Liz vs. Lisa: American Idol or The Voice?

It's no secret that we're reality TV junkies.  From Top Chef to Bad Girls Club, we have to get our fix.  And usually, we're in agreement on what to watch.  Case in point: We have both always loved American Idol. From Kelly Clarkson to Clay Aiken, we've religiously watched and even bought some of the contestant's lackluster debut albums. (We're talking to you David Archuleta!)  But recently, one of us has strayed.  Skipping AI and even (gasp!) DELETING it without watching.  This person even had the balls to ask the other who got kicked off last week (as if!).  And it wouldn't be so bad if she was just too busy to watch-but it's not that.  She's cheating on AI with The Voice! So after a heated girlfight discussion about which one is best that got us nowhere, we decided to battle it out here.  And after you hear our arguments, we want you to weigh in! Buh-bye AI, Hellloooo The Voice by Liz

Don't get me wrong-I'm not totally hatin' on AI.  But something happened to me last season.  And no, it wasn't Ryan Seacrest's hair or the judge's inability to actually critique anyone.  Looking back, it was probably a combination of Scotty McCreery overload(Totally never got the appeal of him) and the absence of Simon Cowell. Either way, I had lost that loving feeling.

The Voice was at the right place at the right time.  I love the fact they choose their talent based on well, talent, rather than relying on what they look like-and it was always interesting to see the judges kick themselves when they didn't turn their chairs around only to discover some hot piece of ass on the other side at the end of the song.  And because of that, I think the crop of contestants on The Voice are more talented.  Not to mention more interesting and diverse.(Do you really think AI would have put that bald chick through last year?  Come on.)

And The Voice seems determined in building people up rather than bringing them down.  Conversely, AI's Hollywood week had more medical emergencies than a underage rave this season, always with the cameras right there to catch the drama and bring it to you in slow motion.  I'm sorry, but watching a sixteen-year old fall off the stage in a diabetic coma is not my idea of entertainment.

Okay. *climbs off high horse* Now I'm going to list the REAL reasons why The Voice freakin rules:

1. Adam Levine is freakin' HOT.  Even though I know he's probably the biggest douchebag ever, I'd let coach me anytime, anywhere, about anything.  Just sayin'. And did any of y'all see that spread of him in Entertainment Weekly? Wow. Let's just say he gave all new meaning to the words, "six pack" and made me rethink how I feel about men with tattoos.

2.  Cee Lo Green is nuts.  His Dr. Evil impression with the cat is odd to say the least.  And his team kinda sucks-What's up with that weird chick that wears the headband and the Wayne's World impersonators? But hey, every show needs their Paula Abdul.

3. Christina Aguilera's boobs.  I tune in just to see what they will be doing each week.  Seriously. I was on the edge of my seat waiting for a nipple to pop out last week!

4. Carson Daly is a much cooler version of Ryan Seacrest.  Let's face it, overall, the eye candy factor is much better over here. (Sorry Lisa, Steven Tyler and his man scarves do NOT do it for me!)

5. Pip.  I love the shit out of this guy and his bow ties. And his name is PIP!  It doesn't get any better than that.  Take that Phillip Phillips and your gravelly, super sexy voice.  Do you think he could rock a bow tie and suspenders? Or sing show tunes? I think NOT!

Bottom line: The Voice rules, AI drools!

I Still Love American Idol by Lisa

Don't worry, American Idol, I've got your back. Well me and twenty-eight MILLION other people that is. Now when Simon left, I was sure the show was going straight to the toilet. I mean, without  his contestant smack downs and strange Brit appeal, what would happen? Turns out, the show got even better! (Sorry, Simon! Hopefully that whole Howard Stern thing will work out).

Shows like the Voice are trying hard to overtake it and arguably The Voice does bring certain things to the table that AI doesn't....

Idol certainly doesn't have a resident LAP CAT like Cee Lo Green's (Meow!). And it also doesn't boast a washed up second string host like Carson Daley (*cough* Total Request Live was like 1,000 years ago!).

