Katastrophies & Other Important News

Just watched the first episodes of The City – LOVE IT.  Same vibe as The Hills, only not as played out since it’s all new.  When I say “vibe” I mean still gossipy, still good eye candy (for the fashion and what not) and still the same drama – just a different zip code and weather forecast.  But for those of you that watched let me take a moment to talk about little miss socialite Olivia.  I guess I must be the snobbiest of the snobs because I have always felt and believed strongly that most people who are “socialites” are wanna-bes because people who are truly old money and classy don’t go around talking about how well to do they are or name drop or talk about their debutant balls (and no this is not a good time for a crude joke, this is serious).  Nothing says “needy” and “insecure” like this statement, “Oh my gosh nice to meet you, I am having one of my big dinner parties this weekend, which reminds me of my debutant ball, where I wore one of my first pairs of Jimmy Choos, which reminds me that I know Jimmy Choo himself.”  OH my gosh I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.  Which is, of course, exactly what the executive producers of The City wanted me to do upon their introduction of Olivia (who probably just got the job at DVFB because she was pretty for the sheer purpose of being on the show).  So anyway, that’s how I feel about that – if you are really a socialite and rich and stuff you won’t have to tell me it will come up naturally or I will discover it one day when you drive your Mercedes to my house after attending a charity ball (or something like that, but you get the point).

Yesterday I spent an hour of my life watching an “all new” E True Hollywood story on Jennifer Anniston.  While I told myself that it probably wasn’t that “all new” I couldn’t stop watching.  I mean, I have already seen the old True Hollywood story on her, and quite frankly not that much has changed except maybe a few more failed relationships (sounds harsh but it’s true).  Anyway, perhaps I couldn’t turn my eyes because she is just so darn likeable and cute.  And what’s more, I can’t help but feel a pain in my heart STILL that she and Brad didn’t last.  And for some reason it truly tugs at my soul that he ended up with that orphan adopting hussy.  Ok, maybe “orphan adopting” and “hussy” don’t really go together but I still don’t like her, her and her big lips and small hips – something just ain’t right I tell ya.

I followed up my Jennifer marathon today by going to see Marley and Me.  I knew I would get all weepy but I didn’t realize I would get so attached to Jennifer and Owen. Geez, I felt like I was leaving my best friend’s house as we walked out of the theater.  I highly recommend the movie, even if you aren’t a huge dog fan it’s still a great flick, and if you are a dog fan you will fall in love with it.  Some of you have probably read the book – me, I like to wait for the movies to come out because I hate to spoil a good movie by reading the book first.  And it’s really a time saver too.

Is it bad that Christmas is not even technically over and I am already plotting about when I am going to take down my décor and how I am going to organize it and that I will probably need to do a good cleaning at the same time and that next year I will supervise Chad in his outdoor decorating and probably sketch out a visual for him beforehand and that I vow to have a real live holiday cocktail party next year (schedules be darned) and that I am thinking about table decorations and how I want to do more Christmas cards next year as I type.  Yeah, it’s probably bad.  This is what happens, this is what I do.  I skip over days, months, and even years in anticipation of what is to come.  I plot, plan, think and envision myself right out of the present.  Chad sees it as the little bit of crazy that makes me endearing (at times) but I see it as an overextension of my strengths.  At any rate it just can’t be good to live so far in the future.  Who are those people that live in the moment, make last minute decisions, and are easy going?  Who are they and when are they going to show up to teach me how to do the same!  I’ve always dreamed of being that laid back cool chick who everyone can just chill with….but I end up being the high strung mom-type instead (dang it).  Despite my best efforts I can’t help but stress about being late, fret over proper coaster usage, and cringe on the inside when people insist on putting “at” at the end of every sentence (“Where did you get that AT?” is not necessary, see “Where did you get that?” works just fine).

Anyhow, I am not quite sure of the purpose of this particular rant other than to keep me from taking down the Christmas tree and writing out my cards for next year.  I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas – it’s time to start writing out your New Year’s resolutions!  One of mine is to start living in the moment more and stop stressing about the future.  So I had better get going on that list, otherwise I might find myself in the middle of March not having accomplished anything, eek!  (Crap, I am already failing.)

