F.Y.I.

In case anyone noticed...  After hopes of creating the world's best new blog this year, I dropped off the face of the earth.  For two reasons:

1.  Our computer is in our "bonus room" - the room over the garage that is kept at a temperature akin to what meat is stored in.  dead meat.  i can barely last 10 minutes without the beginnings of hypothermia setting into my fingers.

2.  I've been working like a madwoman, trying to impress anyone who might give me a job in six months, and writing a lot of bills.  on capitol hill.

Will work on a space heater...

T.G.I.W.

In light of my obvious inability to keep up with The Hills discussion, I resolve to start 2009 by steadfastly reporting on The City.  It's also part of global changes I am making to my blog that you will slowly see...  Including more trashy t.v.!  Yes, yes - the guilty pleasures I love I won't hide any longer.  I'm pretty sure my t.v. watching is on par with a lonely, awkward 15-year-old girl - which seems to be the target audience of the shows I watch judging by the cleverly placed advertising.  But more on that later.

Ah, The City.  Thank God It's Whitney.  Let's start with the first episode, "If She Can Make It Here..."

Recap:  So, Whitney "gave up everything" to move to NYC and pursue not only a job at DVF but also an Australian hunk named Jay.  She has a "downtown" friend Erin and a "social" (because when you have too much money, you can drop the last syllable of words with reckless abandon) co-worker named Olivia.  She rocks at her first fashion show during fashion week, spends time with Jay, and attends a dinner party organized by Olivia. 

Commentary:  OK, surely you can tell that I love Whitney.  I think she is poised, intelligent, and stunning.  Overall, a great role model for young women.  But the first I don't know how many seconds of the opening episode are devoted to Whitney scripting an intro in which she repeatedly reminds us how much she gave up.  Really?  If she hadn't belabored the point, perhaps it would be no big deal, but honestly, how are you really giving up "everything" when you take a job that is advancing your career?  Whatevs...

Luckily, they quickly moved on to show Whitney in a crazy yellow dress on her first day of work.  One word describes her outfit: yowza.  The construction workers she passed on her way to the office agree.  Makes me regret not taking full advantage of my skinny days in a get-up like that.

However, seeing the daunting and dangerous staircase at DVF does not make me regret living a more down-to-earth lifestyle.  DVF must be one sadistic lady to force fashionistas inevitably wearing insanely high heels to strut up and down that maniacal set of stairs.  My feet hurt just thinking of it.

And what's up with Olivia?  I can't tell if she really is an obnoxious snob, or if MTV just wants me to think she is.  I lean toward the former when I recall how she cut everyone off at her dinner party to ask Whitney why Jay was not there.  What would she say?  "Um, well, I think he's worried we're spending too much time together, but what he really said was that you're a bitch."

But was that Veuve Cliquot in his hands when he did arrive to the party after all?  Mmm...

 

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

Something strange happened.  Perhaps because this is our first year in our first house.  Well, for whatever reason, I caught the holiday decorating bug.  It's our first year actually attempting some holiday cheer and I thought I was doing a pretty good job, but as I looked through the pictures I snapped, they all seem to be missing something...

The banister...

...looks rather dull.  I'd like to hang some ornaments throughout, but my cat would inevitably knock them down and the dog would inevitably eat them up.  Hmph.

Our front door...

...needs more lights!!  

An inside door...

... is actually in my opinion properly outfitted with a simple hanging Santa-Star creature made by my very crafty mother.

And my piece de resistance...

... my mantle, inspired by an idea in Real Simple, I think could use a couple of small wreaths hanging from the wall above.

Well, I'm already counting down the days until all this Christmas stuff is marked down so I can scoop up some great bargains and ensure a plentiful decorating spree next year.  I tried to snap a picture of my neighbor's outside display - think Clark Griswold - but alas it didn't come out.

I just have two words for them, though: game on.  I'm talking lighted reindeer, crazy lights, the whole nine yards.  Watch out for Xmas 2009.

Until then, enjoy this shot of our state's capital - next to my new place of work:

Astronomical Phenomena

One thing I love about my home is star-gazing.  Not the kind of stars you see in L.A. or NYC.  Real stars.  I can see the Little Dipper on a regular basis and sometimes the Big Dipper.  

