Some people can carry off the whole red-white-and-blue stars-and-stripes thing; I can't. I'm too short for all that activity. I usually wear black to summer parties because it hides ketchup stains, sweat, and BBQ-bloat, but I'm kinda wishing I had this retro-style red-and-white summery and semi-patriotic dress to wear this weekend. The smocking at the waist and the bit of ruffle at the bust and hem would be so vacationey––yes, vacationey––with wedges and a big floppy straw hat. (Bonus: the pattern and style will still hide my ketchup, sweat, and bloat!)

My biggest handicap at summer parties is that I'm a poor multitasker; I can't eat, smalltalk, drink, and hold in my belly at the same time, so I often end up silently drinking in the corner. Genesis rewrite: "On the sixth day, instead of creating man, God creates the practical party plate." This plastic party tray fits right over your bottle, cup, or can, so you can hold everything in one hand––pause to take this in people––freeing the other hand (and side of your brain) for other party activities!

Lucky for me (and everyone else) I don't have to grill this weekend, but if I did, I'd need this wireless thermometer. It verbally alerts you when the meat has reached the perfect temperature, so you don't have to babysit the grill and miss the party. You just program your choice of eight entrees, choose the desired level of doneness, and the four verbal and audio alert options tell you when your meal is almost ready, ready, or overcooked. Works for your oven, too. Great gift for the neurotic chef.

Fourth of July get-togethers really are like Christmas in July when you stop and think about it, although I guess you don't have to spend the holiday with family. People eat too much and drink too much and say too much, too, but at least they're not dressed in winter woolens if they get all hot and bothered and they can always take a dip in the pool and eat ice cream to cool off. This set of four waffle cone ice cream bowls with interior colors red, white, blue, and tan, is the perfect vehicle for a little cooling off, the perfect hostess gift, and the perfect patriotic addition to your summertime party!

Forty-three bugs died to get a taste of me this week. There are welt-shaped memorials erected to them all over my arms, legs, and even on the cheeks of my arse. I suppose with all the rain we've had here in New York, it was inevitable that the feckers would be gathering their forces and preparing to attack; I was an easy unprepared target. Wish I'd had these Bug Off wipes; they're DEET-free (just essential oils of rosemary, citronella, lemongrass, and geranium), and come in a convenient mess-free wipe.