I Will Never, EVER Use Priceline EVER Again. And Neither Should You.

Priceline put the wrong name on my boyfriend's ticket, then wouldn't admit to their mistake, and also wouldn't refund our money. He missed his flight tonight, ruining our Labor Day weekend. I will never, ever use a third party ticket vendor again.

Step Into My Office.... (sssh! the cats are listening!)

The View from My Living Room Window... Pretty Much Every. Single. Day.

I-Phones: The Next Generation

How I Feel on a Monday Morning...

Birthday Par-TAAAAAY!

Tonight is my belated birthday extravaganza, betches!

I can't wait. I'm having lunch with Katie from the PR department at Penguin today. Then, I'm picking up my birthday cake -- chocolate devil's food with chocolate buttercream icing -- tonight at 7pm.

Between then, I think the man and I will go for a run... if it ever stops raining in Manhattan, that is. Wouldn't you know it, the weekend I come to visit, we're hit by a tropical storm!

Rain, rain, go away -- come again to somebody ELSE'S birthday!!

Hey, You! Stop Fighting With Your Sister!

Me giving Princess Vespa a stern "talking-to" this morning after I found more bite marks on Butters ears...



What's a cat-mommy to do??

xoxo,

Rebel Deb

Why I'm Glad I Don't Have Kids...

My Cats Hate Me.

My new kittens hate me. They must, I believe, to ruin my quiet time like they do.

Their usual routine is to spend all night -- every night -- fighting with each other. I try and work around their constant mewling and bawling. I step over them as they bite and claw at each others' necks. I am awoken to the sound of the pair of them rolling down the hallway, melded together like some gigantic kitty bowling ball. And my bedroom door? Their pins. They crash into it every hour on the hour... all. Night. Long.

And then, after they've torn each other apart into shreds of tired kitty flesh... they do this:





xoxo,

Rebel Deb

Pet Wars, Part I

Ever since Butters and Princess Vespa (yay! I finally decided on their names!) moved into my pad, my poor dog, Jax, has been paying the consequences.

What should I do? Keep the sequestered in separate rooms? Have a doggie "time-out" and a kitty "time-out" chair? I've heard cats usually take leadership role when cohabiting with dogs... I never thought my two-month old kittens would be kicking my two-year old dog's ass.

Ah, a pet-Mommy's work is never done...

xoxo,

Rebel Deb

What Shall I Name My Pussies?

I've recently adopted to new kittens from the pound...



And I'm now searching for names. I've always been a "dog person," you know? Someone who enjoys the friendly, interactive, clingy nature of puppies. Someone who loves having a mute, stick-chewing, ball-catching buddy around. But since my new apartment doesn't allow dogs, I had to settled for cats... and I must say, these two are turning out to be my new best friends.

But what to call them? My list so far:

1) Butters and Princess Vespa (from "South Park" and "Spaceballs," of course)
2) Bubbles and Spot
3) Hairy and Snatch
4) Lord Takealeak and Lady Grabbermuffin
5) Karl and Marx
6) Siegfried and Roy, or...
7) Criss Angel and Mindfreak

What to choose? What to choooooose?

xoxo,

Rebel Deb

Save the Children! Where's Sally Struthers When You Need Her?

Behold! The Power of Aqua Teen Hunger Force - Dumber Dolls

Meatwad: "Frylock, where are the pills?"

Frylock: "Pills! What do you need pills for?"

Meatwad: "Well Happy Time Harry needs 'em. He says that the pills make the phone calls go away."

Aqua Teen Hunger Force - Dumber Dolls

Shared via AddThis

I am Helmet Cat. Make My Day, Punk.

What are Best Friends For? (Apparently, not much.)

My Near-Death Experiences

Time and time again, I seem to almost fall victim to disaster. To almost die. To nearly get flattened by a big, fat rock like Wiley Coyote.

Take for example, how I woke up one winter morning a few months ago prepared to fly from Laguardia to Raleigh, NC, without any problems. Unfortunately, about fifteen minutes after I awoke, I got an emergency call from US Airways. They'd cancelled my flight. Due to "weather."

