How pregnancy is like junior high

I've been having this urge to get braces to fix that tooth of mine that sticks out a bit and realized that perhaps it's just part of a larger throwback to the good old days of Parkview Junior High. I never thought that I'd relive those glory days, and yet...

Stubborn acne that is seemingly impervious to medication. If I recall those days correctly, the Oxy-10 I used religiously had no effect on my face, but did bleach white spots in my pillowcases.

Completely uncoordinated and clumsy. Those doorjambs I ran into every pass through? I'm making full contact once again.

Getting dressed in the morning: aack, I can't find anything to wear!!

Once dressed, all that clothing looks ill-fitting and awkward. Especially all of those winter layers...

Hair responds inappropriately to styling efforts. The most sincere attempts with styling gel only exacerbate the situation.

Hormonal rollercoaster makes your moods unpredictable and somewhat unnerving for close friends and immediate family.

Can't drink beer.

Style tips from the stars

While standing in line to buy diapers at Walmart yesterday (just how many brilliant thoughts have begun with that opener, you ask yourself) I had a chance to catch up on the latest celebrity gossip in Star Magazine. Turns out you can pretty much read an entire issue in line, if the woman in front of you is buying a gigantic cart full of crap, if the cashier is friendly but not so very efficient, and still have time to pick out a new chapstick and a tasty flavor of Tic-Tacs. I'd already heard that Brad and Angie were having twins (Again!!!) and that J-Lo and what's his name's marriange was the rocks (She's been seen without her wedding ring!!!), so I wasn't totally behind. But when I turned the page to see a photo of an obviously very pregnancy Jennifer Garner with her 3 year old in tow, I admit to a frisson of delight. Because if this woman, who no doubt has a stylist on the payroll, and is, incidentally, able to kick bad guy butt in neoprene suits in 10 different languages, is seen about town with what I like to call the pregnancy barrette, then perhaps there is still hope.

The pregnancy barrette, you ask? Let's say you are on your way to the grocery store when you happen to pass by a mirror. You are still wearing the yoga pants you put on this morning and a disgusting powder blue sweatshirt (disgusting, given the material evidence of your last 3 meals which have dripped onto the awaiting shelf of your stomach). Slip-on shoes are definitely happening, and, since it's freezing outside, a giant puffy coat will only enhance the profile. Since you haven't showered, your hair is, let's say, not well-styled. Style, in fact, can't be seen from here. In this case, a little lipstick is just not going to do the job. The obvious solution: a hair clip is thrust at a rakish angle across the bangs, yanking that unappealing bit of hair out of your face and simultaneously giving your hair some much needed lift. If it works for Jennifer Garner, it works for me.