But what it does have is an ELEVEN year history of success and it's plucked small town farm girls from obscurity and catapulted them into incredible fame (Carrie Underwood, anyone?) Not to mention its other success stories including Chris Daughtry and Kelly Clarkson. I respect Idol because it stays true to what it is. A show that's looking for talent while putting on a good show. And although there have been times when the cameras didn't need to be rolling (people puking during Hollywood week) it is, afterall, a reality show people!  And here's why, when push comes to shove, I choose my beloved Idol over The Voice.

1. Phillip Phillips. Ahhh. There's nothing like a Josh Lucas knock-off to get this cougar's heart pumping. After I googled him and discovered he was 21, I let the inner roar out completely. Not to mention he's freakin' talented (um, tell me you guys downloaded his rendition of Billy Joel's Movin' Out after last night's performance?!?!) and his family loves the sh*t out of him. (His dad cries!)

2. Steven Tyler. Okay, this one you guys may not understand. And maybe he looked like he raided Captain Jack Sparrow's closet last night. BUT... there's something about the feathers in his hair, his eyeliner and even his creepy comments that give me a sense of joy--not to mention cause me to have an unexplainable crush on him. Sure, maybe he always says the same thing-- "That was beautiful"--but he has a microphone covered with flowers. Not to mention, he's Steven effing Tyler, bitches!

3. Jennifer Lopez. Does she ever look less than perfect? (Last night's leather skirt was to die for!) And twins? Really? WTF? She's so freakin' gorgeous that I don't even care what she's saying to the contestants. Plus, she actually has very sound advice for the contestants. Go Jenny from the Block! She's earning every penny of her 15 million dollar a year salary if you ask me.

4. The mentors. By mentors, I mean Diddy. As in Puffy. Sean Puffy Combs. P. Diddy. Diddy. Did y'all see him last night? These mentors make the show for me. Okay, maybe Diddy makes the show for me. But still...

5. Did I mention Phillip Phillips?

What do YOU think?  AI or The Voice?  Tell us!

xoxo, Liz & Lisa

I'm just not that into you (anymore):Project Runway

Liz here. I think y'all know I have a hard time with the word NO. But it's especially true when it comes to my DVR-I just can't say no to all those shiny and new Fall shows.  But there's always a few that get dumped before I even watch one episode, (sorry 2 Broke Girls!) and a few that I can't WAIT to sink my teeth into each week (Helloooo Once Upon A Time).

But just like any relationship, sometimes things go sour with even the best of shows.

You know how it is-things start off and you're just so excited to see them.  You think about them when they're not around, you talk about them incessantly to anyone who will listen.  You may even get irrationally angry when others block you from seeing them. (Um, yeah, sorry about that, Mike!) Then, things may start to cool off a little.  They seem to get comfortable and stop caring about how they look.  Or maybe they start trying a bunch of new things that, well, are LAME.  All of a sudden it's been two, maybe three weeks since you've seen them. And before you can say Queer Eye For the Straight Guy, your former favorite show has become (gasp!) irrelevant!

And yes, Project Runway, I'm talkin' to you.  Like Desperate Housewives, Grey's Anatomy, Chuck and Lost before you, I'm thinking of dumping your ass.

I LOVED Project Runway.  Like put the kids to bed, order sushi and force my husband to watch, LOVED it.  Christian Siriano made my heart sing and Mondo's F'ed up patterns intrigued me. I didn't even mind that Heidi Klum seemed to be pregnant every fucking season.  Hell, I even stuck with them when they moved over to Lifetime without High Def  TV and watched that terrible Models of the Runway spinoff!  Because even though I could barely see what the hell they had made without HD, I didn't care.  I was there for the DRAMA. So when they announced Project Runway All-Stars, I was jumping up and down with joy.

All my fave designers!  In ONE show!  How could they go wrong? How could they mess up PERFECTION?

Well, they did. Let me count the ways.....

But wait, before we get into all that, I've got a copy of Gunn's Golden Rules by Tim Gunn.  Just leave a comment and I'll choose a lucky winner on Sunday January 29th after 6pm PST.  Good luck!