Yeah, right. When I finally get to Laguardia, I'm rerouted to Charlotte. I have two options for flights: One leaving rightthisminute and one leaving in about an hour. Having just waited the whole morning for my rerouted flight, I take the one leaving rightthisminute.

So, I push through security, run to my gate and just make the flight to Charlotte. Two hours laters and I'm safe and sound in the South...

Only guess what's playing in a nonstop loop on every TV screen nationwide?



A US Airways plane. From Laguardia. To Charlotte. That left, oh, about an hour after the flight that I just made by the skin of my teeth and which was now sitting in the Hudson River.

A few months later, Justin and I are traveling again. We catch a flight from Laguardia to Chicago, only just narrowly avoiding some crazy homeless guy showing up at our exact same gate with a bomb strapped to his chest!



Folks were evacuated and trapped outside Laguardia for HOURS after the guy was arrested. Had we gotten caught up in that mess, we never would've made it to the "Heil Hitler" wedding (see previous post). What a drag!

And it only gets worse -- this time, with boats instead of planes.

Justin planned a romantic surprise for me last weekend to celebrate my upcoming birthday. First, he orders me to dress up (which I happily do!). Then, we hop into a cab and he hands the driver instructions so I can't figure out where we're going (cool, huh?). Then, about twenty minutes later, we arrive (ta da!) at Pier 81, where a HUGE cruise ship is waiting to whisk us around Manhattan.

We have a wonderful night of dinner, dancing and staring up at the Statue of Liberty passing by. I'm elated -- on top of the world -- and I feel like I have the best boyfriend ever. We make it home after more than too many espresso martinis, fall into bed to sleep it all off...

And awake the next morning to find that we were thisclose to a helicopter falling on our heads!




What the hell, people?! Who faces down death/dismemberment this often? I feel like a cat with nine lives who's only got about six left.

xoxo,

Rebel Deb

Joey Heatherton? You Rock.

It's Hard Ta Be A(n Asian) Pimp

Squirrels are Sketchy!

A Southern Hick Goes to Chi-Town

Last weekend, I flew to Chicago for a real down-home Yankee wedding.

On Friday, after 7 hours of flying/waiting/freaking-the-f*ck-out (thanks, Delta Airlines! You rock!), I finally made it O'Hare airport. Then I spent another hour packed into the back of a tiny Honda Accord driving to Naperville, IL.

Surprisingly, the streets of Naperville looked just like those of any town in rural South Carolina -- only with black dirt lining the pavement instead of red clay. Oh, and there were all sorts of "Real Housewives of New Jersey"-looking half-built mansions sitting around in various states of decay because the rich bitches who bought them ran out of money and left them there to rot.

Anywho...

On Saturday, I headed down to the local Presbyterian church, where a huge congregation was assembled for the wedding. It wasn't surprising that, since the bride and groom are religious, that their ceremony would be, too. It was, however, a bit weird when the whole audience was asked to "lift their hands for the usual blessing of the church."

Don't get me wrong -- blessings are great. But this particular blessing involved a particularly strange hand gesture...



No joke, folks. Right there in the middle of being married, the happy couple was "blessed" by a crowd raising its hands in collective "salute" to their future...um...joy.

That, or either I'd mistaken a Nazi rally for a wedding.

Anywho...

On Sunday, I headed over to do some sight-seeing at Navy Pier. It was a fun-filled day of beer, mango daiquiris, pina coladas, crab cake sandwiches and more beer. Oh, and some creepy guy playing with marionettes.



After that and a pound of beer-boiled hot dogs, I took a couple rides on the Ferris Wheel and felt like a true Yankee, born and bred... well, minus the annoying nasal-y accent and pushy personality, that is.



xoxo,

Rebel Deb

Mr. Peanut Loves You. Betch.

The Rebel Deb's Summer Reading List

Some of the Rebel Deb's favorites summertime reads (to go along with a mint julep or nice, tall glass of sweet tea!):

1) Naked" by David Sedaris


















2) "Dry" by Augusten Burroughs
























3) "Thus Spake Zarathustra" by Friedrich Nietzsche (I know, I know... I'm gonna get hate mail for this one. And if I don't, it just means no one's reading great philosophers anymore. So which is worse? Hate mail for me, or the general malaise and intellectual degradation of readers? I'm just not sure.)