P.S. It would be totally awesome if I could STOP being sick.  I was sick, then well for about 5 days, and now I am sick again, and I had this horrible headache all day today (Merry Christmas).  So yeah, it would help if the weather would level out – either be cold or hot TEXAS, get a hold of yourself!

So when was the last time you really watched a Victoria’s Secret commercial (boys, you are not allowed to answer).  Seriously.  I may or may not be watching The Hills at the moment and I happened to actually watch an entire commercial (since I couldn’t wait until later which would have allowed me to fast forward through all the boring fluff so I could get straight to the good fluff).  Anyway, you only need to glance at one of their catalogs these days to know that the average girl doesn’t lounge around in her bra and underwear, nor does she have that “I just got out of the ocean and let my hair dry in the sun” look.  So back to this commercial.  I can’t remember the last time I ran in slow motion through my mansion in a giant red ball gown skirt and a matching bra throwing small packages to my best girlfriends who were wearing equally glamorous garb.  Oh wait, maybe last New Year’s……no, no, that wasn’t it…..perhaps it was my last birthday….or that random Saturday afternoon…..nope, it’s official I have never done anything of the sort.  But I will still buy my standard 5 for $25 this year and probably a pair of PJs too.  But something tells me I won’t look quite as sexy as the VS models in my glasses, tube socks and no makeup.

P.S. Did you just listen to Heidi give her explanation of the time and space theorem?  Um, wait, rewind, what was that Heidi?  You feel like you are 19 and time keeps passing….and then you pass out……and everything keeps moving…..and then you get surgeries…..and then, wait – what?  It’s just enough to make your little bleach blonde head spin in circles!  And yet, even if you only feel 19 trust me, you aren’t, and in 3 years you will wake up and all the sudden you will be 45.  It just happens like that.

P.P.S. That darn commercial is on again.  I get it, you are beautiful and you like to wear your bra with no shirt. 

P.P.P.S. I think I might have to watch Bromance just so I can make fun of it.

Friday afternoon was our annual Christmas lunch.  Chad did his husbandly duties (no not those) by attending and afterwards we headed home (in separate vehicles) where we planned to change and head to the mall for our annual shopping trip together.  Well, of course shopping is more like a biweekly experience for me but Chad literally only shops once a year.  No really, it’s true.  Anyway, he arrived home before I did, probably because I consider the posted speed limit more than just a suggestion from the state of Texas.  Upon my arrival I noticed that something was amuck in the kitchen, “Chad, Chad?”  No reply, so I shout again, “I’m on the phone!” he replies loudly from him man room/loan office.  Ok, so I notice that my fancy schmancy Lazy Suzan/Spice racks shelf is turned open.  Hmmm, I doubt Chad did any cooking in his 20 minutes alone, nor would he know where I kept the sugar and cooking spray anyway.  Then I spotted my bag of flour, ripped open from top to bottom.  Definitely not the handy work of my kitchenly challenged husband, no, this reeked more of our four legged roommate (whose last rent check bounced,  who never contributes to the grocery bill, refuses to do laundry and insists of shedding on every surface – while protesting by barking loudly at the vacuum when it’s time to clean).  Yep, the dog had pushed open the spice shelf, ripped open the flour only to discovered that flour has no taste.  But he was there just long enough to make a mess on the floor and as we would soon discover a nice white fur paste. 

For those of you inexperienced with flour, think paper mache, glue, and all things sticky and gooey.  So yeah, Chewy STILL has some white spots of gunk in his fur…until we get a chance to chase him down, corner him and force wash him.  But here is the amazing part of it all…..Chad had no clue.  He walked in, passed through the kitchen and the whole scene went unnoticed.  I am still in awe of men’s ability to block out things on the peripheral.  That’s probably why they can focus so well on work and other important things like Call of Duty Eight and Fantasy Football.

GUILTY UNTIL PROVEN INNOCENT (which has yet to happen).