WHY I'M JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU(ANYMORE):PROJECT RUNWAY

1. The poor man's Heidi Klum Where the F is Heidi Klum and who is this imposter they have hosting the show?  I sincerely hope that she's not as uncomfortable being on TV as I am watching her on it. Make the cringing stop. Please. And she doesn't even say that German bullshit at the very end when the designer gets kicked to the curb.  WTF! 

And while we're on the subject of Miss Klum, so freakin' bummed to hear about her and Seal.  I really was buying in to their whole perfect relationship thing. *cue mental image of Seal serenading Heidi with Kiss From a Rose each night*

2. The New Judges Where is my boyfriend Micheal Kors and his barbs?  Nina Garcia's knowing smirk? And Isaac Mizrahi as a replacement?  Really? That's the best you could come up with? And don't even get me started on the fact that MISS PIGGY was a guest judge last week. Because she's a fashion EXPERT. Come on!

3. That British chick Okay, what the hell happened to Tim Gunn and who is this bitchy Brit with the bad haircut?  Her utter disdain while in the workroom makes me uncomfortable. And not in a good Real Housewives of Atlanta sort of way.

4. The Designers Between April's gray hair and Austin Scarlett's scarf and bolo fixation, I'm not feelin' my fave designers.  Where is Kenley's cattiness? Why isn't anyone talking shit on Michael? When did Rami learn to do something other than draping? Where is the DRAMA?  Do they really think we actually tune in for the designs?  Jesus, I haven't been able to see them clearly anyway the last few years!

5. High Definition TV  Sooooo...the lesson here is to be careful what you wish for.  I lamented the last three seasons about the lack of HDTV on Lifetime.  But little did I know how disconcerting it would be to actually see my favorite designers so UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL.  Did Mila always look so sweaty in the workroom? Was Kenley's lipstick always that red?  Did Micheal's eyebrows look like that before? It's creepin' me out.

So I'm sorry Project Runway, it's been real.  But I just moved you below Spongebob on my DVR playlist.  And we all know what that means-You're out. Auf Wiedersehen!  Oh, and Top Chef?  I'm officially putting you on notice.

What about you?  Any shows you are dumping this season?  Tell me!

xoxo, Liz

Mommy Monday: Is Spit Up The New Black?

I'm baaaack. Did you miss me? ;)

It feels good to step out of the "baby cave" for a minute. To be doing something other than debating the merits of sensitive baby wipes vs. regular baby wipes or trying to figure out how to keep a burp cloth clean for longer than five seconds.

Since giving birth to my daughter thirty days ago, I've come to a very important realization. It doesn't matter how many books you read or bad eighties videos you watch in your birthing class, until you actually become a mother, there is no way you can fully comprehend two words.

Sleep. Deprivation.

Sure, everyone tried to warn me while I was still pregnant. Get your sleep now. While you still can. And of course I didn't listen because I was unnaturally obsessed with things like reorganizing the kitchen and cleaning out heating vents.

And now- a month later- although I'm basically running on fumes from the aforementioned lack of shut eye and all of the following things were written in a varying state of delirium (as this post is now), I've recorded some of my other observations from my first month of motherhood:

Day 1- Water breaks at 10:00 p.m. while watching Top Chef. Think I peed my pants. Ask hubs to help me figure it out (I'll let you fill in the blanks on how we did this). Decide this is okay because if I truly am in labor, he's going to potentially see a lot worse once we are at the hospital.

Day 2- If I could do it all over again, I'd skip the Five Guys Burgers and Fries cheeseburger with jalapenos. No fun to have the burger sitting in my stomach while in labor. Tell this story to everyone and anyone who will listen after I've been given my epidural.

Day 3- Nurses keep coming in and marveling at the fact that I'm not 300 lbs with all the Oxycotin I've been taking for my post c-section pain. Can you say Lisa Limbaugh?

Day 4- Totally, deeply and madly in love with my little girl. She is the best thing I have ever done in my life. Hoping when she's old enough to weigh in on that, she'll agree.

