Most of us have been there.  You date somebody, convinced he is sparkles and rainbows and puppies…and then you eventually come face to face with the monstrous truth.  He’s–gasp!–human!  Life is more complex than black and white, so sometimes good people can do bad things, including the biggest, baddest relationship transgression of all: infidelity.  This article lays out the signs to look for, some of which would be laughably obvious–except that people have a tendancy to conveniently ignore what they don’t want to see.  (You mean, my boyfriend who oozes smarmy charm, has a bunch of douchebag friends and cheated his way through business school might not be the world’s greatest mate?  Well, golly gee!)

Dating 101: Will Your Guy Cheat On You? (Yahoo)

Dear Britney,
I know that Ted Casablanca says you are still off the rails, but I love you anyway.

Plus, your abs look great and you’re so pretty when you smile and look happy.

Kisses,
Jolie

Britney’s first Rolling Stone cover, in 1999

Britney in 2000

Britney’s September 13, 2001 Rolling Stone cover

Britney in December 2001

Britney in 2003

Well, the braces are on, and it’s hardly a picnic, but I think I’ll survive.  To be fair, since they’re clear and only on my bottom teeth, they’re barely visible.  Eating with them, however…not so fun.  (And definitely not a date-approved activity.)  I’m grinding and clenching my teeth less, which has led to fewer headaches–the very reason I bit the metal bullet in the first place!  Unfortunately, my weirdo lisp has become much more pronounced…at least, I think so.  My friends say I’m overly sensitive and being crazy (you say I’m crazy?  I got your crazy!).

I posted a video on YouTube, but it cuts out after only a few seconds for some bizarre reason.  Me = not so technologically advanced.

Way back in 2001, when I was the grooming and fashion assistant at men’s magazine FHM, we put two young, blonde social climbers on the cover.  They were primarily known for their obvious desire to be famous, which meant they’d attend any party that would have them (or featured a red carpet) and frequently landed on Page Six for their bad-girl hijinx.  Why are we helping this trash to become famous? I’d thought grumpily, taking consolation in the fact that, surely, they’d fade into oblivion just as quickly as they appeared.

Their names?  Paris and Nicky Hilton.

Over the years, I’ve tried to ignore Paris Hilton–The Socialite Who Shall Not Be Named–hoping she’ll go away, but I think it’s obvious as this point that that’s just not happening.  Last week, I went over to the dark side: based on a hilarious review on Jezebel, and against my better judgment, I watched Paris Hilton’s My New BFF…and felt ashamed of myself for completely loving it.  The very concept of reality TV usually makes me want to gouge my eyes out, but much as I’ve had to come to grips with the fact that Paris, for better or for worse, is an icon now (each generation really does get the idols it deserves, huh?), I’m beginning to make peace with the fact that the collective we is strangely fascinated by reflections of ourselves on screen.  (You know, ourselves…just louder, more obnoxious, less shame, tighter vocal cords, more promiscuous, lighter feet, skinnier, blessed with a uterus that incubated six kids simultaneously…whatever.  Pick your poison.)

Who says you need talent to be famous?  Not America in the oughts, that’s for damn sure.

Look ma, (almost) no airbrushing!  Britney, we welcome you back with open arms.

Because it’s Friday evening and this is all my brain can handle.  Off to see Twilight (mouth full of metal)…

Jolie is getting braces today.  For reals, y’all.  I spent what felt like my entire childhood at the orthodontist, tortured by an overbite and crowded jaw, which turned into an endless humiliation parade of teeth pulling, headgears, neckgears (hella sexy during the oh-so-crucial tween years) and, finally, braces.  After I had my braces removed, my dentist fitted my bottom teeth with a permanent retainer, which I impetuously removed in college.  Worst…decision…ever.  For the past five years, my bottom teeth have been zooming out of place with lightening speed, leading to chronic headaches–not to mention an “adorable” Kirsten Dunst-like snaggletooth situation.  Honestly, I don’t care about the aesthetics; I just want the pain to stop.  (Dear, lord!  Make it stop!)

Soooo, that brings me to today and my clear braces on the bottom teeth.  Apparently, Invisalign costs ten billion dollars and sometimes must be followed by traditional braces anyway, so I’m cutting to the quick and just getting the damn thing over with.

*Buries head in hands*  I’m sure it’s going to make dating positively delightful.

Beauty advances have been speeding along these past few years, to the point where it seems that there’s no problem too big, no beauty dilemma unfixable.  Nothing, that is, except…frizz!  (Cue horror music!)  Sure, there’s Japanese straightening, but that damages hair to the point where it eventually resembles straw.  John Frieda Frizz-Ease?  Farouk Biosilk?  They aren’t terrible, but are nowhere near the Holy Grail products they’re made out to be.  Straightening irons?  Please.  Amateur hour (which is about how long your hair will hold up in humidity).

It’s time somebody revolutionized the frizz game.  Enter: Living Proof No Frizz.

This stuff got a breathless, deal-with-the-devil write up in Allure recently that made everybody sit up and take notice.  I tried it for the first time last night, and while I’m not ready to sacrifice my firstborn or sing songs about its miraculous properties, I’m impressed.  It comes in different formulations for various hair types, is available as a spray or cream, promises to be idiot-proof–the more you use, the better!–and heat-styling only amplifies its properties.  My hair, so parched and damaged from years of coloring and flat-ironing that no amount of frizz-serum can truly tame it, was up to the challenge.

Last night: no frizz.  This morning: no frizz.  This afternoon: yeah, you guessed it.  Well played, Living Proof.  Color me a believer.

   Cologne writes:

So, the tree is up at Rockefeller center and the twinkle lights are in full effect outside Tiffany’s, but is your make-up wardrobe ready for the holidays? Giorgio Armani’s new limited edition Holiday Crystal Collection makes it easy.

I sat down last week with the uber-talented celebrity makeup artist Tim Quinn to get the lowdown on what’s new for the holidays. The Crystal Collection is exactly what I’d hoped for—festive and dazzling glamour. Think deep reds and crystal glitter. The collection incorporates the exclusive and luxurious Swarovski Crystals, drawing inspiration from the exquisite stones featured in Giorgio Armani’s couture evening dresses.

My favorites from the collection include the rich-colored Lip Waxes (a modern twist on lipstick) and the Black Shimmer Puff, which instantly glamour-ify any holiday outfit. The shimmer eyeshadow and body powder Crystal Palette and ArmaniSilk Lipstick both come in sleek black lacquered cases lined with Swarovski Crystals. They are the perfect holiday accessory for your make-up bag this party season. Oh, and the lipsticks are offered in a mini set of four shades, in case you want to try them all!

Tim Quinn also introduced me to Armani’s Face Fabric Second Skin Nude Makeup SPF 12, a primer and tinted moisturizer hybrid that made my face feel baby soft. Meanwhile, the other girls raved about the Crema Nera mineral restoring serum, which is said to work wonders on lines and wrinkles in less than a week! I’m sold…

For those of you who are like me and love the holidays for the sheer excuse that we get to break out our spray glitter and not be laughed at…well, Armani has created a mascara just for us: Silver Sparkling Mascara Top Coat. It is glitter. Mascara. Sparkling lashes. New Year’s necessity. Enough said.