4) "The Sweet Potato Queen's Book of Love" by Jill Connor Browne























5) "A Wolf at the Table" by Augusten Burroughs
























6) "Pride and Prejudice and Zombies," by Jane Austen and Seth Grahame-Smith












xoxo,

Rebel Deb

I'm Down for that Good Old-Time Religion

Tonight, I spent over two hours at a gospel sing-along at the New Hope Baptist Church in Burlington, North Carolina.

I'd always believed the stereotype... you know, that African-American churches are the most flamboyant in the South. That they're full of sweaty, fire-n-brimstone preachers hollering out "Amens!" and "Keep on warring! Keep on the battlefield for Christ!" That these places are full of devout, emotional worshippers who tear off their clothes mid-sermon and run screaming down the walkways, stopping only to jump up and down on their pews.

... Well, they aren't the only ones.

Enter the New Hope Baptists. Ordinary, conservative, polite-looking white folks who show up to a Tuesday night gospel singing in seersucker suits, floral printed knee-length dresses and tasteful pearl-handled gloves.

They line up nicely in their pews, families sitting together, friends saying their hellos... it's all quiet, kind, reserved politeness resembling the behavior of their English ancestors...

And then, the music starts.

Two verses into "Over Yonder," followed by "Three Men on the Mountain," and I'm surrounded by sobbing, shaking old ladies blowing snot into their lace handkerchiefs while screaming "Praise Jesus!" and "That's right, brother! You tell that Devil to git back!"

Their husbands waved their hands frantically, mixing the air with aggressive exuberance. One elderly fellow in a blue wool getup with brass buttons and what looked like a pace-maker jumped up from his seat and did a couple laps around the sanctuary, sprinting like a track star. This was the kind of guy you'd see ordering tapioca pudding at the K&W Cafeteria. If I'd seen him walking through the mall, I'd wonder if he'd left his good walker at home. This "old-time religion stuff" sure had its groupies.

Sometimes, I wish I was a hardcore Baptist. Those old white folks sure can dance.

xoxo,

Rebel Deb

Introducing My New Baby, Butters!

As I get older, my maternal instincts get stronger and stronger... and while I'm NOT ready for a human baby in my life, I'm more than ready to bring on the kitties!

Introducing my newest human-baby-replacement, Butters:



She's a stinky kitty, my Butters. Her daily bath consists of a few licks from her mother's mouth and perhaps a quick, accidental dunk into her watering bowl.

When first we met, she was an outdoorsy kinda gal. When I picked her up -- all 20ounces of her -- she clawed at me, tried to run away. She was an adventurer, an explorer. She dared to steal steak bits from the food bowls of other neighborhood cats -- was brave enough even to test the wild dangers of the outside world and travel all the way to the edge of my bedspred before looking over and taking a PLUNGE into the unknown!

But now, she's relaxed her devil-may-care ways. She's become my tame, indoorsy, snuggle-buggle Butters, sleeping happily in my arms and eating her catfood from a spoon.

Ahhhh, motherhood. Tis a wondrous thing.

... And the best part is: She'll never ask to borrow the car.

xoxo,

Rebel Deb

Free Babar!

Remember when going to the circus was a happy, family-oriented event much anticipated by kiddies and adults of all ages?

Well, apparently, the Ringling Bros. have been beating, harassing and torturing their elephants (and probably many other species of animals) for YEARS...

Check out this video. It'll leave all you animal lovers speechless:




Sickening, huh? And I thought Babar the Elephant had it rough, roaming around out there in the two-dimensional jungle of syndicated cartoon TV.

I, for one, will never go to the circus ever again.

xoxo,

Rebel

Send Me Your Rants!

Howdy Ya'll!

I'm currently interviewing both men and women about their personal experiences of sexism, chauvinism, abuse and/or gender bias for a new non-fiction book I'm writing. I'd love to have any input from the Rebel Deb community.

