, I will do it in this papazan rocking chair... 

The fact that I could have thrown each of these items away in less time than it took me to take and download their photos speaks volumes as to where there fate lies…  for now.  But sometimes the realization of the things we must do is enough to inspire meaningful, beautiful change in the future.

911, What Is Your Emergency? ( And PS. I May Tell The World)

I’ll never forget the night I dialed 911.  A fire raged in my neighbor’s garage and I stood at our fence holding a garden hose with the force of a sloppy drool.  After (seemingly) hours of waiting for firemen, the operator said I’d been on the line a mere 4 minutes.  Seconds later, I heard sirens.  Moments later, the fire was contained.  Though a few homes had damage, luckily mine did not.  More importantly, no one was injured, and I had survived one of the most terrifying moments of my life thus far.

I am unsure of what brought about my fascination with 911 calls.  My mother was an emergency room nurse and my father was a paramedic before owning his own ambulance company, so I have always assumed it’s in my blood.  But I can't help but wonder, is it in yours too?

My Dad giving CPR, long before I was born

In July of 2011, I read the tragic news of Olympic Medalist Jeret “Speedy” Peterson’s suicide in the remote woods of Utah.  17 months after the skier took home a silver medal, he took his own life.  Moments prior, Peterson made a 911 call notifying officials of where they could find his body.  TMZ posted the recorded call on their website, and I made the much regretted decision to listen.

The comment section on TMZ is often even more fascinating than the news itself, and this was no exception.  I scrolled and read as numerous strangers sent condolences to his family and speculated how a life so accomplished could take such a turn.  What I failed to see though, until now, was outrage over the fact that 911 calls may be released to the public.

More recently, a friend of Demi Moore phoned 911 when the actress began convulsing after smoking an “unidentified substance”.  Once the call was released, several celebrities (including George Clooney & Kim Kardashian) shared their shock over the invasion of privacy and exploitation of this life-threatening event for media promotion.  Sure, it took a near Mrs. Kutcher (for now) overdose to bring it up, but the issue was finally receiving some much-needed attention.

When I listened to the agony in Jeret Peterson's last words, I heard heartbreak.  When I listened to Demi’s call, I heard the familiar “cha-ching” of a cash register.  What I have yet to hear though, apart from television ratings and magazine sales, is the benefit of broadcasting either.

Some may argue that to share these stories helps highlight and educate about the risks associated with dangerous behaviors, and I agree.  In a way, this is reality television in it's truest form.  Still, I wonder how 911 audio recordings contribute to the lesson.

Many times in my professional career I have wondered where to draw the line between entertainment and endangerment.  This issue certainly makes us question if and when a private life may rightfully become public.  But more importantly, it should make us question our OWN privacy, and what we can do to protect it. 

Really think about it...  I guarantee you don’t want the next 911 call made public, heaven forbid, to be yours.

Bikini Waxes, Bitches & Broken Hearts

For the first time in over a decade, I have pre-Valentines Day jitters.

The typical woman panics:  Will I get long stem roses at the office?  Will he finally change his Facebook relationship status?  And if so, should I take a bigger risk with my bikini wax?

But not me.  My greatest concern is not if, but when, my toddler will feel her first tinge of a broken heart.

There’s a reason why young boys are playing little league and using a magnifying glass to spot their first chest hair while young girls are watching Heathers and Jawbreaker (ok, Mean Girls and Gossip Girl).  As boys train to be men, girls train to be bitches; and preschool is their boot camp.

Thus, there is much to be taken from the Valentines your child receives- or doesn’t. 

* Don’t be too quick to assume the kid who doesn’t hand out cards has an absentee parent, or is a Jehovah’s Witness.  More than likely, the “oversight” is an intentional way of putting a vibe out that child is “too cool”.

* I stayed away from boys that liked Dungeons & Dragons, and I will be sure my daughters steer clear of any boy that likes The Wiggles.

* These days it takes weeks of study to memorize a preschool class roster.  Perfect spelling of an unusual first name is good, but include the middle name correctly and you’ve basically offered a promise ring.

* Those at the top of their social game will choose a box of cards featuring an ensemble cast, and give them out hierarchically.  Simply put, you want your daughter to get the Jennifer Aniston, not the Lisa Kudrow.

* Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty are so 2000 & late.  Popular girls give (and receive) Ni Hao Kai Lan.  She speaks Mandarin Chinese.

* Chubby girls will try to beef up the skinny girls with fattening candy, and the hope that they can eat them together.  Though I’d love to make assumptions about the boys who give pretty girls fat free sweets like Twizzlers & Gummy Bears, I’ll blame his (probably bitch) mom instead.

* I’m not saying there is sexual innuendo in all classrooms, but I’d keep an eye out for the girl who gets lots of references to Jasmine.

* Sweetheart candies have come a long way since “Be Mine”, but spot one that reads “Let’s Sniff The Glue Together”, and you’ve got problems.

I’ve often wondered when life gets easier, and heard that it doesn’t.  I wish I could tell my girls that their hearts will remain intact forever, but it would be a lie.  Whether they shed tears over the loss of a V-tech toy or of their V-card, it’s all the same.

The key is in teaching them to love themselves more than anything else, and stay whole despite a broken heart... remembering, all the while, that a broken heart leaves more room to let love in.