Forget Hugh Hefner! It's All About Kody Brown.

They’ve taken over TLC, PerezHilton.com, and probably the registry at every single Pottery Barn Kids in Utah. But if you still haven’t heard of Sister Wives, you’ve probably fallen off of the face of the Earth. When I first heard of the polygamy-based reality television series, I thought, Is this Girls Next Door all over again minus the palm trees and the breast implants? But I was wrong. Sister Wives, featuring advertising exec Kody Brown and his four wives Meri (the first one), Janelle (the career one, who kind of resembles Mrs. Clause), Christine (the sassy sister), and Robyn (the hot, young wife) is a candid approach to a lifestyle that still exists among approximately 38,000 Americans, most of them Mormon. And minus the fact that they live together in adjoining suites within a giant house, and Kody rotates his time with each of the wives, they all go through the challenges of any other family out there; The teenagers dye their hair crazy colors, they fret over what to make for dinner, the kids fight with one another, and they debate over financial priorities. And they’re not exactly FLDS Prairie-looking women either; While Robyn’s wedding gown was not my first choice, the women dress like modest, career-forward American women.


While polygamy is still very illegal in Utah, Kody has recently be caught under fire, and may even go to jail for his polygamous lifestyle (despite the fact that he’s only legally married to Meri, his first wife). And while the family said that they decided to do the program to show to the rest of America that they were like any other family, they’ve been under fire and big pimpin’ Kody could be locked up forever.

And you know what? While you would NEVER catch me as a sister wife, and would strongly discourage my children from taking part in this lifestyle, I’m a pro-choice girl and feel that this family should be able to live however they’d like. If they’re fostering their children in an environment of love and acceptance (many of the children don’t want to be a polygamist lifestyle when they’re older and speak openly about this), I think that families should be able to live however the hell they want. Why are we locking up Kody Brown when there are plenty of monogamous families out there who embody abuse, addiction, and adultery in their homes? In a country like the United States where we foster the ideals of diversity, I don’t understand why we are so scared to accept an alternative lifestyle on the opposite end of the spectrum.

But whether you believe in it or not, there’s no dying that Sister Wives is an addictive show- or that Kody Brown is the biggest pimp daddy in all of Utah.

Think Pink in DC this Month

A year and a half ago, my Whole Foods-eating, 5K-running, Ralph Lauren-wearing mother got the family together to tell us some crazy news:

"I'll be getting a tummy tuck and breast implants in three months".

I gave her a huge hug, smiled, and congratulated her in finally converting to my world of cosmetic alterations. But when she looked at my brother and I glassy-eyed, I knew that there was more to come. She explained that she was looking into a procedure to have fat removed from her stomach and moved to her breast cavities, since she had been diagnosed with DCIS breast cancer, a rare form of breast cancer that would force her to have both of her breasts removed. I cried, but stayed strong more my mom, because I knew that she would need me for the next year. And she did. It was tough; My dad and I tried to cheer her up, bought her sexy lingerie post-surgery to get her excited for the implants to come, and constantly made all of the "cancer-schmancer" jokes to make whatever light was left to be had of the situation. Though it was a crazy year and a half battle, and she dealt with several surgeries, I'm proud to say that all of the tears payed off- Joan Panichas-Milas is now a cancer survivor, and though she hates all of the "pink ribbon crap" as she puts it, I always remind her that the pink ribbon is there to comfort every tear that's shed for women everywhere who have been plagued by membership to the cancer club.
But there is hope, support, and wonderful stories of trial and tribulation that help breast cancer patients stay strong, and with October being breast cancer awareness month, there are some awesome ways in the District to get involved and help save the ta-ta's everywhere:

• Participate in the Komen 5K Race for the Cure. You'll get exercise, an adorable pink boa, and bond with survivors, supporters, and so many powerful men and women affected by the disease.
• Upload a photo of you in your favorite pink attire to 69-second.org, a site that donates to breast cancer for every picture uploaded
• Check out the Zumbathon and Pink for Pilates at Vida Verizon Center on October 30th! For $25, take part in 2 hours worth of pilates or 2 hours of Zumba, all supporting awareness (while checking out some of the hottest gays at Vida, duh).
• Join GoPinkDC for a line dancing and rowing event on October 23rd downtown. For a small donation, enjoy a day of fun events with these spunky survivors and supporters.  
• Check out the Breastival at the American University Campus on October 17th. With great giveaways and excellent information on site, you'll want every festival to be a breastival from then on!

