
At least…
At least there aren’t any crumbs in my bra.
At least I have my two front teeth.
At least when my husky tabby sits on my bladder at 3 in the morning he only weighs 18 pounds and not 28.
At least I still have my sanity.
At least I can still do the Running Man.
At least I’m not infected with an as-yet unidentified pig/bat hybrid super virus (still freaked out after watching Contagion!).
At least I’m getting four hours of sleep; that’s better than not getting any sleep at all.
At least my muffin top would sustain me for a while if I ever found myself stranded on a desert island without food.
At least I’m not wearing stretchy pants 24/7 (at least, not yet).
At least I don’t have a Comic Sans tattoo.
At least I’ve never been in a hot tub on a reality TV show.
At least I have super agile toes (great for pinching people and for picking up pencils off the floor).
At least I’ve seen a sunset in Spain.
At least I have an inside voice, unlike Fat Man Scoop.
At least I can still drop it like it’s tepid (and sometimes lukewarm).
At least I no longer live with a roommate who absolutely refuses to change the toilet paper.
At least the new limited edition Les Jeans de Chanel Nail Colours ($29 each, available now), unlike the Joe’s Jeans I bought in 2004, will always fit.















One of these days I’m gonna start a bumper sticker line for beauty addicts. You’ll find it at Sephora in one of those wire kiosk things that twirl, and the stickers will say things like, “I’m lost without Shu,” and “I’m a ho for hand cream.” 