If you're willing to share your story with me, I'd love to hear it! All information will be 100% confidential in every way.

Please contact Anna@RebelDeb.com if you're interested -- thanks!

xoxo,

Rebel Deb

Get the Mob Outta Providence!

Providence, RI, is one of the most dangerous, crime-ridden cities in America. It's full of hoodlums, drugs and mafia hit-men.

Hell, the ex-mayor -- Buddy Cianci -- went to federal prison for breaking the kneecaps of his ex-wife's new boyfriend.

When I went to Brown, everybody knew to avoid parking on the street because the city made a habit of enforcing unwritten parking laws just to reap the impound fines. We also knew to stay on college hill and never venture downtown... lest we find ourselves in the middle of a drive-by or wander into a pizza parlor full of Tony Sopranos.

Unfortunately, even after Buddy went to prison, things didn't change. David Cicilline, the latest mayor of Providence, is a total thug.

I know this because I once worked behind the counter of a drug store at the Biltmore Hotel in downtown Providence during my senior year.

The Mayor would visit often. And every time, he'd bring his band of thug bodyguards with him. They'd stand around, slicking their receding hairlines back with too much hair gel. Then they'd make sexist jokes and call me "little lady" when I didn't laugh.

The Mayor himself looked just like this...



...only minus the girl, because he was gay.

I know what you're thinking: A gay mobster? Go figure.

Anywho.

Given all this sordid history, I wasn't too surprised to learn that good ol' Mayor Cicilline is now trying to extort money from students to pay for his city's scams...

Check out this latest article detailing the utter sketchiness of Providence:

By ERIC TUCKER, Associated Press Writer Eric Tucker, Associated Press Writer

PROVIDENCE, R.I. – The mayor of Providence wants to slap a $150-per-semester tax on the 25,000 full-time students at Brown University and three other private colleges in the city, saying they use resources and should help ease the burden on struggling taxpayers.

Mayor David Cicilline (sis-ah-LEEN-ee) said the fee would raise between $6 million and $8 million a year for the city, which is facing a $17 million deficit.

If enacted, it would apparently be the first time a U.S. city has directly taxed students just for being enrolled.

The proposal is still in its early stages. But it has riled some students, who say it would unfairly saddle them with the city's financial woes and overlook their volunteer work and other contributions, including money spent in restaurants, bars and stores.

"We want to support the city as best we can, but financially is not really what we can afford to give," said Heather Lee, president of the Brown Graduate Student Council. "We're more able to provide labor, we're more able to apply the things that we're learning in the classroom, than we are to write a $300 check."

Cities often look for revenue from universities to compensate for their tax-exempt status, and many schools already make voluntary payments to local governments. Providence's four private schools — Brown, Providence College, Johnson & Wales University and the Rhode Island School of Design — agreed in 2003 to pay the city nearly $50 million over 20 years.

The idea of a student head tax has been floated before in other cities, generally to start discussions about collecting money from universities in lieu of taxes.

But Tony Pals, spokesman for the National Association of Independent Colleges and Universities, said he knows of no city that charges students a direct fee.

"The bottom line is, a tax like this has never gone into effect," Pals said. "The timing is also unfortunate, given the significant amount of budget-cutting that institutions have had to go through because of the recession."

The four schools generate more than $1 billion a year in economic activity, said Daniel Egan, president of the Association of Independent Colleges and Universities of Rhode Island. They employ nearly 9,000 people in a city of roughly 172,000.

"We think the indirect and direct benefit of students within the community would outweigh any costs," Egan said.

Cicilline's office said there is no study showing how much students cost Providence for the use of police and fire protection and other services. The city points out that the private schools' property, valued at more than $1.7 billion, is tax-exempt.

Many college students are already involved in tutoring, arts education and mentoring for public school students. Providence College, for instance, offers student volunteers to staff after-school programs, and Brown is raising money for a $10 million endowment to help the city school system.

Even so, Cicilline said everyone should be expected to help the city through this economic crisis. He said he wants students to have a vested interest in their city instead of seeing themselves as visitors just passing through.

