"Repeat from Step 1"

Just a few days left to enter to win great holiday treats! I'm gonna give you a pass because I know you've been tied up with Thanksgiving, but you better go back & post your comment NOW!! Drawing takes place Friday!

*******

I had a photo shoot yesterday. I have a new writing gig (which I will share with you soon!) and I needed a head shot. Unfortunately, I don't have anyone I can rely upon to take a decent photo of me. I asked my husband to take a photo of my family that was together for Thanksgiving, and this is what I got:

Six feet of headroom, and my niece & nephew cut off at the chin.

But my camera must have a timer on it, right? So I set up my own photo shoot. And since I don't have a tripod, I set up my camera on the ironing board. Which turned out to be too short. So I also set it on three photo albums, Harry Potter & the Half-blood Prince, Anna Karenina, two paperbacks and a Lemony Snicket book.

Then I made Chip sit for a couple of shots but that didn't last very long. The problem is, even with the timer, I have to have something to focus on. The shutter timer won't even set until something is in focus. So I looked around in the spare bedroom for maybe an old stuffed animal or something? I found a camel, but it lays down, so it was too short. So I had to prop him up on some pillows.

This is my stand-in, Cami.

Now anyone who has ever been on a photo shoot, or even seen one on TV, knows that you take hundreds of photos just to get a few good shots. Sadly, because I was photographer, talent, stylist, hair, make-up and lighting for this photo shoot, each one of my shots followed this very slow procedure:

1. Focus camera on Cami.
2. Set timer.
3. Move from behind camera.
4. Knock Cami & her pillows off the table.
5. Sit on table.
6. Strike a pose.
7. SNAP.
8. Replace Cami & the pillows for next shot.
9. Go back behind camera.
10. Review last shot.
11. Repeat from step 1.

Obviously, this is quite a tedious way to get a decent photo of oneself. I worked up quite a sweat, which required "MAKE UP!" Oh wait, that's me too.

In spite of the sluggish pace of the shoot, I still took over a hundred photos of myself.

Needless to say, I didn't get any laundry done yesterday.

"Still a perfect record of having never cooked a turkey."

Best. Thanksgiving. So Far.

We'd planned for just two guests (Chip's parents), but my family said they would come later, for dessert. Still, I cooked a metric shitload of food. Because Thanksgiving is easily the best meal of the year and I wanted to make sure I had plenty of leftovers.

I did not cook a turkey. Forty-three years old and still a perfect record of having never cooked a turkey. Look, I live in Memphis. There's a bar-be-que restaurant on every corner. And every one of 'em is just dying to smoke a turkey for your holiday meal. So we've always taken advantage of that. Of course now, I work for the most famous bar-be-que'er in town, so things like ribs - and smoked turkeys - are a fringe benefit.

Chip and Elijah insisted we not eat until late - 4 pm - so around noon I put the turkey in the oven for two-and-a-half hours to heat. I made traditional sweet potatoes (with the nuts, not marshmallow, topping, since I'm apparently the only one who likes the marshmallow topping), traditional stuffing (no add-ins, since I'm apparently the only one who likes add-ins), green bean casserole (Chip's favorite). Also on the menu was canned cranberry jelly, which I absolutely LOVE and would eat every day of the year if I thought people wouldn't look at me funny, and of course turkey gravy. And I made a pumpkin pie because I was SMART enough to buy canned pumpkin on Sunday before the stores all sold out. Okay, actually I was LUCKY enough because I didn't even know there was a pumpkin shortage.

So I'm preparing the stuffing and Elijah is making fun of my apron...like he's never seen me COOK before. Which, come to think of it, it's probably been several years.

Wow, my kitchen looks junky from this angle. And my hair looks wet. Actually, my hair was wet. And my kitchen is pretty junky.

Then I got a text from my brother saying that his family wasn't having Thanksgiving dinner afterall and would we mind if he and the kids came a bit earlier? I said Come on! I got tons of food! Then I texted my mom and said "Steve & the kids are coming for dinner so u should too." She called a bit later and said her sister who was coming in from Hot Springs, Ark., was running like four hours late and maybe she would come eat afterall, too.

So what started out as two guests for Thanksgiving dinner blossomed into six guests for dinner and I could not have been more pleased! First, I had tons of food. Second, the food was all REALLY GOOD!! And third, as much as I joke about my family, they're my family, and damn, I love em.

3/4 of the family, together again. We missed you, Em!!

