Blog Posts by Glamour Magazine

We've got an exclusive quote from Hillary about last night's Pennsylvania
primary, the reason why men lose to Danica Patrick, and an update on Ashlee Simpson's pregnancy rumors.

Want more from The Daily Special? Check us out on Elastic Waist.

Also, cutie comedian John Knefel confirms Kim's worst fears with his list of things women need to know about guys.


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I have ridiculously pale skin and also, bruise like a peach. In fact, whenever I get home from a trip, I look like I've been through a minor car accident from the bruises caused by sitting on airplane seatbelts, knocking my shins against heavy luggage, or whacking my legs against furniture when navigating my way into a hotel bathroom in the dark. And I can always tell when I'm not getting enough vitamins and minerals because just the minor bumps in my daily life start showing up on my flesh.

Right now, I've got three gigantic bruises on my body, scary, dark ones with varying shades of purple and blue. The one on my inner knee is undoubtedly from the first leg waxing appointment of the year, the one on my hip is probably from some sexy time over the weekend, and then the one on my arm is...well, I have no idea. I don't even remember jabbing myself or anything. Clearly, it's time to dedicate myself to some fresh fruits and veggies. I should probably read this book, huh?

Luckily, the

Earth Day is a holiday of goodness and right, because it's nice to stop and take a moment and think about what we personally can do to Make the World a Better Place. And I'm not even embarrassed at how sincere I'm being, here. Maybe a little bit. But you can be sincere in your Love for the Earth every single day and also so sincerely fashionable that people might not even make fun of you for your earnest do-gooderism--they might even emulate you, because you are so cool, and score one for both you and the earth.

It is very easy, and here is how: step one, make a delicious, healthy sandwich on preservative-free bread you have baked yourself. Step two: stick it in one of Mobi's reusuable (fancy) (really cute) sandwich bags (especially the ones designed by he's everywhere! Todd Oldham). Step three: when you pull out your very cute (delicious) (healthy) (fancy) lunch, feel happy because they are so pretty, frugal because you have packed your lunch, and also smugly green, because you

Excitement, excitement, excitement, excitement, way too much sugar, kaboom. And ouch. I got home very very late last night, spent an hour troubleshooting the Internet connection I so badly needed to work to upload actual work, and then crash, explode. The bonus is that I slept like I rock, except for when I woke up just in time to get myself into the bathroom. The drawback was those bathroom trips. The takeaway is that sometimes you can postpone getting sick and being tired and loopy, but when you do, payback is a b---- , and et cetera.

It's been one of those days where moving to the desk, or the kitchen, or even the couch, has sounded like a terrible ordeal, as does thinking, breathing, moving, and doing anything else in the world besides nap fitfully, scratch the cat behind the ears and wonder what it would be like if I was able to actually focus my eyes both in the same direction, at the same depth, and read more than a line of a book.

I needed a day like this, I guess--I would

I'm heading up to Sloan Kettering momentarily for another PCR blood test...the one I ship to Oregon on ice so they can try to find leukemia cells. It's been years since anything remotely cancerous has shown up in my blood--and as you remember the CML never even came back during the 10 months I was off Gleevec while pregnant--but still, every test gets me nervous. You just never know when your luck will run out. That's why I try to take these "cancer days" as opportunities to remember that life is precious and maybe it wouldn't kill me to slow down and smell the roses--or kiss my baby...again--and enjoy the health and happiness I've got right now. Not a bad reality check I suppose. So what does it take for you guys to step back and enjoy/be grateful for the big picture? It's something we should all do more often, don't you think?

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My sanity saver? iPod playlists. Our nine-month-old, Charlie (on the left), seems to respond to music, so we used to play CDs to calm him down or put him to sleep. We'd always misplace them, though, so they were never on hand when needed. One quiet evening after I put him down, I downloaded all of his discs onto iTunes and created playlists for all his different moments and moods throughout the day (Bed Time, Bath Time, Play Time, Cranky... ). I also put a docking station in his room so he can listen to lullabies while drifting off to sleep. Now there's no more scouring the back seat of the car for that Dan Zanes CD -- I just push a button and everyone's happy!

Have a tip or trick to share? Email us!

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• Green Your Family's Home: A room-to-room guide to help make your home safe, comfortable and toxin-free.

From the beginning, the clever folks at Method have sought to make cleaning products--from dish soap to wood cleaners to washcloths-- affordable, all-natural, and attractive. Lucky for us, they're now dabbling in baby care. Their new baby line boasts diaper cream, body wash, and lotion that is gentle and totally eco-friendly...not to mention so stylishly packaged there will be no need to hide them under the sink.

Check out Cookie's Gear Index for all the best trikes, strollers, mobiles, art supplies, kids' plates, and more.


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• Home Front: Create the ideal nursery with this step-by-step guide.

How does sexy go again?

Lingerie manufacturers want you to think that they have got the market cornered on being sexy--that you are magically granted magic thong powers when you snap that string into place, and you become a goddess of love, with great and glorious power over all sexual organs within your provenance. Which would be nice if it were entirely true, and if that was the entirety of the secret.

I wish it were as easy as lingerie, that cute underpants could solve everything, because this past almost-a-week, I have not felt sexy at all. I have felt more or less on the far bank from sexy. Sexy is sunning itself on one side of the tracks, in its condo's private rooftop garden in the expensive neighborhood with all the Rottweilers on Coach leashes, and I'm asking for spare change over here in the dark and tragic unsexy side of town, scratching my open lesions and wonder what, exactly, it is like to be loved. If I were to approach it, it would shriek Masher! and beat me away with