"It's really about a shared commitment to the well-being of your community that you're a part of," the mayor said. "Everyone should be doing their part and coming to the table."

Students at Rhode Island College, a state school in the city, and the Providence campus of the University of Rhode Island would be exempt.

A city head tax on students would need approval from both the City Council and state lawmakers. However, a similar measure failed in the state Legislature in 2005, and Rhode Island's colleges are likely to fight this proposal, too.

Josephine Nash, a Brown junior from New York City, said the idea seems reasonable, provided it doesn't overly burden students on financial aid. "I do spend the majority of my year here, and I do use the services of the city," she said.

But Susette Holman, a Johnson & Wales freshman also from New York, said her mother works seven days a week, sometimes 14 hours a day, to put her through school. "I have three sisters at home, so how's she going to be able to provide an extra tuition fee?" she asked.

University administrators also object, saying students and their families spend years saving for college and shouldn't have to bear more costs. Tuition at Brown costs nearly $40,000 a year, with about 40 percent of undergraduates receiving financial aid.

"Given at least the rhetoric of trying to retain students, be a place that's attractive to students and young people shortly after college, it just seemed counterintuitive to at least the students I talked to," said Richard Spies, Brown's executive vice president for planning."

xoxo,

Rebel Deb

And This Month's "F-Bomb!" Goes To...

xoxo,

Rebel Deb

And Today's "Crazy-Eye Award" Goes To...

Xo,

Rebel Deb

It's Hard to be a Fame-Hog

Ewww.... scary!

Some of ya'll already know that I once worked for Jill Zarin from "The Real Housewives of New York," and if you didn't, you can read all about it in my upcoming memoir -- "Confessions of a Rebel Debutante" --hitting bookstores next spring.

In the meantime, let me just say that these ladies are far from ladies. And like Jill, Countess LuAnn de Lesseps is quite the former trophy-wife-turned-fame-hog:



"Splitting from the Count hasn't been easy, Countess LuAnn de Lesseps tells Usmagazine.com.

"Its been really difficult for me," The Real Housewives of New York City star told Us at a Whole Foods event in NYC Monday. "I just need time."


The New York Post first reported that LuAnn separated from her husband, Count Alex de Lesseps, after she learned that he met another woman in Europe. The two -- who just celebrated their 16th anniversary on March 16 -- have two children, Victoria and Noel.

Check out the most unforgettable splits of 2008

"We are going to be friends, and we're going to do the best thing for our kids," the Countess told Us.

And, yes, she is keeping her Countess title.

"Absolutely, darling!" she told Us. "I'll always be the Countess!"

Need I say more? I think LuAnn, like some of her "marry a guy twice my age for money and then act surprised when he trades me in for a newer model" friends, speaks for herself.

xoxo,

Rebel Deb

Thanks to All the Lovely Green-Vegas Ladies!

My reading at Coffee to a Tea totally ROCKED. Mostly because of the lovely Sara Fraser, Aubrey Stevenson, and all their Rebel Deb ladies from Greenville, South Carolina.

Here are some pics from the event. Check out Rebel Deb Sara itchin' with excitement!





Thanks so much to everyone who came by! See ya'll soon, at another boutique/coffee shop/bookstore near you!

xoxo,

Rebel Deb

First Friday Fun!

from ArtandLightGallery.blogspot.com

As Promised -- New News from the District



Coffee to a Tea located in the old Tucker's Soda Shop building



OK everyone - First Fridayis just around the corner and I am tickled pink over it. We've got so much excitement in the air and I'm ready to share.

First of all, we have a brand new coffee, tea, dessert and sandwich shop in the neighborhood -- Coffee to a Tea. And it's not a minute too soon. We have dreamed of hot coffee and hot cookies for almost two years now in the PSAD (Pendleton Street Arts District).

Coffee to a Tea's doors flew open last week and I have to tell you - the pimento cheese sandwich on fresh baked sun dried tomato bread is heaven!