Day 5- We're home. Talking to Matt. He says something about Maria. Who's Maria?, I ask. The nurse who helped us every day at the hospital! he exclaims. Oops. Realizing that I don't remember much of my hospital stay. See Day #3- Oxycotin.

Day 6- Up all night. Haven't done this since pulling an all-nighter in college. But at least that involved lots of coffee and sugar and, er, I was only twenty!

Day 7- Check on the baby for the millionth time to make sure she's breathing. Will I ever stop doing this?

Day 8- Decide I have the most beautiful baby in the world. Me and every other mother.

Day 9- Major accomplishment. Can Facebook and breastfeed at the same time. I feel 1/16 human again.

Day 10- Need to remind myself to stop bragging about how good Baby D is. Every time I do this, she decides to throw the schedule we've been keeping out the window as if to say, Don't forget who runs this show, mommy!

Day 11- Discovered I can hide in the shower- if only for a few fleeting moments. Who knew a three minute hot shower could change my life?

Day 12- Thinking about the woman from Africa who's in the documentary, Babies. She gives birth in a hut without medication and minutes later is breast feeding her baby in one arm and hauling water in the other. Remind myself not to get frustrated that my hospital grade breast pump doesn't work perfectly and/or I can't hear my Real Housewives of Beverly Hills episode over the pumping sound.

Day 13- Decide the hubs and I should have our own middle of the night reality show. We make absolutely no sense when we talk to each other because we are never fully awake. I think we're hilarious but not sure anyone else would laugh. Might be worth taping ourselves to find out.

Day 14- Wake up in the middle of the night and frantically search the bed for my baby. This keeps happening. Baby is always safe and sound in crib. Has never slept in our bed. Not sure where this is coming from.

Day 15- Pediatrician called me Mom. I looked over my shoulder for the mom he was talking to. Guess it's going to take a while for this new title to sink in.

Day 16- Is spit up the new black? I'm beginning to think so as it's my main accessory with every outfit.

Day 17- Lying in a pillow covered in spit up. Too tired to care.

Day 18- Silently cried listening to the baby cry after I put her down for a nap. With tears streaming down my face, I sneaked into her room for the umpteenth time and peered into her crib without letting her see me. Feel like weird baby stalker.

Day 19- My poor mother is on the receiving end of a major sleep deprivation meltdown. After the hubs intervened and forced me to nap, I wake with no memory of the content of the meltdown. Scary.

Day 20- Liz arrives. She becomes my breastfeeding coach- determined to help me stock up on milk supply so I can sleep and someone else can feed the baby. Friendship taken to a whole new level when I attach pumps and pump with abandon right next to her on the living room sofa. Matters more to me to have milk for the hubs to feed baby than Liz seeing my areolas. But I do believe Liz was traumatized. Very traumatized.

Day 21- I was "that wife" today. Called the hubs at work to talk about poop. And formula. And nipples. Had to hang up mid-talk as I rose about my body and realized what I was doing.

Day 22- The baby smiled at me. I don't care what anyone says, she didn't smile because she had gas. She was really smiling!

Day 23- The baby burped a nice, deep, truck driver belch. Am more excited about this than when I was nominated for an Emmy.

Day 25- Baby asleep. Have the house to myself. Drinking coffee (shh...). Watching You're Cut Off marathon (another gift Liz gave me while here- turning me on to such a bad TV show). Feel like I've won the lottery.

Day 26- Another major accomplishment. Played Angry Birds- with my left hand- while feeding the baby!

Day 30- Baby had to get a shot. Decide that if I were to get shot with a double barrel shot gun in the face, it would hurt me less. Welcome to motherhood.

xoxo,

Lisa, a.k.a. "Mom"?!?!

Mommy Monday: Deceptively Delicious? by Liz

I've always believed that, like wild animals, small children can smell fear from a mile away. And I'm not talking about the fear of flying or clowns or being terrified that I'll have a muffin top when I wear my favorite jeans.  I'm talking about the fear that the kids won't eat what I make for dinner.