Everything was oh emm gee delicious. For someone who doesn't cook, I turned out one hell of a meal. If you're in Memphis and you're picking up a smoked turkey for the holidays, you're doing yourself a disservice if you're not getting it from Neely's. Everyone raved about the turkey and declared it the best we've ever had. The stuffing kicked ass and the sweet potatoes rocked my world. Only downside was I used the wrong damn green beans in the green bean casserole - I didn't get the french cut ones which I KNEW I just don't know what I was thinking. So I owe Chip another green bean casserole. The pumpkin pie was perfect and mom brought a pecan pie and the nine of us pretty much finished off EVERYTHING.

And I'll take family together over leftovers any holiday of the year.

"Let's get this holiday sugar rush started!"

You know what season it is? It's the season for CANDY!

I discovered this web site when I twittered once about not being able to get Jordan Almonds at the movie theater anymore. 'Cause COME ON!! Jordan Almonds are synonymous with movie theaters. And because of my twitterwhinging, Oh! Nuts was kind enough to send me THREE BAGS of Jordan Almonds. And I gotta tell you, they were a lot fresher and tastier than any I'd ever had at the movie theater.

(As a side note, did you know that almonds are one of the top 5 foods to lower your cholesterol? They're a very healthy snack.)

So to get us in the holiday spirit, I'm offering a little Oh! Nuts giveaway!

You can choose from chocolate, or Hanukkah gifts, or nuts - which are great for holiday baking as well as for snacking. They even have sugar-free candy if you so require. And one of you will receive a $25 gift certificate to Oh! Nuts just for being a loyal Heels reader this year.

So here's what you do. Check out the Oh! Nuts web page and select your favorite Hanukkah or Christmas gift. Leave a comment on this blog post with the name and url address of the gift you love most.

I will pick a winner at random on Friday, December 5.

I am required by law to tell you that if I get 60 or more comments on this post, I'll get a gift certificate, too!! I am not, however, required by law to share my Jordan Almonds with you. I like you but don't push your luck.

So leave your comments! And tell your friends! And let's get this holiday sugar rush started!






You can enter a secondary drawing for weekly giveaways from Oh! Nuts:
Enter on facebook
You can also enter on facebook by becoming a fan of Oh! Nuts and posting the name & url of your favorite treat on the wall. Make sure You write "I am here via theoneinheels.com"

Enter on twitter:
Follow @ohnuts and tweet, "Win a free Hanukkah Gift from http://bit.ly/6nIsCi Follow @ohnuts & Retweet to enter." Or tweet, "Win a free Christmas Gift from http://bit.ly/537HNp Follow @ohnuts & Retweet to enter.”

"Thank god their teeth are protected."

Elijah decided a month or so ago he wanted to play rugby for Germantown HS this year and I was a bit concerned because everyone knows it's more violent than football and the players don't wear pads. Or helmets. They do, however, wear mouth guards so thank god their teeth are protected. Rugby is a club sport which means anyone who joins can play (I think?). The teams are named by the high school but I'm frankly not that sure how school-related they actually are.

Today was the High School Rugby Jamboree. This is when all the teams get together in the preseason and play half-length matches. This was not only the first match I've ever attended, but the first I've ever seen. The only rule I knew was that you can't pass the ball forward. Elijah told me that. The match was really intense and I learned a bit about the game. Like for instance, you can't really sit down and watch it. You kind of have to move up and down the "pitch" to follow the action.

This is called a "ruck." This is what happens when a runner gets tackled. The good news is, the runner must release the ball as soon as he's tackled. Releasing the ball makes it available to both teams, so he'll generally try to place it somewhere near his own players. The bad news is, once the player releases the ball, he immediately covers his head with his arms to keep from being kicked in the head. The other good news is, Elijah doesn't run with the ball - he's not fast enough - so he doesn't actually get tackled.

Elijah is a "jumper" - because he's so tall. When the ball is inbounded, the players lift their jumpers in the air to try to catch the ball. Elijah tapes these tubular-shaped pads to his knees so the lifters have something to lift him by.

Elijah jumped a couple times in the match - but this one was the most exciting. He got the ball! Then he passed it off to his teammate (#10)...

...who passed it to Ethan who ran and scored a "try"! Five points Griffendor!! I mean Germantown! Then, after Elijah got the ball and we got the try, several of the moms came over to introduce themselves and congratulate me. That almost never happens in basketball.