Know anyone dealing with breast cancer right now? Don't let them give up. If my mom made it through, anyone can, and by supporting these events, you'll providing a shoulder for people in these positions to lean on. So whether you dye your hair Kelly Osborne style or paint your toes Malibu Barbie style, thinking pink is totally in this month. 

Zeno: Hot Spot for Acne

Because there's nothing hot about pimples, let's be honest. And not to sound like Joan Rivers in an infomercial, but this product will truly change your life. Wake up in the morning with a disgusting whitehead on the middle of your face? Well, you'll have to put some cover-up on it and deal with it for the entire day at work and hope that people are talking to you and not staring at your face. But in the evening, use the Zeno, an electronic device that actually kills bacteria while massaging the spot and removing in within hours. The reaction IS extremely red for the time immediately following using the product, which is why it's imperative to avoid using it before you're going out. But, if you use it before bed, wake up the next morning to clear skin- which, I might add, a lot of products promote but don't actually do. And what's more, with Whitney Port's celebrity endorsement on the product's home page? Damn, if one of The Hills' girls are using it, you know I'll buy it faster than you can say O-M-G. But regardless if you Team Lauren or Team Whitney, the Zeno is $40, can be purchased at any drug store, and will miraculously remove your pimps. Because pimples aren't sexy.

Tim Gunn in DC?

I know I'm about a week overdue, but I forgot to mention that one of the most fabulous gays from the entertainment world took to his hometown the past week to raise some money for the GLTS community in DC. And with the recent tragedies in the media surrounding the gay community, there's so better to show that the bigots out there have got to just "make it work" (as Mr. Gunn himself would say on Project Runway). A DC native himself, Tim got behind the bar at one of Logan Circle's finest establishments, Mova (formally known as Halo), as he whipped up some of the best cocktails including delicious banana martinis and strawberry kir royales; He concluded the night even coming up with his own vodka cocktail, known as "Gunning Your Special". And while I'm sure styling and designing is definitely more of his forte, from what I heard, his mixology (and drinking) abilities were a forced to be reckoned with, as well. Don't you just wish that the well-dressed, personable, and rich ones were straight sometimes?

Check out Blade.com, DC's online gay magazine, for an exclusive on-site interview with Tim Gunn at Mova last Monday. http://www.washingtonblade.com/2010/09/28/bravos-tim-gunn-at-mova/

'Catfish' makes my Facebook stalking seem normal...

If you haven't seen Catfish yet, then you're not living. Tonight, my brother who is in town from Philly and I thought we'd steer clear of the typical Halloween slasher movies, and instead, saw the independent documentary flick that still has me in awe. Having gotten positive reviews from Perez, Rolling Stone, and all other relatively credible news sources, this movie has a unique plot twist, eerie scenes, and an end that will make you say OMG. Without giving too much away, the movie is set in 2008, when three New York-based cinematographers document the relationship of their friend and a family that he had been in correspondence with via Facebook for the past year. A sudden turn of events leads the three guys to research the truth in the family's actual existence and crazy things begin to be uncovered.
Now, I can't talk too much smack on the movie's subject, since I probably Facebook stalk way more than I should on a daily basis (ex-boyfriends, beware). But, the entertainment, creativity, and fact that everything in this movie is true will freakin' blow your mind. Bring your boo or your girls, order a huge popcorn, and then be prepared to reconsider what you're doing on Facebook from your cubicle at work every day.

I jumped out of an airplane!

With Lindsay Lohan in and out of jail, muddling with cocaine and meth, and spending the majority of her time in faux-lesbian relationships and trashy LA nightclubs, I truly believe that had she tried this on for size five years ago when she entered Hollywood, she would have gotten an adrenaline rush more intense than the best blow she could have gotten her hands on. And, with that being said and after an incredible weekend, I can endorse that sky-diving is officially the greatest anti-drug out there.

