• Reasons you’re bloated

• Remember valley girls?

• 10 fashion lessons from horror movies

• Who are you calling crazy cat lady

• Moonwalk your way through Walmart (video)

• Would you wear this?

You ever have a question so embarassing you weren’t sure who to ask?

You could ask your friends, but they’d laugh at you…and then copy and paste that sh*t into an email to everyone you know.
You could go to your parents, but they’d probably judge you…and then copy and paste that sh*t into an email to everyone you know.
You could turn to your BF, but he’d probably just dump you.

So where do you go? Apparently, Yahoo Answers. These people have nothing else to do but answer life’s toughest questions. Questions like this one:

What should you do? Hm, sitting down and turning to the internet sounds like a good idea, or,  I don’t know, try a bit of this sage advice:

Dear PMS:

Why?
Just why?

Who do you think you are? I mean really. You come around once a month like that annoying friend you don’t really want to hear from, yet every month, without fail, she asks you for plans and you feel sort of obligated. So you give in, but then coffee turns into an all day shopping ordeal and by the end you want to tear your hair out because now not only did you learn that you can’t stand the person you are with, but  – bonus lesson! – you learned that eating cookies DOES in fact equal having to buy a size up in your jeans.

Well that’s how I feel with you. Only instead of a day, it’s 5 and the only person I can’t stand to be around is myself. (The part of the too-tight jeans rings true thanks to you making me feel the urge to eat a bag of something salty, which of course leads me to want something sweet, which then of course leads me to want a tuna sandwich. I know! I don’t get it either!)

You make me weepy. I cry at Disney commercials (true story) and when the cheesy music comes on as the lesson is learned at the end of Full House. Strike that – you make me actually want to watch Full House.

You make my boobs hurt so much that I have to wear two sports bras to workout…and one to sleep. I can’t even put a shirt on without wincing in pain; forget sleeping on my stomach. Or, I don’t know, letting a boy anywhere near them.

You make my skin revert back to its 13 year old ways. Do you remember what its like to be 13, PMS? Do you? I don’t think you do, because if you did then you would vividly remember the time that cute boy Josh Schwartz asked me why Mount Everest decide to relocate to my face because, in his opinion, Mt. Everest was doing just fine where it was and that I should be in an advertisement for Clearasil. That would be reason enough to never ever give me a pimple again. But noooo – even in my young adult life, every month you feel the need to sprout a pimple right in the center of my face. And not just any pimple – you prefer the special giant kind that starts from underneath and is more painful than any period cramp in the history of cramps.  (Don’t even get me started on those.)

You make me moody – probabaly because I look like sh*t and my pants don’t button – but either way I’m a total bitch to the rest of the world. And the worst part is: I realize I’m doing it. Inside my head I say, “Jill stop being such a moody bitch,” but then word vomit – the bitch version – takes over and everything mean and insensitive and downright bitchy just comes out.

I mean, I get it – they (my mother) say you are really a gift because not only do I know for sure that I’m not popping one out in 9 months, but you are also preparing me for childbirth. That the cramps are really a blessing because they are preparing me for contractions. That I should embrace mother nature and say “No means NO” to Advil and instead say “Hollerrrr!” to an amazing experience that will one day be a baby’s head coming out of my Vagina.

But I. don’t. care. I saw Knocked Up and I am already in therapy for it, so give me a freaking break. Much like the annoying drunk, the needy girl and the chick who always ditches her friends for her boyfriend, you are one friend I can definitely do without.

That is all.

No love,
Jill

I don’t know about you gals, but there’s something about shopping that always puts me in a better mood when I’m down in the dumps.  This is especially true when I’m PMSing–buying myself new, pretty and sparkly things makes me feel so much better about myself (even if trying things on over my bloated ass does not).  Now there’s proof that there may actually be a biological reason for why shopping makes us so happy.

A new study says that women are more likely to go on a shopping spree about 10 days before their period, on which they actually tend to spend more than usual and are more inclined towards making impulse purchases. (Editor’s Note: that explains the Snuggie….) GREAT — as if we needed yet another way PMS ruins our lives.

The psychologists who conducted the survey had two theories as to why this is the case.  First, they believe that women shop right before getting their periods in order to counteract the negative emotions they feel during that time (like feeling stressed out or depressed). Um, duh!

The other theory is that since this is time in a woman’s cycle that she’s ovulating, women buy things to make themselves more attractive, such as makeup or high heels. Tru dat.

While it may be tempting to use the “But I had PMS!” excuse when explaining the credit card bills to mom and dad, resist the urge. The study also revealed that most purchases made during this time were followed by serious buyer’s remorse. Your best bet is to wait out the PMS in bed with a bucket of cookie dough instead of at the mall; an empty bank account (and a freaking Snuggie) is no way to beat those pre-menstrual blues.

Medically when the body is deprived of protein it becomes bloated, almost fat due to retention of water. As we see in photos form starving third world countries it is a common occurrence when the body suffers from a deficiency or lack of proper nutrition. But this is a Hollywood famine, starving in the finest of all restaurants while stowing a pharmacy away in your Balenciaga. In a world where every 3.6 seconds someone dies of hunger, we worship a culture of excess, fast food, binges and purges. Some children would even call Richie their idol; magazines promote her look as improved then attack her for being too skinny days later. Although anorexia is a disease it seems somehow unfair that the entire world is starving while America is on a crash diet.

In the fall of 2003 Nicole was arrested for Heroin possession and was sentenced to rehab. She claims that she has always been thin but gained weight while in the facility which would explain her appearance on The Simple Life shortly after. Over a period of three years Richie went from a healthy girl to a woman in the body of a child at 5’2’’ weighting just under 90lbs.

It was just a year ago that a 22 year old Brazilian model died on the runway, the horrific image of her collapse was a wake up call to the entertainment industry, what we consider fashionable could actually be a surefire death wish. Images of Nicole Richie running on the beach in a tiny blue bikini made the cover of magazines around the world, her bones poking through her hanging skin, it was so alarming people believed it to be photoshopped, contrived, and unreal. While some anorexics hide behind baggy clothes Nicole stripped down for photo ops, was this just a fashion statement, or a blatant cry for help?

Richie’s charismatic personality and undisputable humor made The Simple Life a hit show, distracting us from the conversational void of Paris Hilton, Nicole was more than just a sidekick she was in fact the entertainment. With the media monitoring her weight gains and losses it can’t be easy to maintain a healthy body image, it’s hard enough just flipping through the pages much less seeing yourself beside the unflattering blurbs.

The world can exhale, Paris Hilton is free. But it is Richie who will be up at bat next to battle her very own DUI case and may be the next to inhabit Paris’ old Lynwood stomping grounds. She will be battling her December arrest in which she was found driving the wrong way on an LA freeway in her 2005 Mercedes, volunteering information to officers Nicole confessed that she had taken vicodin and smoked marijuana leaving her disoriented before the incident. A dangerous and life threatening move, much worse in my opinion than Paris Hilton driving the correct way down Sunset after a few drinks, only time will tell if Nicole will also be made into an example like her pal. If her an boyfriend Joel Madden truly are expecting will her unborn child also serve as her get out of jail free card?

This season’s The Simple Life received little promotion. With Paris behind bars and Nicole awaiting trial it seems that even bad press is good press if you are a Hollywood socialite. If reports are true one can only hope that Nicole, pregnant or not will finally learn take care of herself not only for her child’s sake but for her own. Keep your fingers crossed and look forward to the plethora of future reality show possibilities; just think “The Simple Life: Motherhood”.