This is called a "scrum." Near as I can tell, it's kind of like a jump ball in basketball. The players interlock arms to "bind" and form these walls - the first row standing, the second row supporting them with their shoulders below their butts. The guy in the very back is the Number 8. The teams push against each other, then someone throws the ball onto the ground in the middle of the scrum and the players kick it around until it gets kicked out and one of the players outside the scrum picks it up and runs with it. Frankly, the entire process feels like it was created by a 6 year old.

The match ended in a tie: Germantown 7, White Station 7. I don't know if a regular match would end tied; that might have just been because it was a jamboree. It was more fun and less violent than I expected, so I think I'm all in for the season.

From the Road

Wow, has this trip been a killer. But I knew it would be.

I had thought my days of getting up at the butt-crack of dawn to do SMTs were behind me when I quit doing PR. But alas, here I am again.

So, for the second day in a row, I was up before 4 a.m. this morning. And I'm not a big fan of that. You know that feeling of exhaustion that penetrates deep into your chest, to the core of your being? Where you're so tired you could sleep standing up? I had that.

The SMT concluded with a live appearance at the Chicago ABC station. Then we had lunch at a place called Kinzie Chophouse and finally got back to the hotel around 3.

I haven't seen a thing of Chicago since I've been here. It's been cold (in the 40s) and raining. This is the second trip I've made here without getting to Millennium Park. Also, my phone died, my charger is broken, and the hotel doesn't have Lifetime so I can't watch the Project Runway finale.

On the plus side, I'm eating ice cream for dinner.

"I totally blame Delta."

I am sick.

It's my first cold of the season and I'm so bummed. Because I am such an obsessive hand-washer, so I feel like I somehow don't deserve to be sick. But then I get into a giant flying germ-tube and I'm totally at the mercy of that hacking cough behind me.

I totally blame Delta for this cold, too. Thursday night at 10:45 p.m. I was finally on my way home after six days on the road. There was no part of my body that didn't ache with weariness. I typically can't sleep on planes or in cars. I'm just not good at sleeping sitting up. But I was so completely exhausted that I thought for sure I would be able to sleep on this late flight home.

I got on the plane, took my window seat and pulled out my little travel pillow. I propped by head up against the window and felt myself beginning to doze while we waited to take off. Once we took off, the air conditioner started pumping. Which made no sense since the temperature on the ground was in the 40s.

I was wearing winter leggings, a tee-shirt and a cardigan sweater, and I was so fucking cold all I could do was sit huddled in a ball with my TEETH CHATTERING. All ahead of me I watched as passengers reached up to try to turn their air vents off, only to realize they weren't on. The guy next to me first rolled his shirtsleeves down, then a few minutes later put his suit coat back on. It had to be 60 degrees in that plane.

The flight attendants pulled out their drink cart and pushed it to the front of the aisle. I waited and waited until they finally got to me, and I asked them, "Can't you do something about the temperature in here??"

"What about it?" the attendant asked.

"It's FREEZING!"

"Oh. Okay."

And here's the part I don't get: I was in row 22. Which means there were 12 rows of people in front of me who had to be every bit as cold as I was, and not one of them said anything to the crew? How is that possible? If everyone who was cold had asked the crew to adjust the air, they would understand that it truly was too cold for comfort on board. If I'm the only one to say anything, they think I'm just some pain-in-the-ass passenger.

So I ask my flight attendant readers: Who controls the air temperature in the plane? And do passenger complaints matter? What do you recommend we do? Is speaking up helpful?

"Every one of them has a story."

I love to travel. I’m not too crazy about the flying and driving and riding part. Or the sitting in a plane on the tarmac part…which is what I’m doing right now. But I love the going to different places part. I am fascinated by other lives in other cities. No offense to people who travel excessively for work and are beat up (or beat down) by the process, but I couldn’t imagine going to another city and then spending my free time – even if it’s only a minute – in my hotel room.

In New York I stayed at 59th (also called Central Park South) and 7th in Midtown Manhattan. We arrived Monday afternoon, and went that evening to a rehearsal at the Today show studios. Tuesday morning I got up at 4:45 for Today, followed by Wendy Williams show and then lunch at Bobby Flay's Bar American.

By then we were all just about beat dead, but I stopped for a coffee on my way back to the hotel. And I got a second wind. Also, it was only 2:30 in the afternoon and we weren't leaving until the next morning.