And the more I fear, the less they eat.  It's like they can smell my desperation, my insane desire for them to enjoy whatever I've been slaving over in the kitchen.  That they'll say "Yummy Mommy!" rather than "Eww, this tastes like poo poo!"

I never questioned my cooking skills before I inadvertently became a contestant on Top Chef: Mommy Edition.  In fact, the Italian in me could be quite cocky when it came my abilities in the kitchen.  But when my kids turned three and became mini food critics, I began to wonder if I had what it takes to please their picky palettes.

That's why, in a moment of desperation, I purchased Deceptively Delicious by  Jessica Seinfeld (Jerry's wife) last week.  Lured in by the promise of happy mealtimes, I bought into the theory that pureeing veggies and hiding them in a bowl of pasta or grilled cheese was the way to go.  That if I forced encouraged my five-year-old to help prepare the meals she might be more likely to eat them.

And, being the Type A'er I am, I threw myself into Project "Eat your damn food!" with abandon.  Jessica was kind enough to let me know all of the kitchen items I was missing and gently scolded me in her book for not using whole wheat flour and breadcrumbs.  And after a very expensive trip to Whole Foods, I too was ready to grind every vegetable in the house into oblivion. It was so easy! she declared.  She and Jerry puree very Sunday evening after they put their perfect children to bed while watching Seinfeld reruns! Okay, maybe not the last part.

But after spending THREE hours in the kitchen pureeing my ass off, I started to think Jessica had misled me a bit.  That maybe she didn't realize that I'd be working in a small galley kitchen with a old cuisinart rather than a ginormous space filled with Viking appliances, sub-zero refrigeration and a Magic Bullet.  Or that I'd actually be the one doing it. (C'mon, does this beyotch really want me to believe she doesn't have even a part-time chef?)

But I was determined.  And after bagging and marking and dating each and every bag, I was ready to conquer my kid's eating habits.  Because if Jessica Seinfeld could get her kids to eat tofu nuggets with broccoli puree secretly hidden in it, then DAMNIT, so could I!

But as tasty as those tofu nuggets sounded(not!), I decided to start with the tortilla cigars.  Because anything with cream cheese and cheddar cheese in a tortilla couldn't be that bad, right?  Even WITH the yellow squash and carrot puree hidden deep within.

I was giddy with anticipation (or maybe just delirious from working in a hot kitchen for three hours) when I took the cigars out of the oven.  I  had tasted them and they were damn good- you would never know that there was secret nutritional value lurking inside. And after initially turning their noses up at something new like they usually do, I was able to threaten them with time out lovingly convince them to take a bite.

And guess what?  I didn't hear the word "disgusting" uttered the entire meal.  Although my five-year-old did declare halfway through that she didn't like them as much as she originally thought. But I didn't care.  I decided then and there that it had all been worth it.  That it really didn't matter if Jessica and Jerry Seinfeld had never pureed a sweet potato in their life or if they had a housekeeper that cleaned up the ridiculous mess that pureeing made.  Because my children ate something new and liked it.

And I believe that my daughter was more willing to try it because she had helped in the kitchen.  Like she finally knew what it felt like to work your ass off only to have your children do their best Gordan Ramsey impersonation.

So one small victory for mom.  I'm moving on to butter noodles with yellow squash and chicken soup with cauliflower next.  From now on, instead of smelling fear, my little animals with breathe in my deceptively delicious creations. And whether Jessica sits on the couch reading US Weekly while her housekeeper slaves away or if she has a date each Sunday night with her Magic Bullet, it doesn't really matter.  Because for one night, I was Top Chef of my own kitchen again.

xoxo, Liz

Lit IT Girl: Debut Author Kim Wright

We think finding a new author to love is the best thing, well, EVEH.  And when we crush on a book, we crush hard.  We think about it when it's not around, we talk about it incessantly to all of our friends and we try to spend as much time with it as possible. So when our publicist suggested we read Love in Mid Air by Kim Wright, we were ecstatic to discover how beautifully written her debut was.  We were in love!  In fact, Liz's husband begged her to stop talking about it on their trip to Cabo. (We think maybe he was just jealous that she wrote Kim a love note after she finished it?)  Liz also chose it as a  hot summer beach read over at SheKnows.com!