The official GRAND OPENING will be held this Friday, April 3 with a booking signing event. Join Dawn, Audrey and Kara as they welcome Anna Fields, author of Confessions of a Rebel Debutante. Anna has a planned reading and will be autograhing her books all night long.



Step on out for First Friday and stroll on down to Coffee to a Tea on Lois Street - just around the corner from Village Studios and Gallery.

xoxo,

Rebel Deb

Come Check Me Out! The Rebel Deb Will Be Appearing at the Sandpiper in Atlanta -- this THURSDAY!

Xoxo,

Rebel Deb

This Week's Celeb Rebel Deb? Winnie Cooper!

If you were a boy growing up in the late '80s or early '90s, odds are you had a crush on Danica McKellar. She played Winnie Cooper, the object of Fred Savage's obsession on "The Wonder Years." The nostalgia-fueled sitcom has been off the air since '93, but Ms. McKeller still has legions of fans. Today, most of them are heartbroken. Their fair Winnie is officially off the market.

Yep, this past weekend, Danica got married. The nuptials caused a huge surge in Search. Men pushed queries on "danica mckellar married" and "winnie cooper married" through the roof. McKellar, who is now an author and mathematician, also saw queries rise on her famed photo spread for Stuff Magazine. Searches on the groom, composer Mike Verta, also hit a high note. Not surprisingly, the majority of Danica's lookups came from male Gen-Xers.

But it wasn't just the bride who saw a boon in Search. The maid of honor got some love as well. Danica's sister, Crystal McKellar, was in the wedding party. Crystal is best known for playing Kevin's ex-girlfriend turned archrival, Becky Slater. She memorably punched Kevin in the stomach after he broke up with her. Fans of the show haven't forgotten about the oft-spurned Becky. After news of the wedding hit, queries surged on "crystal mckellar photos."

According to E! Online, Mr. Savage (now a director of dubious talents) didn't attend the wedding, but his TV parents, Dan Lauria and Alley Mills, were there. No word on Josh Saviano, who played Kevin's best friend, Paul Pfeiffer. Regardless, queries surged on the Pfeif. Also spiking: the popular urban legend that states that Mr. Saviano and shock-rocker Marilyn Manson are actually one and the same. They're not, but the truth is a lot scarier: Saviano is now a lawyer.


xoxo,

Rebel Deb

Maybe We DID Start the Fire....?

Yesterday, my apartment building caught on fire.

I shit you not, my friends.

At about 2pm, I’m sitting quietly at my desk – happily enjoying a rerun of “Working Girl” on AMC and scratching my puppy, Jax’s, belly – when BAM! BAM! BAM!

I hear something loud and slick and rubbery fall outside my window.

At first, I thought it was construction outside. Or maybe a cab driver had blown his tire. Could be anything – this is New York, after all, and things get pretty noisy around here.

Only then, I heard the running. Footsteps outside my door – running up and down the stairwell. Then shouting. And then finally…

I smelled the smoke.

I finally looked outside, and there they were: THREE full-sized fire trucks, right outside my window! And debris falling down from above, bouncing off the walls and landing on the fire escape.

I felt like Chicken Little – the sky was falling!

I wasn’t sure what to do… I’d never been caught in a fire before… and so I did whatever seemed sensible at the time:

I PANICKED!

Then, after a brief freak-out, I grabbed Jax, my beloved computer, and a coat and threw open my apartment door…

Only to find the doorway – and the entire stairwell – covered in long black firemen’s hose!

Jax was immediately on guard. The hose was moving and pulsating with water, which made him bark and growl. He was just as freaked as I – now trapped inside our apartment by the huge hose. Finally, I crawled under a kink in the rubber and forced him to follow me. We ran down the flights of stairs, then finally out the door…

Where a huge crowd of on-lookers were staring, taking pictures… and some, even crying.

It was rainy and cold outside, and I felt lucky to be alive. That’s when I finally saw the fireman and cops.

I went up to one of them and demanded, “Why wasn’t the building evacuated?!”

“It was.”

“Um, I live on the second floor, and I only got out because I took it upon myself to get out.” I said. Then the Cop just sortof shrugged his shoulders and walked away.