So I grabbed my camera and started walking. I walked through Central Park

I cut over to the Upper West Side, and walked about 12 blocks north


Then I cut back through Central Park again


To the Upper East Side


And I had a wonderful time - even though I wish my feet & legs hadn't given out after two-and-a-half hours because there was oh, so much more to see, even just around the neighborhoods I was in.

But I really wanted to be taking photos of the PEOPLE.


And I would have - if I thought I could do it without getting myself arrested.

Because every one of them has a story. Like this little girl


who you just know lives here

From the Road

DC was great. We saw Guy.

























We saw Paula.

























And I saw my niece!

























Then we got on the train and headed for New York. Riding the train was very cool. But bumpy. It made me carsick. Union Station in DC was AMAZING. Wish I'd had time to stroll around and take pictures there.

In New York, we saw Giada.

























I couldn't get a room where my bosses are staying, so their agent offered to put me up at his private club. It's awesome. There's a dress code. And since all I brought were jeans & leggings, I have to use the back door, climb three flights of stairs & use the "athletic elevator."

Speaking of leggings, that's all anyone here is wearing. With ballet flats. I don't know who Carrie Bradshaw thought she was fooling - women in NY don't wear heels on the street.

Okay, very early morning tomorrow. Make sure you watch Today show at 8:49!





Update: Click here to see the video from Today show this morning.

"I should be packing."

So, I leave tomorrow and I should be packing, but instead I'm obsessively making lists of outfits I might wear on my trip.

Then I laid them out on the floor and took photos of them.

You do that, right?

Tomorrow, on the plane to Washington, DC:

Click on photos to embiggen.

Black leggings, long-sleeved black t-shirt, gray cardigan, black loafers. Very casual & comfortable. Don't want to start out too high because then you can only go down from there.

Tomorrow evening, charity cocktail party:

Black leggings, gray empire waist cableknit sweater, black boots, cuff bracelet & cocktail ring. It's important for me to look appropriately dressed but still kind of blend into the crowd. I'm not the star here.

Sunday, Metropolitan Cooking & Entertainment Show:

Straight jeans, short-sleeved black turtleneck, cropped plum jacket, boots. It's a working day for me.

Monday, on the train to New York:

Boyfriend jeans, short-sleeved black t-shirt, gray cardigan and black loafers. A comfy travel outfit that is still fashionable enough to arrive in the Big Apple.

Tuesday, TODAY show appearance & Wendy Williams taping:

Straight jeans, long-sleeved black turtleneck, cropped khaki jacket, boots. It's another work day for me, and network TV calls for a certain professionalism.

Wednesday, flight to Atlanta:

Black leggings, white t-shirt, black cableknit single-button cardigan, black loafers. This will actually be the longest flight of the trip, so comfort is the priority.

Thursday, TBS studios:
This is the only outfit I haven't decided on. I might wear the sweater & leggings from the cocktail party - I'll want to look cute for all the TV people. Or I might be so worn out that I wear the most comfy outfit I can put together. Or I might wear the only thing I haven't spilled coffee on in the previous five days. We'll see.

I just got these awesome new nail colors in the mail.
I'm going to have my nails done in the gray ("Stormy") tomorrow. It's edgy without being quite so goth as black.

All right kiddos. Going to pack now.
xoxox

"I could never forget you."

I started a post last night that went like this: "Fuck, ya'll...I'm middle-aged." but then this morning I woke up to the most wonderful birthday gift a 43-year-old girl could ask for: My first best friend found me on facebook.

I met Lisa at the start of second grade. She was in my brother's kindergarten class. My mom, a SAHM, and her mom, a nurse, got to talking and next thing you know my mom is Lisa's after-school babysitter. In addition to spending every afternoon together, she also walked to school and back with me every day. Lisa lived in the cove behind ours and since a 5- and 7-year-old wouldn't have been allowed to walk around the block alone, the man who lived behind us — I forget his name but he had a little fluffy dog named Reuben — allowed my dad to place a couple cement blocks on either side of the chain link fence so we could climb it and cut through his yard.

Lisa and I were complete opposites really. She was a tomboy with short dark hair who was active in sports. I was petite and girlie with long hair. We spent our time doing things like playing Little House on the Prairie in dress-up: she was always Laura and I was Mary. Or singing and dancing to records we played on her red plastic record player: "Snoopy & Red Barron" early on, later "American Pie" and the soundtrack of Grease.

Lisa hated that her mom kept her hair cut so short (even though it was actually pretty stylish for 1973). She used to wear long-sleeved t-shirts on her head like they were her hair, and she chopped off the hair of all her Barbies. "If I can't have long hair, neither can they," she told me.

