Besides Gwen's over usage of agave syrup or nectar or whateverthehellitscalled I actually liked her. I've seen her on Oprah. She seemed pretty cool. Amusing even. I didn't understand why (a lot) of other people didn't.
Okay. So that cupping thing was a little alarming.
|Odd. And a lot unattractive. |
Gwyneth my dear...what were you thinking?!
Oh and that crazy awful diet she did where all you eat is grass, barley and dandelions and heinous untasteful things like that? I wouldn't last 5 minutes on that. And neither would my marriage. It's just not healthy to be that healthy you know what I mean?
I found myself flipping through the latest In Style magazine, in sweet sweet peace, away from my darling little spawns at the lovely lady's home that does my hair once a year or so and since I quite like G.P. (as only Mario Batali and I refer to her of-course) and since I only question some of her decisions (like naming her daughter after a fruit and her son Moses...then again I'm named after a month so who am I to judge...though technically - not my fault) I stopped flipping to read an interview with her.
There I was enjoying being able to read an entire magazine article without having to referee my children, cook dinner and let the dog out because she's barking, when she had to pause the interview (according to the article) to attend to her daughter. She returned back and said these words, "She's cross because I only let them watch TV in French or Spanish," Paltrow said of her daughter Apple "When I'm in France, I go to [Boulevard] Beaumarchais and buy all their cartoons."
My eyes rolled so far back in my head that it actually pained me. I totally judged her on those two extremely hoity toity sentences.
You know where I go for my boys cartoons?
The PBS channel.
And then I got really sad.
Because all my dreams of her and I sipping on a chilled glass of white wine while enjoying her fried zucchini pasta (which is quite delicious btw) with our adorable little ones frolicking around her palatial home in England went whooooosh out my sticky finger printed back patio door. Clearly learning Spanish from Dora and Diego is not sophisticated enough for my former BFF, Gwen. Though I'll have you know my boys fluently speak the basics.
Hola, abuela, arriba, gracias and amigos.
And they can count to three in Spanish too. I mean, come on now. That's pretty awesome.
So sadly, I must bid our fake friendship adieu because Gwyneth, though you may be a very nice person, you are just too good for us. And that's really too bad. You really are missing out on what could be a most fulfilling, fun, down to earth friendship.
I'm kind of a big deal too you know.
At least my kids believe that anyway.