We had tickets to see a live performance of 101 Dalmatians yesterday. Ellie loved it. I’m pretty sure the play was cute but I was too busy watching my girl enjoy herself.

Cruella was played by a very tall, slim man in drag. She was fantastic. At the end of the performance, all the characters remained on stage to answer questions from the children. Cruella stayed in character.

Cute Kid: Do you like performing more in the morning or at night.

Cruella: Let’s just say that Cruella is a morning person. She’s someone else entirely at night.

Although Worcestershire sauce and soy sauce bottles look identical, their affects in pad thai are very different.

Bravo television was created for the sole purpose of making me feel normal and perfectly within my rights to stand on my pulpit of judgment. It is, by far, the most delicious guilty pleasure. And, if you happen to watch it WHILE eating m&ms, be prepared. You might need a cigarette when it’s all over.

Patti, from ‘Millionaire Matchmaker’ is my favorite. She says things I not only wish I could get away with, but actually has the ability to think of it on the spot. Not three days later. ‘Tabatha’s Take Over Salon’. Brilliant. The mere fact that she cares more about the businesses of salon owners, than the morons who own them, to me means canonization for her in the hair afterlife.

‘The Housewives of the…’. My commitment was the original O.C. and I poo pooed the possibility of ever cheating on them. To date, I think I’m almost caught up with New York and New Jersey. I used to get made fun of in grade school for my rather disproportionate lips (which, actually matched my disproportionate feet and knees). I relish the fact that it’s now trendy and women on this show shoot up so much collagen that they sound like Mush Mouth from Fat Albert. I’m hoping some day, in the not too distant future, double-chins will be the rage so I can have something new to relish.

I have to mention a couple of TLC shows. Let’s start with ’73 kids and Counting’. I watched one episode and am not even able to sit through a trailer without wanting to poke a sharp pencil in my eye. Religious opinions aside, Mama and Jimmy Bob talk into the camera like they’re having a vision. Like they have been personally smacked on the foreheads and temporarily see halos and angels from the impact. Maybe it’s just the years of trying to figure out which kid needed a clean diaper. Regardless, they look Stepford.

‘Jon and Kate Plus 8′ makes me want to rip out my hair extension and porcelain veneers. There isn’t enough space on the server to continue on a dead horse that’s being beaten.

In summary, please don’t ask me about the state of our nation, Somali pirates, health care, or nuclear weapons. I am too consumed with Bret Michaels’s recuperation, Larry King’s infidelity, and Hugh Hefner’s generous donation. Amen.