That's about as advanced as my knowledge of constellations goes.  I was walking Bear outside in my neighborhood on the night before he went into 

acute kidney failure, and we saw  a shooting star.  I've never seen an actual shooting star before.  

It was pretty amazing.  Not really like this picture; it kind of twinkles like fireworks.   After seeing it, I had a sense that everything would be OK.  And a couple of weeks later, after a very large vet bill, Bear turned out OK and I landed a new job.

Last night we saw the crescent moon, Venus, and Jupiter combo.  That was really amazing.  The planets looked like they were Christmas lights on our neighbor's house.  To look up and see planets so close (well, relatively speaking) is mesmerizing.  I tried to take a picture, but this is the best shot (the crescent moon is in the upper left hand corner, then the lower dot is Venus and the dot to the right and slightly higher is Jupiter) (and click on the picture to make it bigger):

 Bear, however, was less enthralled.

He doesn't get bogged down by astronomical happenings.  He just wants a cozy spot to sleep.

 

Happy Thanksgiving

This year, particularly the last week or so, I have a lot to be thankful for.  

I'm thankful that my precious Bear aced his follow-up tests and his kidneys are normal.  He'll live a normal life; he won't need medication or shots; and he can eat normal doggy food.  So now we spoil him shamefully and kiss and hug him at any opportunity.  We even let him sleep on the couch.

I'm also thankful my pretty kitty is still a pretty kitty.  

She's been the bargain pet this year - cheaper to adopt, and no vet trips.  Apparently cats aren't interested in eating a whole plate of brownies - and thus requiring a trip to the emergency vet to induce vomiting - or eating a container of Advil - causing acute kidney failure.  Which all supports the fact that cats are far superior and more intelligent that dogs.

And, other than Bear being alive and healthy, I am most thankful that I GOT A NEW JOB!  I've been miserable at my current position since last December.  I've been contemplating completely drastic career changes, disappearing to Rio de Janeiro, and careening off bridges.  But thankfully I found a great new position working with my state's legislature.  I start in two weeks.  

Which means, I quit the day before Thanksgiving.  It was really difficult for me to do, despite my intense hatred for my job.  I wish it had gone down something like this.

But instead I took the advice of most on-line job resources and tried a more diplomatic approach that went surprisingly well.  

Just don't tell you local senator/representative that I semi-regularly watch The Hills.  They may not understand.

Finally, I'm thankful I got my Christmas present early:

So I could bake a bangin' apple pie for Thanksgiving:

A Little Relief

Thankfully, we were able to take Bear home yesterday.  His kidney levels came back to normal, after heavy IV fluid therapy, and stayed normal after the vet weaned him off the fluids.  Now we wait and hope his levels stay good and get him checked out again on Thursday and cross our fingers that his kidneys are still in good shape.  

After a week without our buddy, it is so refreshing to have him back, especially because he's still a happy playful pup.

There is, however, someone in our household who is not happy about this.

Elsa reverted to her scaredy-cat ways back when we first got Bear. Back then, she hid in her room for nearly a month.  Yesterday, she hid behind the TV.  (Ignore the dust.)

But she's working through the pain of sharing her home once again.  Where yesterday she was hiding, today, she's progressed to staring with scorn and disdain at the dog.  That's the kitty sitting underneath the cabinets on the right-hand side of the picture, glaring at the pup.

They did manage to stage their own "Canton's Next Top Model," though.  The judges thought Elsa's look was very commercial, maybe not "Top Model," but she could definitely have a career in print.  They especially liked the little droplet of milk on her mouth.

The judges were very impressed with Bear.  They said he has the "kidney-failure chic" look down, very high fashion - and very "Top Model."  Note the shaved rings on his arms from where his IV's were hooked up.  So fierce.

Sigh

In very sad, "I-wouldn't-wish-on-my-worst-enemy" news, my doggy Bear is in intensive care at the emergency vet.  

He got into a bottle of Advil that caused acute kidney failure.  

We find out tomorrow what the long-term prognosis will be, and most importantly, whether he'll have a long-term prognosis.  

