Ding-A-Ling ... Mary Kay Calling!

Attention People! I'm selling Mary Kay products! That's right, I've been suckered in ... but that is fine by me, because I love me some make-up and I love me some skin care. Mary Kay has good stuff ... trust me, I would never promote crap (I think that should be my tag-line).

Any who, if you're interested in perusing the selection, go to my MK site: www.marykay.com/corrinenovak, and sign up. My site takes credit cards too!! And, if you're interested in having a facial/skin care/product preview party just let me know. Think about it, you could have this blog in your home in person, for your entertainment. Who else can help make your skin pretty AND make you laugh? The pickins are slim, my friend. I suggest you jump on this wagon while you can! Yee-haw!

Goya ... Oh, Boya!

Yesterday I became the proud Godmother of Madisyn, the gorgeous daughter of one of my bestest friends, Naisha. The ceremony was held at a Pentacostal church in Brooklyn. Naisha isn't a member of the church, her grandmother is, but she wanted her daughter baptized in a private ceremony, so she decided to have it there.

Before we arrived at the church, Naisha warned me, "This is a real Black church. I don't think you've seen one of these." And, she was right. People were shivering, people were shaking, tears were being shed. It was deep. Definitely won't find that at the local Catholic church in my neighborhood. God forbid you clap at something the priest said, Sister Mary Ellen will have you escorted out in a heartbeat.

Any who, the ceremony was set to begin, and in the blink of an eye it was over. I think the whole thing took less than 10 minutes. But, those 10 minutes were chock full o' blog fodder, my friend.

For one, Madisyn was not trying to be held by the pastor. Uh-uh, she wanted her father and no one else. Then, it was blessing time. I was prepared to be blessed with holy water or annointing oil that had been blessed over. I was not prepared to be blessed with Goya olive oil, that was still in the Goya bottle. You read it correctly people ... it was still in the bottle. Humor me, and at least put it in a nice glass bottle. However, before my bangs became salad dressing, the pastor asked me if I was "saved." I said yes, but then I wondered ... what kind of reaction would I have gotten if I said no? I can see it now: People fainting, shivering, crying and olive oil all over the place.

Crush of the Moment

Brandon Routh


Take a good look at the new "Man of Steel" [tee hee hee -- imagine a 10 year old snickering]. Brandon is the complete package [tee hee hee] ladies. He's tall (6 feet 3 inches), gorgeous, and has amazing hair; so thick and lustrous. Do you think he uses Pantene Pro-V?

If I was Lois Lane, I would make stuff up every 10 minutes just so he could come and save me:

- Superman! I broke a nail!

- Superman! I can't find my keys!

- Superman! I dropped my pen, can you pick it up? No, face the other way ... yeah, that's it.

Superman hits theaters on June 28th. This is gonna be a good summer ladies!!

Who the hell do you think you are? The voice of God?

"Don't I look warm and cozy
in the billion-dollar coat
my fans paid for?"

It's that time of year again! Miss Streisand has emerged from her groundhog hole (which I'm sure has an interior of egg-shell white), to grace us with her "last" [wait ... wait, I'm laughing] concert. And, just like Barbra's last-last concert, her ticket prices are crazy high.

Barbra can you hear me? ... Bitch, please. You need to stop.

Stop coming out every other year with your sad routine of, "I'm shy and have stage-fright ... but I'll put on a concert for 1 trillion dollars a ticket!". Sure you have a beautiful voice, it's amazing, kudos to you. But, you are not the voice of God, so stop charging prices like every time you sing a note an angel pops out of your ass. Now, that I'd pay for!

I mean, you don't even do anything. You just stand at center-stage, wearing your tired Donna Karan gown, with one hand on a white microphone and the other on a bar stool. If I'm paying $800 to see you, you had better pull a rabbit out of somewhere. Oh, and FYI, white microphones are tacky and look like vibrators. Break a leg!

Um, Get Your Own 3rd World Country

According to the Associated Press, someone from Britney Spears' and Kevin Federline's camp has contacted the Namibian government about going there to have their second child.

Britney, please stop being tacky. There are so many other developing nations that you could pick, why go to the one where Angie and Brad just left. Come on, you're worth more than some sloppy seconds. You have a whole mess of places in South America, and Eastern Europe. How about returning to your home state of Louisiana ... they need attention too. See how fast the world forgot about Hurricane Katrina now that the next hurricane season has started a'brewin'?

