Here is a bonus video, because, seriously, I do this all day. What else am I supposed to do with them? The Smithsonian already said no.
2. Whipping my hair. I needed a new headshot, so I asked my professional photographer husband to do it (btw, he just started his own business, so please HIRE HIM and keep me in Whatchamacallits and Sauvignon Blancs) and while I was trying to get my hair to stop looking so much like I was 65 and living at high altitudes, he snapped away, and well, MAGIC.
3. STILL trying to decide what infomercial product to buy. No, I haven't forgotten about that promise (OR the promise to eventually devote an entire post to the sweet red jean jacket Jeff got me for my birthday, shut up, you will love it). Judging from the picture above I think I might need to invest in a Flowbee, but I also covet Pajama Jeans and am intrigued and terrified by Sauna Pants. Also, seriously, does anyone want my Shake Weight? I will dust it off, autograph it in sparkle pen (if you don't want MY autograph, which is totally valid, I am happy to sign it as Queen Latifah, or maybe Ross Perot) and ship it to you. You can also have all of my exercise DVDs except, obviously, for the Girls Next Door Workout. If you want an embarrassing list of all of the fat-burning routines I have half-assed for about ten minutes in 2008 before abandoning them forever, email me.