No but seriously. Don’t stand so close to me.

Okay I’m sorry, but does no one remember the Season 1 Glee episode where Mr. Schue learns it’s really dangerous and inappropriate to encourage students’ crushes on him? If not, here’s a little reminder:

I’ve included a version with Spanish subtitles, because producers seem to have also forgotten that Will is a Spanish teacher and at some point during his day needs to actually teach classes.

Anyway. Did Mr. Schue have some sort of memory loss inducing accident during the show’s hiatus? First he performed “Toxic” with the club, which was weird enough. And if memory serves correctly from my high school dance team performance of the same song, “Toxic” dances never really have G-rated motives behind them.

But seriously? Rocky Horror Glee episode? You have crossed a line, and that line is called the point at which Mr. Schue becomes totally and irreversibly creepy. I understand that he only practices with Emma and I’m not complaining about the gratuitous shirtless shots throughout, but he is practicing this song to perform on stage WITH RACHEL. That same girl who showed up in his car backseat singing “Crush,” and not the Mandy Moore song but a stalkier one. PLOT GAP, GLEE. PLOT GAP. That being said, please enjoy some of that gratuitous shirtlessness:

you’re so fine you blow my mind, nutella.

Happy World Nutella Day, everyone! Take a little time today to spread a little chocolate-y, hazelnut-y goodness to the ones you love. Or failing that, spread a little chocolate-y, hazelnut-y goodness on some French Toast, a la the Roomie and me.

Nutella is made from hazelnuts! That’s a protein, probably. Just THINK of all the health benefits.

craigslist musings.

If coffee collars are just given away for free, does Patrick Dempsey still get a dime for each of them?

And no, for the record, I am not comfortable with the fact that this neglected blog now has two Made of Honor themed posts.

i wanna be drew.

When I was in kindergarten, I had this pair of high-top Chucks. They were green on one side and magenta on the other, split right down the middle [No but seriously. They kicked ... pun sort of intended. I've been meaning to shadow-box those babies for years]. Looks like Ms. Barrymore might have owned a pair, too. I would totally rock mismatched Chucks tomorrow in Drew solidarity, if not for the fact that I already had one “Oh dear Lord I think I’m starting to look like Oliver Twist” crisis of fashion today. So maybe next week.

craigslist musings.

So it’s finally happened. With all the shabby chic, what’s old is new, diy, retro-fabulous ironically hip [it's cool because it's not cool] design aesthetics pervading every Anthropologie/Urban Outfitters/twenty-something’s apartment, I have officially lost the ability to judge between ugly and not ugly.

Evidence: I have become obsessed with craigslist. I get that I’m a good couple years behind the curve, but still. Obsessed. I only have two purchases to my credit so far, but I’m on a constant search for a cheap a.)typewriter b.)bicicletta c.)desk chair that doesn’t look like a desk chair and d.)pair or roller skates.

Along the way, I came across this ad. This couch/chair/something combo was selling for somewhere in the neighborhood of $50. I would be lying if I said I didn’t spend at least five minutes trying to figure out if I had a place to put it.

But this is ugly, right? It looks like it belongs on a Brown Line train in the 1970s. In a bad way. OR MAYBE IN A GOOD WAY. I legitimately have no idea if this is horrid or just another example of the wonderful things that craigslist has brought into my life. Help.

things the emmys taught me.

So the Emmy Awards tonight were all about fun facts that the announcer was reading to cut down on boring while the winners walked onstage. I don’t know that I really mind that extra three seconds of applause, but whatever; Kristin Chenoweth wants to be a private detective.

Anyway, the funnest fun fact I learned tonight came not from the announcer, but from the audience pan when Mad Men won. Fred Armisen and Elisabeth Moss [aka ZOEY BARTLET] were sitting together, and a little Internet digging tells me they’re engaged. Fun fact, yes?

In other news, I think I need to start watching Mad Men.

you got spunk.

It’s recently come to my attention that the title of this blog needs a little clarification; for clarification purposes, I present the following clip from the premiere episode of The Mary Tyler Moore Show.

It’s a Mary Tyler Moore quote. Get your mind out of the gutter, people … you know who you are.

And if you actually watched the clip … brandy alexander always gets me into trouble, am I right?

adventures in sitcom-land.

Way back in my days as an undergraduate, I had two majors. Journalism, because I wanted to grow up to be this woman: 

And political science, because I wanted to be this woman too:

Well, my undergraduate days are a thing of the past and I’ve officially entered the real world. And by “entered the real world,” I mean I watch a lot of cancelled television sitcoms. I find myself no closer to deciding what I want to do with my life, but while watching those reruns the other night I had a major breakthrough. And that major breakthrough’s name is John Amos.

See him here, as weatherman Gordy Howard in The Mary Tyler Moore Show:

And here, as Admiral Percy Fitzwallace in The West Wing:

Hello, coincidence. If anyone knows which of these careers I should be working toward, it’s this guy. He’s worked closely (fictionally) with both of these fictional characters upon which I’ve decided to base a loan-inducing college degree. There’s something wrong with that sentence, and I’m not sure it’s just my redundancy. Either way, he should be my go-to guy for career advice.

What I know for sure is, once he stars in a TV show about a woman who owns a wine-and-books store, I’m making a pilgrimage to his home and hiring him as my life coach.

don’t stop bonnie-in’.

The cast of Glee is on the Bonnie Hunt Show tomorrow; Glee premieres tomorrow. Oh how I miss the days when all I’d have to do to spend my afternoons with Bonnie would be to skip an Italian class.

Also, I’m considering starting a petition to convince Bonnie Hunt to tape a week’s worth of episodes in Chicago. If Oprah warrants Michigan Avenue, I figure Mayor Daley would be willing to at least shut down a few blocks of Sheridan Road for everyone’s* favorite wicked-Chicago-accented comedienne.

*my

my date with drew.

I think my head just exploded. Cause: too much awesome in one picture. Minus Anderson’s shoes.

Drew Barrymore just may be turning into Kelly Ripa; you heard it here first.