Say no to Brit and KFed Namibia! For your own sakes! You don't want that type of recognition. And, when the hell did they ever donate any money to African nations? Does Britney even know that there aren't any 7-Eleven's or Starbucks there? Um, Brit, just because Starbucks sells Namibian Roast Frappacinos does not mean there is a Starbucks in Namibia.

Britney Betta Recognize

Last night on Dateline NBC the yummy Matt Lauer interviewed Ms. Britney Spears. It was a heartfelt discussion about her experiences with the paparazzi, and life as a wife and new mother. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I was feeling for Brit during the entire interview ... that was until she blamed the streets of New York City for her inability to simultaneously carry a drink in one hand and her son in the other.

That's right people, Brit said that the day she almost dropped her son was because of the paparazzi (no shit), and because the streets of NYC are uneven (again, no shit). However, this was not your first time in NYC Britney. If you know the streets are messed up, you shouldn't wear long ass jeans, big clunky shoes, and carry a drink and your son all at one time. Can't one of your man-servants hold your drink? You can't be that parched, it's not like you were running a marathon.

Other than that tiny comment, I was on Britney's side. Leave her alone world! Can't you see she's going through it? Have you no shame?

Oh, and another thing, what the hell was up with her fake eyelashes? One was coming off. You have all those people around to help you, and no one told you that one of your lashes was coming off? Fire them all, girl. And, hire me. I will definitely tell you the truth. You're beautiful, I sing "Toxic" every time I go out for karaoke. I'm a fan. But please, just wash your face, brush your hair and take off that purple Brucci nail polish. I'm all for letting yourself go (you should see me on weekends), but for the love of humanity, the Courtney Love-look is soooo not working for you.

Crush of the Moment

John Lloyd Young

John recently won a Tony award for his portrayal of Franki Valli in this year's best musical winner, "Jersey Boys."

I think he's a hottie, and I'm completely comfortable with the fact that he can sing like he got his scrotom ripped off by a rabid pitbull.

Eh, this crush has a girlfriend too. Boy, do I know how to pick 'em.

UPDATE: My father and my nephew Jonathan went to see "Jersey Boys" last night. They said it was amazing, they got to shake hands with the cast and got their autographs ... including my crush of the moment!! What Jonathan doesn't know, is that I plan to steal his signed PlayBill ... hee hee hee.

"What The Hell!" of the Moment

I promised myself that I wouldn't talk about work on my blog, but I just have to vent about this.

What the hell is up with people asking me questions about shit they can read on electronic case notes? "Oh, Corrine, what's going on with so-and-so?" Gee, I don't know. Why doesn't your lazy ass point and click your mouse and read it for yourself? My title is Case Manager, not Personal Case Note Reader. What's the point of me typing the note if you're not going to read it yourself?

Can you tell it's almost Friday?

In Memoriam

Several months ago I bought a great pair of brand name shoes on sale for $15. I know!! Isn't that amazing?! They were gorgeous: Lavender and black, with a nice high heel, and classic looking. I wore them once, and couldn't wait to wear them again. Last night I decided to work my entire outfit for today around those shoes.

This morning I woke up, did my make up, put on my dress, and when I opened my shoe box I was stunned! The shoes had been devoured by my 4 month old German Shepherd, Breeze. I freaked out, but regained my composer by the time I got to work. Then it hit me ....

The shoes were in the box when I found them. Although Breeze is intelligent, I don't think she is capable of taking shoes out of the box, eating them, and then placing them back in the box with the top on. So, someone, and I'm not going to name names, but it rhymes with "Tom", must have found the shoes after they were all beat up, put them away, and never told me about their demise.

Don't think you're going to get away with this 'Tom." You think someone who watches "CSI," and "Cold Case Files," 24 hours a day would know have to cover up a crime scene.

UPDATE: I spoke to "Tom," and she denies she had anything to do with the shoes. However, her eyes were shifty, so I don't believe her. 'Tom" sits on a throne of lies! Lies, I say!

Oh my, just want I've always wanted!

I was just on the telephone with my mother, and she says to me, "Oh, by the way, someone at my job threw out a book called 'What Men Want,' so I brought it home for you. It's by the computer. I thought it would be something you'd be interested in reading."

