under the shade of a coolibah tree

Lots of times when I read Lucky or similar, anything that talks about what various pieces of a celebrity's (or "public figure," as Jodie Foster would more tastefully put it) outfit cost, I feel a little bit nauseated and think "How can they spend that much money on clothes?"  It makes me feel morally superior, because I can't imagine being able to sleep at night knowing that the food bank has empty shelves while I go out clubbing in my thousand-dollar pants.  But if I look down into my heart of hearts, I know that if I had the funding, I would find a way to dispose of it pretty quickly and pretty selfishly.  So many shoes and purses and foodstuffs.  I have eaten almost all of the mukhwas that Tipsy brought me from India, and I can assure you that I could drop a cool hundred on that stuff tomorrow.  It is the best I have ever had, so soft and chewy and flavorful, with little nonpareils in it, and you know I am a sucker for nonpareils.  So we learn that I am not better than other people.  

I hope we finally get to see The Hobbit this weekend.  Both Grant and Emmett have read the book in preparation, but we've been so busy that we haven't had a chance to see it yet.  I will probably need a Stadium Pal for it--excuse me, I mean a Stadium Gal.  Three hours!  So self-indulgent.  

Have we decided, as Americans, that we don't hate Gwyneth Paltrow as much as we used to?  I don't, but I think it's just because I don't hear about her as much as I used to.  

We are having short ribs for dinner, and I am looking forward to it immensely.