The first time I went to Lisa's house, she showed me her room, which she swore she shared with her brother. It had a big double bed with a pink-checked bedspread. I kind of doubted her story. So I asked her where her brother was. "At camp," she said. But the sibling was no more real than the jersey-knit hair. Lisa was an only child, although it took a few weeks for my mom to convince me that was true.

The only-child thing worked to my advantage, though, because Lisa's parents used to take me on their two-week vacation to Virginia Beach in the summertime. Man, those are some of my very best childhood memories — we were barefoot and tan and we ran carefree all over the neighborhood of beach houses with Laura & Ann Meade Daniel and another girl named Mary Russell. When we weren't outside wrecking havoc on the other vacationers we were inside our beach house or the Daniel's playing the Grease LP and acting out the singing and dancing. I was always Sandy; Lisa was Danny.

Lisa's parents were very different from mine. We were conservative Mormons and they were rowdy Catholics. At the beach, they would stay up late with their friends drinking and smoking cigarettes. Her dad was gruff and used cuss words that were far more colorful than the occasional "damn" or "hell" I heard at home. The fact that they were so different made me ever-so-slightly uncomfortable, but it was kind of in a good way. I probably began developing my open-minded acceptance of others in those years I hung out at Lisa's house.

At the beach, Lisa & I attended the Children's Sand & Surf Mission (CSSM) which was like two weeks of Vacation Bible School on the beach. We'd sing songs and hear gospel lessons and play games. It was loads of fun. One evening both this little Mormon girl and that little Catholic girl got saved. I'm like Elvis — I don't want to miss out on Heaven on a technicality.

Lisa and I were best friends for more than four year, when my parents moved us from our Virginia suburbs down to the Mississippi Coast. Lisa's mom brought her over to say goodbye when we were packing the moving van. As they drove off, Lisa hung her head out the window and yelled Shaun Cassidy's fan club address to me. That's what kind of friend she always was.

Lisa honey, I could never forget you! I am so blessed on this birthday to have you back in my life...32 years later!

"I need to shop for this."

So I'm making my list of stuff to pack for my upcoming six-day business trip that will include three cities (a mid-Atlantic, a northeastern, and a southeastern), a live performance [not mine, obvs], three national TV shows, three plane rides, one train ride and a cocktail party. This is going to require a very large piece of luggage.

Is four pairs of shoes too many for a six-day trip, do you think?

And I realize that what is missing from my wardrobe this season is leggings and long sweaters (which, for your ease in shopping, are often located under the "Lounge" heading in online stores. Don't ask me I don't make the rules.). And by "missing from my wardrobe," I mean "I need to shop for this."

I totally covet this off-the-shoulder stripey sweater (White House Black Market, $88) if anyone is looking to buy me a birthday present. (Thursday, thanks for asking.)

Perfect for me to wear: to the taping of a hit TBS show.
Perfect for you to wear: out to dinner with your honey.

This hoodie is a little more casual, and affordable (Old Navy, $34.50).

Perfect for me to wear: 0n the Amtrack Acela Express between DC and NYC.
Perfect for you to wear: to your kid's soccer game.

This cardigan looks like it must be the softest, coziest sweater ever in the history of knits (Banana Republic, $125).

Perfect for me to wear: in a cold, lonely hotel room.
Perfect for you to wear: to the cafe for a coffee.

Ann Taylor Loft has some great ones here and here, too, but she's being a bitch and won't let me copy any of her photos.

This banded sweater (Target, $19.99) is really cute, but it's a Junior size, so I'll probably need a XXL.

Perfect for me to wear: to a demo tech rehearsal and kitchen walk-through.
Perfect for you to wear: to have lunch with friends.

Whatever you pair with them, keep in mind the following rules for leggings:
1. Proportion is everything.
Small on bottom -->big on top. Tight on bottom -->loose on top.

2. Tops should come to the top of your thigh.
No one wants to see your privates.

3. Don't be afraid to go up a size.
Numbers don't matter. Looking like a sausage does.

4. Leggings can enlongate if worn correctly.
Dark colors and length to just above the ankle will be the most lengthening.

5. Wear the right shoes.
Ballet flats, pumps or boots of various heights all work. Tennis shoes do not.






Disclaimer: No money, sex, or other favors were exchanged for the coverage of these particular products in this post. However, I will gladly change this disclaimer if any of these stores want to send me sweaters. Or gift cards.