By the time you read this, I'll already be there.

In 2008, I went with some BFFs on an annual October trip to Key West, Florida. You can read about that and my childhood (and continuing) love for a Bertie Higgins song by clicking HERE.

We had plans to do many things on the trip, meeting up with Irish Peter being at the top of the list. (In 2007, the girls made fast friends with Irish Peter--a nickname they bestowed upon him because his name is Peter and he is, in fact, Irish. He is also funny, charming, hot, a good time, has an accent and did I mention that he's hot?--who at the time was working as the bartender on the booze cruise they were boozin' it up on.) We went to a bar he was working at and all of the boxes on the list of reasons men make my heart race were checked off. We had a great time, and at some point in the night we were in the parking lot behind the bar so he could record my outgoing voicemail greeting. This greeting has confused and possibly irritated every straight guy who has ever called me, because the combination of Irish Peter's accent and the speed at which he's talking makes it difficult for people to understand. Every female and gay guy who has ever called me has given it RAVE reviews, though. They usually say that they can't understand a thing he says but the accent makes it sexy anyway. You should give it a listen:

My outgoing voicemail greeting: Irish Peter by HouseofJules

"How's it goin'? Jules isn't here right now; she's out in Key West picking some spuds and lookin' for me Lucky Charms. If you can leave a message, she'll be glad to get back to you as soon as she can. I'll be talkin' to ya and have a wonderful day!"


Friends have called me multiple times in a day just to hear that voicemail greeting.


I wasn't able to go on the trip with the girls this year, but my BFF Jen let Irish Peter use her phone because he was missing me (duh) and he also wanted to hear himself as my voicemail greeting. I had to switch it out for a generic greeting recently because I'm looking for a new job and don't want potential employers to hear him and assume they've gotten the wrong number! The message he left me is one for the books:

He REALLY is a gift by HouseofJules

"Jules, I'm kinda sad. I was expecting to hear myself in your phone! We're calling you here from Key West; you might recognize my voice! Happy birthday! Apparently, we have your birthday present here. I'm wrapped up in a bow; you've gotta come down and get me..."

(It's so funny hearing my girls "Oh my God!"-ing as he hands Jen's phone back to her. So. Funny.)

I made the mistake of listening to that message at work, and then I listened to it again. And again (and again). Wrapped in a bow? Come down and get you? YES, PLEASE.


Then, I switched from the generic outgoing greeting I was using to the one he recorded with me, just so he could call back and hear it. This is his reaction:

Rosetta Stone by HouseofJules

"You need to put subtitles on your message, 'cause I can't even understand that and I actually said it! I need to get Rosetta Stone and get my english a little better there. I'm having technical difficulties! Thanks for putting it back on, you're the best!"


Funny, charming, hot, a good time, hot, has an accent, is wrapped in a bow for my birthday and all I have to do is go get him? Twist my arm.

Happy birthday to me, indeed.

****

Outlawfully wed

Ladies (and some of you men out there):

I give* you Jesse James.

Would I like to gnaw on his biceps for a couple of hours? Yes, please.


He cleans up nicely, too. Rawr!



Click here to follow me on Twitter!


*It's more like I'm dangling him in front of you. You're welcome.

****

A.) Things I won't be doing in this post, and B.) Why:

A.) Making references to blowing or eating.

B.) Because I'm a lady*.


Full story on my Piven birthday cake HERE. Thanks, Missy! You're the bomb!



*Why does everybody always laugh when I say that?!

Add to Wish List?

Happy birthday to the Swedish hotness that is Alexander Skarsgård!


True Blood's Eric Northman in my bathtub? Yes, please!


If you aren't watching HBO's True Blood, WHY AREN'T YOU WATCHING HBO'S TRUE BLOOD? Not having HBO isn't an excuse. I don't have HBO, but I watch it (and drool) every week. Here's the main reason, which I'd use as my defense in court if I had to:



Now, if you'll excuse me? I need a moment.

Defying nature, he's even hotter than those 200-foot flames

Please understand that I'm not making a joke out of the California fires. However, in reading THIS story about the state of things in Montecito, I feel the need to say something:



Whatever Rob Lowe is doing to stay this pretty, he should keep doing it. It's like a gift to those of us who, in the 80's, thought nobody could be sexier than Billy Hicks from St. Elmo's Fire. Somehow-- 23 years older-- today's Rob Lowe makes the saxophone-playing Rob Lowe of 1985 look downright homely.

