There are maybe three to five men in the entire world who look good and maybe even better clean-shaven. Hayden Christensen for example, should probably never grow a beard. He’s too damn pretty. Chace Crawford looks boyishly adorable when he’s only slightly scruffy. The prettier the boy the weirder a beard looks. I’ve examined my beard-lust scientifically and I hypothesize this: I’m super girly, therefore I have high levels of estrogen (oh do I!) – therefore, I seek a male counterpart with equally high levels of testosterone. Beard = manly and manly = testosterone. The juxtaposition of smooth soft girl skin and coarse man hair works out so well. It’s really the most flawless equation ever.

I love the pride that men take in their beards when they grow them “just for themselves.” What do women have that even rivals that? Take bubble baths? (Yes.) Now I’ve convinced a boyfriend or two to ditch the razor for a week, maybe two. The response they get in return makes it well worth their while, believe me. I’m always really perturbed when guys seem to honestly think that women want them to be smooth and hairless head to toe. No, lads, that’s womankind that’s been dealt the miserable hand of full-body hair removal. You go on, be hairy. The hairier the better. I’ll make myself a pillow on your chest hair and stroke your beard until I’m lulled softly to sleep. Thank you.

I catch myself speaking in a Long Island Italian accent at work, even though I’m from New England and don’t have a trace of Italian in my blood. A customer today asked me where I’m from and I had to just come clean. It’s really hard to control. Snooki’s “wah!” is infectious, as is “t-shirt time” and of course…GTL. It’s been many moons since my ivory skin has seen a tanning bed, but every now and then the bronzed “goddesses” of JH make me go a little thick with the bronzer and crave acrylic nails (also a phase I’m proud to have outgrown).

I have never, ever been the type to go for hard-bodies guido dudes. The fellas on the show are only after one thing of course, but if you happen to not be a “grenade,” you could get some pretty special treatment. The Situation is obviously a sleazeball, but I have a pretty deep soft spot for Vinny and an on going crush on Pauly D and his hair. Why? Only God really knows the answer to that question. Normally I prefer pale skinny rocker boys, softspoken poets or nerdy savants. Maybe Jersey Shore appeals to all our base desires to eat loads of pasta, strap some leopard print over my lady parts, do body shots till 5 in the morning and find an anonymous hard body to “smush.”

With chapters like “I Know You’re in There, Whore,” “A Questionable Poo: The End of Romance,” and “The Coital Laugh,” My Boyfriend Wrote a Book About Me promises some raunchy laughs that don’t disappoint. The book has a decidedly melancholy undertone, but Winston sews threads of hope throughout her tales like Lurex through fabric. I can honestly say I laughed and cried, and that’s a true gem of a book in my eyes. One that can span emotional gaps and be affecting in more ways than one. There’s hope for us single cat ladies, after all. Once we learn about loosening our grip in more ways than one (read the book to understand the joke), we can let go and really enjoy. So go ahead – crack it open, and take a bath or two with Ms. Winston. You’ll be glad you did.

Men are like library books.
I’ll find one that glows from beyond a pretty cover,
full of promises on the inside flap.
Hold it in my hands to feel its weight,
then put it in my sack.
I take my time
Breathe in that old book smell
that makes you wonder where it’s been before.
I’ll marvel at its contents
as gorgeous words unfurl -
vivid prose upon my tongue
just like a gleaming pearl.
I don’t treat it well,
as if it were my own.
A spill, a tear, a careless fold
these are the liabilities – I’m told.
I like the crinkle that the cover makes,
lands beyond, the gliding hours of my time
I’ll beg it to romance me
to thrill me with its twists,
to turn about my world
for just a bit of bliss.
I’m almost sad it’s over,
you know it’s got to end
And as I slip it back upon its shelf,
my heart will slowly mend.
I only came to borrow, dear…
I didn’t come to buy.

Lauren Conrad sporting a gorgeous robin’s egg blue that reminds me of Tiffany’s blue.

Sky, Hard Candy’s legendary first color, was created in 1996 by Dinah Mohajer to match a pair of sky blue pumps. I love Hard Candy so much. The best part is that the brand, formerly reserved for high end stores, is now available at your local Wal Mart for about five bucks a pop – and they still come with the signature chunky rings!

Whitney port rocking turquoise nails.

This is one of my new favorites, and it’s kind of famous – Essie’s Mint Candy Apple. Try it! I love how different it is. I used to be so stuck on having pinks and “normal” colors on my nails and now I feel like I’m twelve again, trying out blues and greens. (Next on my list is sparkle!)