Thanks Mom. Thank you for the passive-aggressive attempt at basically saying, "When the hell are you going to get hitched, and get up out of our apartment?!" Geez Mom, your subtly is inspiring .... no, really, it is.

Oh look! What a coincidence, someone at my job just threw out a book, and it's called, "Lay Off: The Single Girls Guide to Living with her Parents." Ooooh, looks like a real page turner!

Hangin' in the Boonies

Gather 'round kiddies, I'm going to tell you the tale of the city slicker who thought she could handle a weekend in the boonies of Syracuse.

The 5-hour journey began last Thursday, after I helped one of my bestest buddies, AJ, move his belongings into a minivan. SIDE NOTE: AJ, I don't think you need any more shoes ... ever. And, FYI to everyone, Hefty Force Flex bags aren't that impressive. Any who, we arrived in Baldwinsville (small town outside of Syracuse) at around 3am. Before heading to Grandma Bev's house, we went to the Bville version of PathMark ... P & C. I assume the letters stood for Punch and Cut, because the parking lot was almost pitch black, and ripe for a muggin'. AJ purchased contact solution, and then we headed to Grandma's.

Grandma's house, in a word, is big. And at night its big and scary. She has like 50 acres of woods! Woods, people! The only woods I know about are nicely located in the middle of Manhattan, aka Central Park. And, my woods conveniently come with a zoo and hot dog vendors. As soon as I get out of the car, I cling to AJ like a friggin' magnet. We get to the gargage door, and do you know what we find? THE DOOR IS UNLOCKED! What is up with country folk? They basically invite killers into their homes and bake them cookies. I don't know about you, but I read "In Cold Blood," so I know what happens in towns like this one. Needless to say, I slept with one eye open the entire night (which didn't matter because it was dark as hell in the room and I couldn't even see my hand in front of my face). Oh, and let me take this time to apologize to AJ for making him escort me everywhere in the scurry house.

The next day we went to AJ's mom's house. Um, it's huge, located next to a small cemetary, and I think they filmed the Drew Barrymore scene in "Scream," there. It was a cloudy day, and in the early evening it was foggy. When we hopped into the car to head to the mall, I looked around and was reminded of the poster for "The Exorcism of Emily Rose." Oh, hell no. How did I end up here? Where did I put my Xanax?

The following day, Grandma Bev made a huge lunch that caused Lisa (AJ's sister), AJ and me to fall into a three hour food-coma. We started laid out on the living room carpet, but miraculously woke up in recliners. Ahhh, the country life.

Later that night, when Lisa, AJ and I got back to their mother's house, AJ and Lisa had an idea: Get the mail. Let's discuss this idea. In the city, getting the mail is a simple task - just go down to the lobby. But, in B-ville it's not that simple. In the dark of night, we had to walk a little down the road to a mailbox located in front of a delapidated barn. Did I mention it was dark? There were stars for goodness sake! And, I heard insects. Not city insects ... country ones. I ran back to that house like I had a firecracker in my ass.

On Sunday afternoon I hopped on a train back to the city. I sat alone for about two stops, and then some old guy sat next to me and he wanted to talk and shit. Um, I have ear-buds on, what don't you understand? "No, I don't want any of the peanuts you just bought." "Yes, yes, it sure is a long ride." "No thank you, I don't need to know the last time you were on Amtrak." "Do I look like Big Ben? Then stop asking me for the time." I had to fake-sleep half the time.

Despite being scared shitless, I had a wonderful time in the 'Cuse with my buddy AJ. He's moving to Chicago in a few weeks, and I'm going to miss him like crazy. I love you AJ! One Mind.

Crush of the Moment

Just how I like 'em ... wounded.


My crush of the moment is James Franco, star of such films as Tristan & Isolde and Spiderman.

At times he looks androgynous and malnurished, but he's cute as hell, so he still makes my list.

Look What the Cat Dragged ...

1. I'm speechless.

This is a picture of my niece Cheyenne "walking" the family cat.

I really don't know what to say, and she's family so I don't want to scar her for life. I guess I should be supportive ...

You go, Cheyenne! Walk that cat!

How about "Mission Unwatchable"?

Last night JohnPaul and I went to see Mission Impossible III. [YAWN] ... sorry, just saying the title makes me bored.