The side-by-side comparison, for scientific purposes of course:

Well, alright... the 1985 Rob Lowe isn't exactly HOMELY, but still. The man is a national treasure.

The same thing goes for John Stamos.

Presenti: Il festival favoloso delle cinque pizze...

("Presenting: The Fab Five Pizza Fest!")
...or at least how to make one of the tastiest toppings ever!

I'm not going to start posting everything delicious I've ever put in my mouth on here, so no worries! However, there are some things I think everyone should know how to make (or at least get the chance to eat after someone else makes them!), and roasted tomatoes are one of those things. They're so easy that it would be sad if you look at the recipe and think you can't handle it.

Last week, my 13-year-old nephew J assisted me with making a ton of them since tomatoes are really cheap right now. We loaded up on 12 Roma tomatoes and 4 huge Heirloom (true, a little pricier, but they're so funky looking we couldn't resist. Also? Delicious!) tomatoes-- yellow, purple, green and red/green striped-- then headed back to the house and set up an assembly line.

While I washed & sliced the tomatoes, J covered 4 cookie sheets with foil and spread a very light layer of olive oil on top of the foil. Then he started laying out the tomatoes like a pro. After that, we lined the cookie sheets up in assembly line fashion. He started us rolling by sprinkling our pre-measured kosher salt over each tray:


Tomatoes, salted.


I followed behind him with the balsamic vinegar, pouring an equal amount over each tray:


Tomatoes salted and balsamic vinegar'd.


Then J went over each tray with cracked black pepper, and I finished everything off with a very light drizzle of olive oil.


Tomatoes salted, vinegar'd, peppered and oiled.



Roma & Heirloom tomato heaven!



Shot from the other end of the counter. Still Drool-worthy.


I previously posted the recipe (which I had to quadruple for the amount of tomatoes J and I roasted) HERE.

Like always, they came out after roasting deliciously sweet and tangy, with an unmistakable ZING! I used them for several different things that week, the main thing as a topping on homemade pizzas! This is what my roasted tomato, black olive, red onion, mushroom, fresh basil & turkey-pepperoni (spicier than regular pepperoni, you should try it!) pizza turned out like:


Our cousin Eric's famous dough recipe, as well as some organic tomato sauce & cheese helped to make this the Best Pizza Ever. For real.


You can read all about that & see more photos of our Fab Five Labor Day Pizza Fest (including what everyone else's pizzas looked like!) on my sister's blog by clicking HERE!

  It's a lot more fun, when making your own homemade pizzas, if you have everyone speak with Italian accents, and occasionally belt out lyrics from That's Amore! Itsa nice!

All photos taken by J, my trusty kitchen and camera sidekick... except the gratuitous pizza shot, taken by my sister (who is also trusty).

*HOLLYWUD CONNECSHUNZ... I HAZ THEM!!!* (UPDATED!)

(*In case you didn't already know, that headline is LOLcat speak!)

Can you guess what movie star I got some exclusive photos of based on this cropped shot featuring his flair for accessorizing?

No, it's not my husband Jeremy Piven!

There are no prizes involved besides bragging rights, which to some of us is actually better than a prize anyway. Leave your guesses in the comments.

...

UPDATEZ! I HAZ THEM!

WOW, those were some really good guesses, you guys! The most absurd interesting guess didn't even make it into the comments. A certain man said with all the confidence in the world (he was SO sure that he was correct that he seemed utterly BORED by the guessing-game), "It's obviously Ian Astbury!". (If you aren't up on the post-punk brit rock from the early 90's, he was the lead singer of The Cult. This assertion made me laugh so hard and for so long that it turned into one of those silent laughs, in which you at some point decide to either somehow STOP laughing or you just go ahead and stop breathing. Obviously Ian Astbury! That. Is. Hilarious.)


So, it's Johnny Depp, which most of you guessed from his vast array of neck-wear. He has been shooting around the midwest for a couple of weeks and recently he was in one of my favorite small towns, Darlington, Wisconsin. One of my good friends from college has a long family history in Darlington, and she is now raising HER children there. It's such a close-knit community that several years ago when I called the local florist to order Danielle some flowers, I gave her name and then started giving the delivery address. The florist cut me off and said, "I know where Danielle lives!" Tiny town, big heart! Anyway, I knew my good friend would have the scoop for me (and for YOU!), word and sound travels fast in Darlington.


Whaaat? JD in D-ton? Time to call my remote correspondent, Danielle. She'll have all the gossip for me!