It’s no secret that women are excellent multitaskers.  And yes, that is a word Word.  I have no doubt that we are wired that way to specifically handle all of the various things that fall on our plate.  Men, well, they can multitask too (but that’s a closely held secret, manly multitasking is only to be utilized for video games and other leisure related things).  So tonight was the ultimate display of my multitasking skills.  I was in the middle of making dinner, spaghetti and turkey meat sauce, and I saw an opportunity to play a little Wii tennis.  Being that my skills have increased so much my opponents were more than worthy causing me to up my game.  “Swing, swing, back hand, serve…..check the sauce….swing, swing, win…..put in the noodles…..swing…PHONE CALL…..talk, swing, swing, talk, pause, check the noodles, hang up, win, DINNER IS READY!”  All the while Chad, the dog and my sister sat happily doing one thing at a time – which was nothing.

Well, if there is anyone still reading my very sad blog these days this will be my first entry in a while. And I certainly have not been consistent, so I apologize – or who knows, maybe you needed a nice little break from my sarcasm, amazing wit and dog stories (I seriously doubt it though). I won’t really recap the last few weeks except to say that Chad has been a single parent to Chewy, and I drove myself to some sort of sinus infection induced by stress, the weather, and flat out fatigue. Things have been so busy that, GASP, my roots must be two inches long by now (I dare not even look in the light anymore). But thank goodness that will be remedied this Thursday (I heart you Karen). Yes, I have completely let myself go – I won’t even mention my legs, but I will say that I could use a good manicure, perhaps a massage, and definitely a good foot scrub.

Anyway, enough about me (is that really even possible?), Christmas is coming! In all my hurry I have had time to do a little on-line shopping here and a little errand running there – thank goodness. My sister is staying with us this year so it has made preparations a little more fun, almost like having a little one in the house. I decorated the tree before Thanksgiving (and it’s a good thing too otherwise it would not have been done) but we have a little added bonus this year to the season’s décor – Chad put up Christmas lights for the first time ever. And bless his little heart if they are the cutest little lights on the street. I mean granted the red ones are actually purple and the ones that line the sidewalk hang a little to the left but imperfections be darned – he gave it his best and that’s all that matters!

Real quick before I go I must mention the Hills episode last night. I need to point out three things:

 

1. If you have to get her drunk before you ask then getting married probably isn’t a good idea.

 

 

2. You CAN’T just get married in Mexico in a night you have to:

    

   1. Wait 2-3 days, a legal waiting period

    

    

   2. Have a certified copy of your birth certificate

    

    

   3. Take a blood test

    

 

 

3. How is it that you get married at night, wake up the next morning and watch your wedding video that appears to be IN THE DAY TIME?? Hmmm, so odd. They must have amazing lighting in Mexico.

 

That’s all I can say about this week’s episode. Oh, and Whitney continues to amaze me with her eclectic ensembles – if she weren’t on this show and extremely gorgeous I think she might look like a homeless person from 1985. But since she has achieved semi celebrity status and happens to look like a model we all let it slide that she wears one piece short suits with flower prints and long old man vests. If only we were all so lucky or so bold.

Last night Chad and I took some “fun money” (which is money neither earned nor expected, just a pleasant bonus) and bought ourselves a Wii!  We were going to wait until Christmas but at the rate those things fly off the shelves we figured we should go ahead, besides we aren’t eight and it’s not like we needed to wait until Christmas morning to unwrap a gift we bought for ourselves.  So, last night we broke in bowling.  It’s one of my favorites because it’s just like real bowling, which I love.  And even better, we didn’t have to rent any disgusting shoes, endure obnoxious people, or stick our fingers in holes that have seen at least 50 other fingers in just that one day.

Something that you may not know about me – I am insanely competitive, to a fault.  Like I pout if I don’t win and threaten to give up if I am too far behind.  While I am allowed to celebrate with cheers, claps, jumps up and down and various other loud and boisterous forms of “in your face” moves, you ARE NOT.  Seems fair to me.  So poor Chad even when he wins he loses. 

Last night was fine, even though he did win we just played one round and then tried to watch a movie, which I did not make it through – it turns out that 14 hour days take their toll and my body began to shut down at about 10:30.  Anyway, this morning (Ok, it was afternoon) when Chad wiped the sleep from his eyes and the fuzz from his teeth he hurried downstairs and stood longingly in front of the TV (where I was watching What Not To Wear).  Without a word I said, “You wanna play Wii?”  His smile and child like coos were enough to signal to me that yes he did want to. 

