Alert, alert, the Golden Globes are on tonight! Even though my husband keeps saying, “This is like your Superbowl!”, no, it is not, the Oscars are my Superbowl and the Golden Globes are my NFC playoffs. I just Googled “important football games” to come up with that.

[Side note: Al Roker is interviewing celebs on the red carpet now, and instead of listening to a single word Julia Louis-Dreyfuss is saying, all I can think is that Al Roker pooped himself at the White House. And I don’t know which was worse – that he DID THAT (I can’t even type it again), or that he then sat down in a staged “hard-hitting” interview to promote his book and in a misguided attempt to open up to his fans, he actually revealed that HE DID THAT.]

So yesterday was my husband’s birthday. This was his birthday present (well, the one I can show you pictures of, rowr!):

Do you know what that is? Because I didn’t. It is a bar you hang in a door frame so that you can do pull-ups in various positions throughout your house. He actually wanted this as a present. Do you know what I would do if someone gave this to me? I would flail my weak, flabby arms in the air and be totally offended, and then ask for some help lifting the box into my car so I could return it to the store. This is just one of the many ways in which my husband and I are different: he is not particularly sensitive (one might say “insensitive”) and I am extremely sensitive (or “constantly reasonable and predictable”). Also, he has upper body strength.

So my husband opened his present in the morning and then got a few hours by himself over the weekend, and we had a nice dinner with friends. That he cooked pretty much on his own. That was his birthday. For my kids’ birthdays, I plan weeks and months ahead of time, spend hundreds of dollars and days planning, and try to make every party meaningful and fun. And right as I am starting to feel a tinge of guilt, both for doing next to nothing for my husband and going overboard for my kids, I stumble across an article describing how Beyonce and Jay-Z spent $200K on Blue Ivy’s first birthday party. And while (1) I am sure the article is mostly not true, (2) Beyonce and Jay-Z could probably find $200K in the cushions of their solid-platinum-yet-perfectly-comfortable couch, and (3) a diamond encrusted Barbie doll just sounds dangerous, the article made me feel better. At least I am not spending $200K on my kids’ birthday parties, right?! Once again, thank you, Bey and Hova for putting things in perspective.

And now I have to wrap this up because I just saw Benedict Cumberbatch on the Golden Globes and almost fell off my couch. And his date for the evening is wearing a turban. Seriously, is he real?! I need to go ask my husband if I am hallucinating. More than usual, I mean.