Saying that Danielle was less-than-impressed to have a movie star in her hometown is overplaying her emotions. When I excitedly called her, I could FEEL her rolling her eyes at me. She was basically the only one in town not hyped, though. Her friends and family either watched some of the filming at the courthouse, were extras, and one even got the incredible photos I'm about to share with you. Danielle was so bored with all the Hollywood commotion that when she sent me the photos, she made sure to tell me that she was sleeping soundly at the time they were taken. Her Aunt Suzi even got to present Johnny with the key to the city, as you'll see in that last photo. At least SOMEBODY in the family was showing him some respect!


©House of Jules. I had to put my big HOJ stamp across the photos so nobody stole them. I'M TALKING TO YOU, PEREZ HILTON!

He was down to earth, gracious and especially kind to the kids, asking if they liked Captain Jack without the beard. I'm glad I wasn't there, I probably would have knocked the adorable children over to get that kind of attention from Don Juan DeMarco.

Now this is a tour I'd take any day of the week!

People (or, more specifically, the straight guys I hang out with who have to find something wrong with the men their lady-friends swoon over) make such a big deal about David Beckham having a less than manly voice. To that I say the octave of his voice doesn't bother me at all, because I'm too busy drooling over his looks to hear any of the crap that comes out of his mouth.


If you want to torture yourself by attempting to take the tour by licking your screen, I'm certainly not gonna judge you; but don't torture yourself trying to watch the video by clicking on this photo. See link below. You know, after you're done licking your screen.

Undeniably great-looking soccer star David Beckham, on the subject of his 15 body tattoos: "I think everybody's got a way of expressing their feelings, and mine is through my tattoos."

Undeniably great-looking news star Anderson Cooper: "I will now express my feelings for David Beckham by licking his tattoos."


Ok, AC didn't actually SAY that, but I know he was totally thinking it... and FYI, I'd "tour" either of these men. Click HERE to watch the video.

The crashing of the surf, like the beating of our hearts, drowned out the sounds of the paparazzi

It has been so cold here in Chicago that Jeremy decided to whisk me off to the beach. We both needed to shake off some of these wintertime blues! Even with the pesky paparazzi, it was a lovely getaway. You can tell in the photo on the right that I hardly had a concern in the world beyond making sure my legs got tan.


Pivs & I, soaking up the heat of the sun, which is different than the heat of our love only in that the sun eventually sets, taking it's heat with it. Our love is on, 24/7, baby.


I wouldn't have known anything about our uninvited guests had Jen not sent me the link! Thanks, Jen!

Not even Dirty Sexy Money could beat my Dirty Sexy Honey

Happy 2008 from The Pivens

Happy New Year from Jeremy & I. We hope 2008 is unbelievably great for each and every one of you!


Me, my man, our city; New Year's Eve

I'll take my Favorite Things over Oprah's any day; also see: anytime, anyplace.

My parents have completed most of their drive north from Tennessee to Chicago, putting them 3 short hours away from the non-virtual House of Jules; where they'll be staying for the next 5 days. It's already 10pm and I have yet to do some very key things before they arrive.

For instance, I need to make it look like I could eat off my kitchen floor if I wanted to, and not so much like I actually DO. You understand.

On that note, here is today's shorter-than-usual-but-hopefully-still-entertaining post. I was prompted by a comment made on yesterday's post by Stacey, (Thanks, Nurse-Dr. Stace!) and then my reaction to it; in addition to the fact that today Oprah aired her annual "Favorite Things" show:

Stacey: I'm picturing Oprah's couch when your blog lands you on her show. Javier Bardem, Pivs, Baio, Macchio, Mike Rowe. It's only a matter of time, so I totally call the chick-she-talks-to-in-the-front-row seat... you've gotta call shotgun quick around here.

Me: Funny you should write that, because with the addition of Antonio Banderas and Olivier Martinez, it’s exactly how I picture MY OWN couch looking one day! Just me and my “Favorite Things”.

My Favorite Things, based on what I've both written about and drooled over; be it in public or in private. (counterclockwise, on my actual brand new living room furniture--though not my actual living room): Mark Ovenden's Transit Maps of the World (Filled with ALL the transit maps of! the! world! THE WORLD, I say! Take a minute to think about how cool that is and you might be surprised to find yourself drooling), Olivier Martinez, Javier Bardem, Ralph Macchio, Jeremy Piven, Scott Baio, Dirty Job's Mike Rowe, and finally, splaying himself out on the ottoman like a Beefcake-Buffet: Antonio Banderas. The thing about a Banderas Buffet? He's so hot there's no need for a warming tray. Rawrr!