Then, a fireman came up to me and asked him the same question – why didn’t anyone evacuate the building?

“Why should we?” he answered. “People self-evacuate.”

O.MI.GAWD.

I almost laughed!

“What if I were a seven-year-old child? Or a dog? Do you think I would’ve known to self-evacuate?”

“Oh, “ he said. “That’s true.”

DUH squared?

The NYFD has got to be the most inept in the world. And the NYPD isn’t much better.
Moral of my story: Don’t get caught in a fire. And whatever you do – don’t expect the fire department to save you!

Xoxo,

Rebel Deb

The Crazies are Everywhere!

Two days ago, on my flight from New York back to North Carolina, I was sitting on the tarmac in seat 11F. For two whole hours. Minding my business, like any good frustrated frequent-flyer. Good thing I'd also packed an egg-salad sandwich and some organic green tea to ride me over. But as soon as I took them out and started to lunch...

There they were: The Crazy Couple in seats 11A and C.

Every five minutes, the Wife would pull out her cell phone and push speed dial. Inevitably, the same "I'm not here, can you please leave a message..." recording would come on. (I know this because they had the volume turned up so loud that EVERYONE could hear it.) Then, she would pass the phone to her Husband, who'd sing the same inaudible, random song into the phone -- full of nonsensical words from no language I'm familiar with. A few seconds later, he would hang up the phone.... only to start the whole process over again in another five minutes.

Were these two stalking somebody? Were they singing a lullaby to some newborn childchild? If so, it wasn't a song I'd ever heard -- and it didn't even have any kind of soothing rythym. It just sort of started and stopped with no ryhme or reason.

The next day was even crazier.

At about noon, I check my email to find some rambling, intense email from a girl (I'll call her "Big Nose"), whom I barely knew back in college.

Big Nose was once pretty famous around Phi Kappa Psi fraternity. Back then, she and I once dated the same guy (at different times), and I only knew her through all the jealous, nasty rumors she spread about me.

Long story short, about a year or so ago, I saw her picture on a mutual friend's Facebook page and befriended her, simply to be nice... to be the "bigger person," as it were.

She accepted my request, but I never contacted her. I just left it as my polite attempt to be civil to a former evil slut.

Sounds simple enough, right? After all, it's just Facebook. No need to freak out and get all crazy, right?

WRONG.

Apparently, a full year after I Facebook-friend her, Big Nose decides to go crazy and email me a two-page testimonial, describing how much she's now "let go of the past," and how she "doesn't care" about how we'd once dated the same guy (though, back then, she was so jealous that she started calling me "Shiksa Barbie").

Her email-tome went on and on about how "over the past" she was now... and how she remembered very little of college -- "only a few amusing stores," she said. Which, I'm sure, is true -- considering she was probably post-coital for most of it.

Also, given that the reason why my ex broke up with her (according to him) was because she slept with his entire fraternity... and given her supposed habit of making "sex pacts" with guys (like another college boyfriend of mine, whom she made promise to sleep with her before we all graduated. This never happened, but still... tre gross, no?)...

Considering all the things she's "forgotten" about college, I'm sure "amusing stories" are probably the least of Big Nose's worries.

And, of course, emailing me all her random, blathering feelings at 1:30 AM clearly demonstrates how "over" the past she now is.

What's going on? Why are all the crazies coming out lately? Is it just me, or is the economy turning up the crazy in normally sane (or maybe just slightly strange) folks?

xoxo,

Rebel Deb

Doggies Say the Darndest Things

I haz a puppy. His named is Jackson Smith. My boyfriend and I call him "Jax," for short.

Jax is about 1.5 years old, fully black, with a wet, healthy nose, big, floppy paws...

And a HUGE appetite. No joke, our little man weighs about 75 lbs!

This is mostly my fault, I think. I'm an indulgent doggie-mommy. I over-treat. He looks at me? I give him a Milkbone. He whines cause he's bored? I share my chicken cutlet.

Every time, his eyes say the same thing...