Needless to say, MI:III wasn't all that great, and didn't seem all that impossible (perhaps because we all saw it happen on ALIAS three seasons ago). Come on Tom! I know you are more creative than this, I mean you spend your time promoting a religion that was friggin' made up by some dude ... now that's creative! Piggyback on L. Ron, and spend more time at the Scientology Celebrity Center; I'm sure then you will think of something.

Oh, and on another note, please, please, please fire the crew member who was in charge of the lighting. The love story with the younger woman was believable until I saw that I could plant corn in your crows feet.

Thank you Denise, for making Hollywood fun again

I just wanted to send a shout out to my girl Denise Richards for taking the Hollywood divorce to a whole new level. Go Denise! Not only have you decided to drag your soon-to-be ex-husband Charlie Sheen through the mud with crazy accusations (that are most likely true) but you have completely defeated the purpose of divorcing in LA ... irreconciliable differences! You could have just cited that and moved on. But, no, you said let's make it nasty. I love it!

Did you leave it at that? Oh hell no! You're too smart to just rip your ex-husband to shreds - you decided to prance around with Heather Locklear's soon-to-be ex-husband Richie Sambora. That takes talent and skill! Be careful though, Heather will make sure you never get your hands on Loreal Preference hair color ever again. Let's see how long Richie stays after he sees your roots.

Remind me never to visit South Carolina

I just read an article titled, "Bill would make sale of sex toys illegal in South Carolina."

You know some politician who's jealous that his wife has more fun with a battery-operated device than with him, started this mess. There's gonna be a lot of angry women in SC. And, summer's coming too! They're gonna be hot and angry. Oooooh weeeee, I give it until the day after the official start of summer before this stupid piece of legislation is thrown out.

With all the problems in the world, the last thing we need to do is focus on banning the sale of sex toys. Come on all you SC politicians! Get yourselves some anal beads, and call it a day.

Why did the chicken cross Delancey Street?

To save his ass that's why.

A few days ago Dineen calls me at around 7:30am to tell me that a chicken ran away from the Spanish poultry slaughter house by Delancey Street, and was now crossing Delancey Street.

What's on the other side of the street you ask? The Happy Wok Chinese take-out restaurant. This little fella better make a right on Clinton Street, or his ass is fried ... literally.

What Do Vampires Do Best?

Suck. And, if that's the case, then Lestat: The Musical did a helluva job. It was bad y'all, and I feel bad saying that because I was so excited to see it. But, by Act II I was looking in my PlayBill trying to count how many songs were left until the travesty was over.

Let me move on to something positive before my mascara runs ...



On a good note, a new musical comedy called The Drowsy Chaperone is a must see. It has everything you want in a Broadway show: Singing, comedy, amazing costumes, dancing and no intermission! Seriously, why do shows still have intermission? Does any one ever get to use the bathroom before the 2nd Act starts? And, theater seats are too damned cramped for me to keep getting up and down, up and down, for people. I paid to see a friggin' show, not to work on my leg muscles. PEE BEFORE YOU GO TO THE SHOW AND SIT YOUR ASS DOWN!

"What The Hell?!" of the Moment

What the hell is up with sales receipts? I bought a small bottle of water this evening at Duane Reade, and the cashier gave me a receipt that looked like a friggin' Miss America sash.

What could possibly be so important to warrant further printing? All I need to see is the item and proof that I paid for it. That's it. I don't need a coupon, my lucky numbers for the day, my horoscope , or the history of how Duane met Reade and they lived happily ever after selling Vicks Vapor Rub and sanitary napkins. Plus, aren't we supposed to be conserving paper? Asses.

"What The Hell?!" of the Moment

Every weekday morning, on my way to work, I have to cross the street at Delancey & Clinton. It's the location where most cars getting off of the Williamsburg Bridge turn, so you can probably guess that it's a busy area, especially during rush hour.

Can someone please explain to me where the friggin' fire is? Because without fail, every morning, individuals seem to have a problem waiting for the signal that allows them to cross Delancey & Clinton safely.

Singles, people in groups, people with small children, just prance (not run, but prance) across the busy ass street like they're invisible. GET THE #$%& OUT OF THE WAY! And, that's just what's going on in my mind while I'm standing on the corner waiting for the signal. I can just imagine what drivers think.

What the hell is so special on the other side of the street, that you have to risk your life to get over there? It's Delancey Street for goodness sake! What? Is there a hot sale at Rainbow? Is PePe's Joyeria giving away jewelry for free? NO HE ISN'T! So, slow your asses down!