Rantsy Pants

  I know this blog is supposed to be all about Yoga and living a balanced life and whatnot, but today I just got a little bee in my bonnet.  I have a little rant going on, and my 120 characters on Twitter and 2-liner status updates just don't provide enough room for me to explain myself properly.  I decided to take advantage of my blog to vent.  I suppose I could rationalize that since I usually try to be calm, quiet, and advocate some peace, if I rant on here now and again, it technically is "balancing" things out. Plus, the subject of my rant does Yoga, so technically, she's relevant.  By the way, if I'm not ranting enough for you (and you may want to reserve judgement on that until you finish reading this post), you can always head over to my husband's blog, where he certainly rants enough for 3 blogs:  This Annoys Me

So, this morning, Husband wakes up and cracks open the iPad (which I received as an awesomely unexpected, absolutely delightful Mother's Day gift way back in May...however, the boys in my life seem to take advantage of its magic far more often than I do...don't get me started, or this blog may need to be re-titled "This Annoys Me in the Suburbs" - although I'm fairly certain that blog already exists.)  I digress....

So, my husband starts browsing IMDB for upcoming theatrical releases and points out a bunch of flicks he thinks I'll be keen on seeing.  Number one on the list:  Sherlock Holmes, part2 (Uhm, helloooo?  Jude Law?  Robert Downey Jr.?  As you can see, Husband should have been a brain surgeon with his overwhelming amounts of genius).  Number two:  Hugo (again with Jude Law).  Then, he mentions "Contagion", which has Marion Cotillard.  I'll see anything with Marion Cotillard in it.  She's like my biggest girl-crush ever...not because I want to get with her.  It's because I want to BE her.  Jude Law is also in this one.  Gosh this guy has been busy since that whole Nanny scandal.  I guess he has loads of free time these days.  Then husband says "Oh, but it has Gwyneth Paltrow in it."  The Marion factor far outweighs any negative impact that the Gwyneth factor brings, but it set me off.  I'm sooooooo annoyed by Gwyneth Paltrow.  And it takes a lot to get me that annoyed.

So what, you ask, could this amazing, tow-headed, Jill-of-all-Trades have done to send me into a rant?  She acts (Oscar winner, there, folks!).  She does Yoga (just look at those long limbs!).  She has no crow's feet (a recent tabloid article claims she's had botox to eliminate them, however, I'm calling false on that one, because she's my age, and I don't have crow's feet either, and I certainly don't have $300 at my disposal to inject Botulism TOXIN into my face.  She must be lucky enough to have fabulous outer-ocular skin, just like me.)  She blogs (hey, maybe I should be looking up to her instead of dissing her!).  She sings (ahem).  She's written a fucking cookbook. 

I'm sure several hundred people have already seen the irony in this (and blogged about it).  Gwyneth Paltrow, she of the "raw foods", "macro-biotic", "I cleanse for 2 weeks before every movie shoot" diet has written a cookbook. 
W.
T.
F.

The first recipe is for some secret family recipe for these amazing buttermilk pancakes her dad made every Sunday morning.  I know this not because I bought the damn thing, but because there was a magazine article highlighting Gwyneth's latest triumph in publishing this damn cookbook.  Yes, I just used "damn" twice in one sentence.  The whole concept of her writing a cookbook is about as preposterous as that food tour she took around Spain with Mario Batali a year or two back.  Laughable.  He of the robust waistline and love of olive oil, travelling with she of the "how long do I have to run on the treadmill if I eat one of your marinated olives?"

Should I waste even one more sentence on this chick?  Probably not.