Khloe Kardashian sporting a pale, opaque pink.

I had to snag this color when I saw it. It’s Revlon nail enamel in Lilac Pastelle, a lovely, pink-based lilac shade. It’s really pale and subtle, almost a neutral but definitely unmistakable. Image via Nail-a-Holic.

Two Seasons by Galway Kinnell

I

The stars were wild that summer evening
As on the low lake shore stood you and I
And every time I caught your flashing eye
Or heard your voice discourse on anything
It seemed a star went burning down the sky.

I looked into your heart that dying summer
And found your silent woman’s heart grown wild
Whereupon you turned to me and smiled
Saying you felt afraid but that you were
Weary of being mute and undefiled

II

I spoke to you that last winter morning
Watching the wind smoke snow across the ice
Told of how the beauty of your spirit, flesh,
And smile had made day break at night and spring
Burst beauty in the wasting winter’s place.

You did not answer when I spoke, but stood
As if that wistful part of you, your sorrow,
Were blown about in fitful winds below;
Your eyes replied your worn heart wished it could
Again be white and silent as the snow.

I put a seed in my garden
It wouldn’t grow
I gave a man all my heart
And I watched him go
Nothing seems to be for me
Everything is down, you see
I’m so low

I sat alone on a hillside
What could it be?
And as I turned toward the dark sky
It came to me
Down was just my state of mind
All the ups are mine to find
For the sun shines for those who look
Beyond the clouds

And as always on Meditation Monday, I will close with words from a beautiful teacher. I believe that lessons are presented to us when we are ready and willing to learn. Today I found wisdom in one of Indian mystic/guru/philosopher Osho’s writings:

“Mind is discontentment, it is never contented. It goes on saying ‘Get this, get that, and I will be contented,’ but by the time you get it, it is again asking for something else. And the game continues for the whole of one’s life from the cradle to the grave. It goes on asking for more.

Each moment is so full of joy, so exquisitely joyful, that even if death comes right now you will not ask for another moment because this moment was enough. There is no question of asking for another world; even for another moment you will not say to death ‘Wait, because I have to finish a few things, because there are a few things which I was doing and they are incomplete. You will say ‘I am ready.’

Contentment means ‘This moment is enough. Right now all that I need is here; all that I have ever needed and will ever need is here.’ And to be in such a state is to know god, is to be god. Then each moment is a dance and a celebration. Then each moment has such infinite depth and so much treasure, that who cares whether tomorrow comes or not? Who bothers?

So much is available — the sun and the birds singing and the flowers and the fragrance — so I say thank you. I had never asked, I never thought that there would be another day but there is. It is just a gift from god, so I say thank you. More than that I don’t know,’ he said, ‘More prayer is not needed.’

Prayer is a thankfulness; in fact a contented being is continuously prayerful. Whether he says anything or not there is always a deep undercurrent of thankfulness. That has to become your life.”

This book to movie adaptation is cinematic and bittersweet. Sisters Constance (Natasha Richardson) and Nina (Toni Collette) gather at their mother’s (Ann, played by Vanessa Redgrave) deathbed. The story is richly told in flashbacks, where Ann is played by Claire Danes. The 1950s flashbacks are based on Ann’s friend Lila’s wedding and the weekend in Newport when it all took place. There’s a handsome and wonderful man named Harris (Patrick Wilson), who Ann loved but never wound up with, and hopeless drunk Buddy (Lila’s sister, played by Hugh Dancy) Life carried on nonetheless, as it always does. The scenery is spectacular, the characters authentic and the story is poignant.

While Evening could be easily labeled as a soppy “ladydrama,” I happened to enjoy the quiet mood it took me through. The friendship between Lila and Ann reminds me of my own best friend, the keeper of each other’s secrets…thinking of us at the end. Also inspiring was the subtle transformation of Anne’s daughter Nina, the more troubled of the two. The screenplay was richly adapted (note to self: read the novel) as well as beautifully directed. This woman’s life, like so many others, was anything but ordinary. The rich detail and secrets kept by a dying woman at the end of all things are fascinating, deep and kept only by her.

“I love Charlotte,” Vogue‘s Francesca Burns said. “I have worked with her, and she’s really special: it’s not just the hair. Charlotte has a rare delicate elegance to her beauty which means she can pull off anything.” (source: Vogue UK)

Betcha didn’t know…Charlotte’s favorite food is lemons (?) and she listens to dubstep “constantly.” (source: Elle)

This video’s so endearing! She likes Maxfield Parrish which I think is fantastic…and apparently she also wants to be in the circus.

I want to dye my hair pink.