So for anyone reading this, I would ask that you say a little prayer for my little Bear.  He really needs the help and we really need our buddy back.  Even Elsa, who despite having free reign over the house in Bear's absence, seems somewhat forlorn at the lack of being chased around the house.

Quick Hills Nugget

In an earlier post, I wondered whether LC still had the dog she adopted with Lo.  I came across this photo today:

I'm glad she still has the pup and I'm glad it's not one of those little obnoxious dogs.  But I bet those Hills girls are jealous they couldn't get their hands on the cutest dog ever:

And, seriously, what proper dog owner could ever walk a dog in heels?  I'm a heel-a-phobe, and I fell on my rear the day I attempted to take Bear out in my dress flats.  Now I must rock sneakers with my professional attire for our pre- and post-work walks. 

The End of the World as I Know It

It finally happened.  I turned 30.  

It happened awhile ago, but I've been remiss in updating my blog lately.  It came and went without much fanfare; and, quite honestly, more important things have transpired in the wake of the death of my 20's:

Wall Street tanked.  Then rebounded.  Then tanked again.  All I know is that my measly 401(k) has less money in it now than at the beginning of this year, despite my weekly contributions.

My friend ran the NYC marathon.  I ran down my driveway after taking the garbage out.  Hmph.  Inspiration to go back to the gym.

Americans finally made a decent choice.  I have to say, I was undecided up until the end.  I was a disenfranchised Hilary voter and it was difficult to accept what Obama had to say.  However, given the voter turnout and the excitement surrounding his win, I think at the very least this election has restored hope in those who had no faith in our system that government can work for the people.

So, I enter my 30's knowing that life will stink, get better, stink again, get better again... you need to find motivation to get you through the race and surround yourself with people who will motivate you... and even in the bleakest of times, we can bring about change by exercising our rights and participating in government and society.

  

The Hills Rewind, Vol. 5

Well, well, well.  I didn't think anyone really cared.  I thought these little posts were just my way to recap events so my bad memory wouldn't forget.  So I was pleasantly surprised to hear that people (other than my one dedicated commentator) actually read this thing!  But now I feel some pressure to deliver good material. 

Anyways, I'm back to being behind in my not-so-loyal Hills watching.  Got caught up on the post-Cabo episode tonight.  Two comments:

1.  Poor Stephanie Pratt.

Although I generally think she is a hot mess and clearly does not apply anything she may be learning in fashion school to her daily get-ups, I have to say - people need to give her an f'-in break.  In the post-Cabo episode, apparently everyone believes that her new boyfriend, who has no prior relationship to anyone else in the Hills cast of characters, should confront Brody Jenner about his past comments to Stephanie.

What planet do these people live on?  Am I missing something?  That's like going to your high school reunion and asking your husband to beat up the boy who flicked boogers at you.  What do Brody's past comments have to do with Stephanie's current boyfriend?  NOTHING.  There is no reason for her boyfriend to even raise the subject.  OK, maybe, maybe if Brody disrespected Stephanie in her boyfriend's presence or during the time they are dating - maybe then could we impose some obligation on this dude to do something.  But, really, he's dating Stephanie Pratt.  Cut the guy some slack.

People, I have a degree in Philosophy, with an emphasis on ethics, so I should know.

2.  And finally, if I were a single lady, I'd be pretty pissed that vapid girls like Audrina could throw away dreamy Australian hunks.  If I were a single lady, I'd book a Christmas Eve flight to Australia and hope for the best.

The Hills Rewind, Vol. 4, Plus Gossip Girl Postscript

Back-to-back Hills reporting may be a clear sign I need to get a life. Actually, any almost-thirty-something reporting on The Hills is probably in need of something better to do.  

Oh, who am I kidding? What else is there?

This week, I leave you with a philosophical query:  if LC clapped in the woods, would it be filmed for this season?

Point being, is Lauren even on this show anymore?  Is anything happening in her life?

  

Gossip Girl p.s.: There's been a long absence of Connecticut

in the minds of the teen set ever since Gilmore Girls ended that has now been filled by the wannabe Elis of Gossip Girl.  