"Mom, you're totally boring. And you're making me fat. The other dogs laugh at me, the fat kid, whenever we go to the park."

Plus, I'm writing full-time, so I spend most days locked behind my desk. As a result, Jax, needless to say, gets restless and starts chewing things up out of boredom. When this gets old, he eats to entertain himself. And since we live in the East Village of Manhattan, we don't exactly have backyard he can play in. As a trade-off, I take breaks from working to cuddle with him on the couch, and I often send him to play at Happy Paws, the local doggie center, for a few hours each week, and Justin and I take him to the dog park at Tompkins Sqaure most nights...

But this just isn't enough exercise to counter-balance his huge puppy hunger.

If only my gym had doggie treadmills! Then we'd BOTH get a well-needed workout.

Am I a selfish, overly indulgent pet-owner, or do we just need to move to suburbs and get a yard? Only time will tell.

xoxo,

Rebel Deb

Thanks for Coming, Betches!

Hey Ya'll!

Thanks so much for attending my latest Rebel Deb events -- both this past January at the LaMaMa Theatre and last night at PINK in Richmond! I SO appreciate your support!

Please contact me any time re: Rebel Debutante shows, merchandise, new up-and-coming clothing and gifts, book signings, or to join the Rebel Debutantes Facebook group.

Also, via the links below, you can check out my blog and sign up for my bi-weekly Rebel Deb Diary with updates on all upcoming readings, coupons off all merchandise, and a link to pre-order a SIGNED COPY of my book!

In the meantime -- would love to see you at another Rebel Deb event:

Thursday March 26- Sandpiper, Atlanta GA
Pre-release reading
6 pm

Thursday April 2- Gwynn's, Mt. Pleasant SC
Pre-release reading with Skirt! Magazine
6 pm

Friday April 3- Coffee to a Tea, Greenville SC
Pre-release reading
6 pm

And until then:

Stay Rebel, stay Deb -- but always stay true to yourself!

xoxo,

Anna

the Original Rebel Debutante

Beware the "Fake Girl"

There's always that one girl. Or, truly, many of them, that make me want to cringe and cry and crawl out of my skin.

And why?

Because they are undeniably, categorically FAKE.

Tonight, for instance, as I was coming out of NYU, this girl -- I'll call her, appropriately, "FG" (Fake Girl), comes up to me on the street and starts randomly asking me all sorts of polite, "friendly" questions: How are you, Anna? How've you been? I think your outline for that Grey's script is getting SOOOO much stronger!"

Meanwhile, she's been completely rude to me in every single notes session I've ever had, written mean, derrogatory things all over my scripts, and even when I tried to make peace (though I'm not exactly sure why she hates my guts) by sending her a conciliatory Facebook friend request, she denied it... twice.

Clearly, FG hates me. She's made this obvious for over a year now.

And why? I'm no so sure. My only guess is that, since she's one of those chubby brunettes from the South who grew up hating her home state, and all the blonde, blue-eyed cheerleader-types in it, she now hates me simply because I, too, am blonde, blue-eyed and Southern. Except I wasn't a cheerleader. Far from it, in fact. Yet, I'm now being the subject of fat-assed FG's rage.

Anywho...

When she started insisting on how much she now "loves" my work, and then tried to give me a HUG (of all things) at the end of our bizarro conversation... most of which involved her bullshit apologies for her bad attitude and my completely shocked responses, "Oh, well, okay, um... thanks for apologizing?"... I left the whole thing wanting to take a shower as soon as I got home.

Ugh. Why can't people just be honest with each other?

What I REALLY wanted to say was, "Thanks for whatever you're trying to say, I guess, but honestly, I don't believe you're really all that sorry for being an asshole to me. I mean, if you were me, would you believe yourself? Really? I don't think so. So, yeah, could you please stop wasting both of our time and just, ya know, go away and stop tormenting me with pettiness? Yeah. Thanks a bunch."

Moral of the story: FG's suck. And it sucks when you're so shocked by their random attempts at "sincerity" that you can't think of a witty response until a full five minutes AFTER they've slunk back under the rocks from wence they came!

xo,

Rebel Deb