Let me go back to how this all began, when I was drinking Sex on the roof of the double, and after my third glass, my friend Vanessa leaned over to me and asked if I’d like to go skydiving with her in three weeks. Having little inhibitions during this conversation, Vanessa booked the sky diving appointment on the spot, and there was no turning back.
I’ve always loved roller coasters and fast cars, but jumping out of a plane?! I don’t think I’ve had more anxiety over anything in my entire life (and you’re talking to Xanax’s best friend right here, I won’t even lie about that).
Rocking out to some Slightly Stoopid and Sublime to soothe me all the way there, we cruised to Warrentown, Virginia, about an hour and a half outside of the city, and to be honest, I’m surprised that the guy from Texas Chainsaw Massacre didn’t attack us on the side of the road. But after arriving, shaking as I put on my cheerleading sneakers from Junior year of high school, I met a family of sky-divers at Capitol City Sky Dive, a family-run company with so much Southern hospitality that I was put at ease immediately. After the owner giving us a quick ten minute demo of how to arch our back during free-fall and his three-year-old grand daughter following along, he mentioned that he’d done over seven thousand sky dives to date! Out of nervousness, I jumped on the opportunity to be the first one to go up in the plane, since we’d be going one by one due to the plane’s small size.
Aren’t a fan of small jumper planes? This sport is NOT for you (sorry, Mom). On a slightly scary note, I will add that the plane was filled with duck tape and totally rickety, but knowing I would jump out after the longest ten minute flight to 10,000 feet of my life didn’t have me worrying about the poor plane conditions. My tandem jumper made light conversation with me, sensing my nervousness. At ten thousand feet, the plane stopped, and probably the scariest moment of my entire life occurred. The side door opened, and there I was, sitting with my feet on a small foot stool, with the winds going so fast against my face. Knowing that I would be jumping was surreal; if God was ever with me at any point during my life, it was at that moment, SERIOUSLY. And then I was told we’d rock back and forth, and on the third rock, we’d somersault head first out of the plane.
In my fake eyelashes and cubic zirconia studs, I free falled one thousand feet in ten seconds and the feeling was indescribable. Despite my apprehensions, my stomach didn’t drop for a single second. There have been roller coasters that I’ve done that have been legitimately scarier. But it was AMAZING; I felt like Superman, somersaulting and tumbling down for a full minute at speeds of one hundred forty miles per hour. And then, after three minutes, the parachute opened, we hopped up two hundred feet, and then, silence. After experiencing the greatest intensity of my life, I then felt like I was on a subliminal parasailing adventure, catching views of the beautiful Shenandoah Mountains.
“Do your boobs hurt?” The instructor asked me in his redneck-y accent, totally killing the mood of my relaxation, as the harness across the chest is known to be uncomfortable for females. We glided down, and he even let me steer my way all two thousand feet to the bottom. The landing was easy, graceful, and felt as if I was in some kind of pilates position. Lesson learned; suck it up, jump out of a plane, and DO IT! It’s horrifying and will probably give you the greatest anxiety of your life, but it’s all worth it. Just make sure you’re wearing a sexy outfit for the pictures!

Chelsea Handler was a Dud

I know this is old news, but with my job, internship, pageant coaching, cocktail waitressing, and social calendar always filling up, blogging can sometimes be a tough task to accomplish. Plus, if they choice is whether to go to Vida and get a great yoga workout or sit on my coach, blog, and eat Pirate’s Booty I’d stick with the first at the risk of getting obese and losing all of my friends. But, for the record, I am thoroughly disappointed and let down by my idol, Chelsea Handler, and her recent VMA hosting gig.

Her usually sarcastic, straight-forward, and raunchy humor makes me envious; I actually have gotten irritated watching her before because her jokes are so good that I actually get jealous of her ability. Her books are hilarious; who knew having sex with a midget could be such an adventure? But in the midst of all of this, Chels just didn’t live up to my expectations in her hosting abilities.
The hot tub vignette with the Jersey Shore cast? Wackkk. The hate on Gaga’s crazy outfits? Overkill. But most of all, it was her constant reference to the Kayne\Taylor beef that occurred last year, which is so over, I’m sure they’ve apologized already, and honestly, should not even be given another ten seconds for what it’s worth. Plus, why are we making jokes about Lindsay Lohan’s alcoholism and performing skits with her? To me, La Loca’s hot mess is not a laughing matter.
On the flip side, Chels looked HOT. I loved all of her outfit choices, and truly thought she looked great. With most of the good females comedians not exactly looking like they can afford the celebrity amenities that I’m sure their budgets can handle in the looks department (Margaret Cho or Roseann Barr, anyone?), she pulled herself together nicely and looked like one of the stars who she’d normally be making fun of. I just wished she was funnier, dammit.