In Love in Mid Air, Elyse Bearden’s marriage is already in trouble when she meets a handsome stranger on her flight home from Arizona. Her husband, a doting father to their young daughter but an inattentive husband, has been communicating with her via post-it note for far too long and seems content with having sex in the kiss-less "X" position once a week.

So it’s not surprising when she starts a torrid affair with the man she meets in row 29-somehow trying to recapture the excitement she feels is sorely missing from her marriage and her life in general. Love in Mid Air is honest and captivating-one of the best books we've read this year. Want to know more?  Check out the book trailer!

And we're lucky enough to have FIVE copies of Love in Mid Air to give to our fantastic readers!  Just leave a comment and we'll pick a winner by random drawing on Thursday night.

And we're so excited that Kim agreed to be a Lit IT Girl!  Because we discovered that, not only is she a genius author, she loves Grey Goose and trashy TV just like us!  And her journey to publishing should give every aspiring author hope.

CHICK LIT IS NOT DEAD PRESENTS: LIT IT GIRL KIM WRIGHT!

How many agents did you query before you found “the one”?

I lost count.  Although several of my friends had published books, I had this nutty idea I was going to make it on my own and not ask anybody for favors.  You know, “If the book is good it will make it on its own merits”  - that sort of insanity.  After thirty something agents turned me down, I called my friend Alison Smith, who had written a highly successful memoir called Name All the Animals, and was like “Um, gee, um, would you introduce me to your agent?”  And he’s turned out to be the perfect fit.  It’s funny because he was on my radar screen all the time.  It’s like traveling the world in search of the perfect man and marrying the boy next door.

What was your rock bottom moment during the process?

During that long hunt for representation I got a lot of rejection, but one of them stands out.  I’d walked to the mailbox and the envelope was thin so I figured it wasn’t good news.  But the agent hadn’t just said no, she’d gone on for a whole page scolding me for writing a book that she thought glorified affairs and divorce.  It started out with “This shameful story….”  I literally sat down in the middle of my driveway.  For a minute I thought I was going to pass out.  My therapist still has a copy of that rejection letter in my file!

How long did it take to write your book?

I never know how to answer this because I wrote a very long, very bad first draft of the book and then put it down for two years.  When I picked it back up I did a brutal revision, slicing out big sections and pretty much building it back up from scratch.  That took a couple of years and then there was the aforementioned hunt for an agent and then, once my agent sold it, the publisher held it for two more years before it was released.  So if you count the fallow periods it took ten years;  I think I actually worked on it for five.

What did you do to celebrate your book deal?

Went to New York and met everyone from the publicity team to the foreign rights team to the receptionist down in the lobby.   Then after being this complete networking fool, I went off on my own and just sat there and let it sink in.   I remember sitting at the bar of the St. Moritz thinking “I have a book.  I actually have a book.”

Knowing what you know now about publishing your first novel, what would you have done differently?

Honestly, nothing.  I made bunches of mistakes but looking back it all seems like a necessary part of the journey.  I might have swallowed my silly country pride and asked my friends for help sooner.

Who is your writer crush?

Tom Perotta!  His “Little Children” was a huge influence on “Love in Mid Air.”  I recently friended him on Facebook and am trying to decide how to stalk him without it being too obvious.

What’s your biggest distraction or vice while writing?

Sudoku.  It’s like crack cocaine for me.

GNO drink of choice?

Grey Goose vodka, very cold and straight up.  It was what I was drinking when I was sitting in the St. Moritz thinking “Holy Mother of God, my book is actually going to be published.”

Favorite trashy TV show?

I love reality TV.  Dancing With the Stars, Top Chef, Project Runway, The Biggest Loser. My latest guilty pleasure is this show called Chopped on the Food Channel.  They give chefs these mystery baskets with strange ingredients like gooseberries, chocolate, bell peppers, and calamari and they have to make an appetizer using them all.  Great stuff.