We played two rounds of bowling which I sadly lost.  I resisted even trying tennis because I had played once before and it was quite the embarrassment.  So after losing in bowling the last thing I wanted was to shame myself even more.  But Chad prevailed and we began.  The irony is that I played tennis in high school and was pretty good but I lacked any confidence that my Wii skills would be equal to my real life skills from 10 years ago. 

Once we got going I actually began to win, wahhooo!!!  But while Chad’s style was standing in one place simply maneuvering the controller (which is I think the way you are supposed to do it) I was all over the rug as if I were really on the court.  I was swinging like I really had a 4 pound racket in my hand instead of a .5 pound numb chuck (which is the controller for those of you not versed in your Wii speak).  I was moving across the rug as if it were really the length of the court and I was……busting my ass on the wood floor with my slippery socks on?  Yep, I went in to really lay the smack down and DOWN I went right there in front of the Christmas tree.  I laid there silently laughing so hard that I couldn’t speak and Chad, well, he tried to sputter out, “Are you ok?” in the midst of his laughter.  Mind you my spill took place immediately following his warning that I was just too high strung and that I needed to calm down.  Whatever, shows what he knows.  Every real champion is serious about their craft and how do I expect to win Wii Wimbledon if I don’t put everything I have into my moves.

Anyhow, while I was able to recover from my first injury the second one put me out of the game for the day (or at least the afternoon).  Yeah, I backed up too far and hit my ankle bone on the bottom part of the couch (which is wood and not cushy fluff).  Chad sent me packing upstairs until I could get my killer moves under control.

Chad and I have what I think will be an eternal battle.  I only eat certain colors of candy while he is a bit more accepting and enjoys all of the colors.  My favorite color, by far, of any and all candy is red.  While I know red is not a flavor it is usually synonymous with cherry or at least watermelon or strawberry.  He seems to get quite perturbed when he returns to a stash of Swedish Fish or jelly beans and realizes that all that awaits him are oranges and yellows (definitely the red headed stepchildren of candy, in my opinion anyway).  But I make no apologies for my candy eating habits.  Quite frankly life is short – so why not eat the red ones first.  And then the purple or greens (depending on the type of candy).  For the record, pink is a derivative of red and sometimes takes the number one spot in a certain category of candy, for instance there are no red Sweet Tarts because they are all pastels which makes pink my #1 favorite color/flavor of Sweet Tarts.  Are you tracking me?

I just thought it important to share these deep thoughts with someone and since I know Chad will merely give me the stink eye I figured this was my only outlet.  Plus when it comes to hot topics – global warming, the new presidency, terrorism, Barbara Walters’ ageless 79 year old face – I hardly see it appropriate to bring up my candy color ranking system.  But I do think it’s a good metaphor for life.  Why should I waste any time, effort or stomach space consuming candy that I don’t like when I have the option of only eating the ones I LOVE.  Stick with me here – so why do we (as a society) waste so much of our lives doing things that we think we are supposed to do just to make others happy?  And don’t take my complicated scenario to the extreme, I am not talking about normal stuff like showering, paying bills, educating your children I am only referring to the things we do that make us unhappy but we continue because we worry about what the world, our spouses, our parents, friends, etc. might think if we make a change. 

I say if you don’t like your job get a different one.  If you don’t like winter 2008’s trend of leggings then don’t wear them (although I can’t understand why, they are expandable pants Heaven if you ask me).  If you don’t like your major at school switch it (although I would recommend you stay away from Sociology or you might end up at 29 spilling your guts on some blog).  You get my drift.  Life it too short to spend it eating all the candy that everyone thinks you should eat, pick what you like and don’t feel guilty for not eating the yellow and oranges of the world!

P.S. My analogy may not make sense to anyone else but me, and that’s ok because as I type I am enjoying a delicious bag of only red and green jelly beans that I hand selected from the glorious Jelly Belly bar at Target.  It’s the only bar in town where sleezy men don’t hit on you and nobody throws up on your shoes…although it is right next to the pharmacy so I’m not saying it can’t happen but it probably won’t.