Yes, my friends, Connecticut can be glamorous, but I share Nate's quandary.  Yale or USC?  No question. Fight on.

The Hills Rewind, Vol. 3

So I continue to be one week behind in my Hills commentary.  Please forgive me.  

Well, nothing much happened anyways, so it shouldn't be difficult to forgive my delay.  Heidi wrote a note to - blah, blah, blah...  I can't even bear to write about it.

My comments this week are thus brief and focused on the front-runner in the "Most Vapid Character on T.V." contest: Audrina.

Watching her do anything makes me cringe in fear that I once may have been so mindless.  It's painful!  Behind her annoyingly empty eyes is a vast expanse of nothingness.

I can only hope that young women can find more suitable role models elsewhere...    

Today I found some comforting news for Elsa.  Although in general she does not lack self-esteem, even the most centered, confident among us can get down.  Even cats.  Especially cats with unique features, like Elsa's extra toes.

So it was refreshing to see a model/actress plastered on my Yahoo front page talking about her extra fingers.

  

Seems the new Bond girl is a fellow polydactyl.  

And that makes Elsa and her 36 little toes happy.  Check out Wikipedia for more info on polydactyl cats.  Elsa apparently is a rare little polydactyl kitty because not only does she have opposable "thumbs" on her front paws, she also has extra toes on her back paws.

And can you believe nobody wanted to give her a home...   

The Hills Rewind Vol. 2

I'm a little behind in my Hills recapping due to a general disdain for work that is ruining my life.  But today I took matters into my own hands and called out sick.  So I caught up on my t.v. shows, Hills included, and present my thoughts.

Never date a man who is rude to your mother.  Especially one who is flagrantly condescending on national television.  I hope Heidi watches the playback and gains some insight.  I cannot believe that any daughter with an ounce of respect for her mother could continue to date (in fact live with) a guy after watching her mother breakdown in tears over it.  Judging by the obnoxious plethora of canned photo-ops with "Speidi," I can only surmise that Heidi is an awful wretch of a person and she and Spencer were made for each other.

And I don't know who is the hotter mess - Stephanie or Doug.  I do know that whatever Whitney was wearing on her feet at Doug's party was rockin'.  

Finally, who could have guessed that Brody Jenner would be the moral compass of the show?  

That's the rewind.

The Un-Official Motto

The Thirty Year War takes place in the Northeast.  And not Long Island or Boston or anywhere where people speak with distinctive dialects.  So we love to hear other accents, especially Southern accents.  Especially because Southern people tend to be quite nice - and really, anything said in a Southern accent just comes out nicer - and people in my state tend to have a reputation for being cold.

So yesterday I was on the phone with a paralegal at a law office in Connecticut.  I had never met her, but we had spoken a few times and she is quite obviously a Southern transplant.  It was a nice diversion to speak with her because she was just so nice.  On a daily basis, I deal with crotchety old people, so a pleasant Southern woman is a good change of pace.  We were chatting about this and that and she was lamenting on her day and about people giving her a hard time and she said, in the most wonderful Southern drawl, 

"Everyone's tryin' to lick to red off my candy - and I just won't let them!"

Ha!  I'm assuming that's a Southern expression, because I've never heard it.  And if I had heard it, I would be using it at every possible occasion.  I love it!  It is now the un-official motto of the Thirty Year War.  

The Great Bang Debacle

It's been over a week since my horrible haircut.  Luckily, my bangs are slowly growing out.  As you may recall, I finally succumbed to my fear of hairstylists only to have my worst nightmare come true.  I asked for Katie Holmes bangs...

... and got "Dorothy Hamill as interpreted by a 4-year-old" bangs instead.  Boo.

But I guess a little levity when dealing with the tremendous horror of an awful haircut is all you can do to get through the experience.  So I am grateful for one of my piano students, "D," who looked at my hair this weekend (when he should have been playing a song) and told me that if I put my hair back in a ponytail (it's way too short to do), my hair would look great and "all the boys would go 'HOLLA' (imagine a little 8-year-old doing a dance move with his arms)!"

Funny - but I ain't no Holla Back Girl.