What celeb would you love to have a Twitter war with?

Elisabeth Hasselbeck makes me nauseous.  So she might not be that fun to war with, because I’d be livid the whole time.  Love in Mid Air recently came out in Australia and I heard Germaine Greer is mad at me about some things I said about feminism in an interview and that’s sort of cool.  I think in the long run, I’d like to have a Twitter war with someone I respect.

Thanks so much Kim! xoxo, L&L

To learn more about Lit IT Girl Kim Wright, head on over to her website or find her on Facebook.

Study Guide by Liz

Get a colonoscopy. Listen to Miley Cyrus and Britney Spears discuss world politics.

Be a contestant on Survivor.

*rings buzzer* What are "Things Liz would rather do than study?"

DING DING DING DING DING!  YOU ARE CORRECT!

I've never been the "studious" type.  In fact, and I've never really been a "details" type of girl and well, quite frankly, cramming really cramps my style.

So you may find it funny that I pursued a career in an industry where constant learning in essential and testing your knowledge is a common occurence.  But somehow, I always found a way to make it work...Until I had kids.

I had always thought it was a myth that you can't remember shit after having children. Um, yeah. I couldn't have been more wrong.  Since giving birth to mine, I can barely remember where my keys are each day, let alone memorize the statistical analysis of seven clinical trials.  In fact, I spent twenty minutes frantically searching for my bluetooth last week, only to find it...on my ear. And the only thing I seem to be able to remember these day is who won last week's elimination challenge on Top Chef and the plotline for Grey's Anatomy.

Not to mention the fact that all this haphazard studying makes me feel like I've boarded a time machine and traveled to...1994. Like I'm pulling an all-nighter in the Cal Poly library so I can flirt with that cute boy from Communication 101 (Because really, is there any other reason to pull an all-nighter?) and attempting in vain to figure out how the f*ck to work the Lexis Nexis. Yeah, you heard me right, Lexis Nexis.  I've just officially  admitted that I attended college before internet was available.  Back then, we were so looking forward to seeing what that "Information Superhighway" was all about.  And the only way to research a paper was to actually open a book. *insert dinosaur jokes here*

Back then, my biggest worry was what I would wear to that night's sorority mixer or what drink wouldn't make me throw up on the way home in Marty Mazda .  So, because  I just can't  get Whatta Man by Salt N Pepa out of my head, I've decided to take a break from memorizing P values and take a leisurely stroll down memory lane...Care to join me?

LIZ'S MUST LIST...FROM 1994

1. Brown-braided belt with polo shirt with penny loafers

Why Lisa and I felt the need to deny any and all sex appeal in order to channel our inner-male with this ensemble will always baffle me.  And I think we actually put a penny in our loafers.  Gag!  To this day, I still can't shake my aversion for collared shirts.  NEVUH AGAIN, I SAY!

2. The soundtrack to The Bodyguard

I don't want to call anyone out(Lisa) but someone(Lisa) REALLY liked this soundtrack.  And that someone would sing it very loudly, as if they were channeling Whitney Houston herself.  ALOT.  Okay, okay, maybe I sang with her.  Sometimes.

3.  Gas for $1.09 and homes for $119,000

Do you think they'll let me fill up my time machine before I head home?  Or just stay and make an offer on that place I've had my eye on?  Because I'd be willing to tolerate scrunchies and the rise of the Spice Girls again if it meant I could have affordable housing!

4. Bobby McGee's

If you needed to find me on any given Thursday, Friday or Saturday, I'd be here in my shortest skort doing the poor-man's electric slide or shaking my ass to the Macarena.  And I used to wonder why I was single?

5.  The "Rachel" haircut

Oh, how I wanted this haircut.  In fact, "The Rachel" is the whole reason I got off my ass and learned how to straighten my hair.  Because although the 80's were kind to those of us who were follically challenged, the nineties had no such patience. Unfortunately, I never did quite perfect my "Rachel", prompting others to refer to it as the "Rochelle", her slightly frizzy second cousin.

What was your Must List in the nineties?

xoxo, Liz