My Own Planet

I’m sorry, but just…no
Last night I was reading an Esquire that someone left in the gym, when I discovered the very interesting fact that Teri Polo is from Delaware. In fact, not only is she from Delaware, but Delaware loves her so much that it has actually given her her own day. I am not making this up. Apparently, they celebrate Teri Polo Day in Delaware.

I offer this tidbit not as proof that Delaware exists, but rather the opposite. Because I mean, really. There just cannot be a state in existence that would give Teri Polo her own day. Granted, she has achieved some measure of recognition lately, what with her ABC sitcom (which I must grudgingly admit to liking) and all of the Meet the Fockers hype. But apparently, Teri Polo Day was created back in 1991, which was nearly 10 years before she even landed the role of Ben’s married girlfriend on Felicity.

I guess, though, that this means I must retract my statement that there are no famous people from Delaware, although I feel that the claim that Teri Polo is truly “famous” is somewhat debatable.

On a related note, I am very excited to report that it is possible that I will get to visit Delaware next month. Plans have not yet been finalized, but when/if I do make it to Delaware, I hope to see one or more of the following things:

1) A sign proclaiming “Delaware: Home of Teri Polo”
2) A free-standing Sbarro
3) Some other form of proof that this state actually exists, because I still don’t believe it

Minnesotans are funny
Not like that. (Well, except for Heather, whom I’m sure will object violently to being classified as a Minnesotan.)

Anyway, no, what I mean is, I have recently discovered that, by and large, Minnesotans are very humorous. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that they’re blanketed under snow for the majority of the year—humor emerges as a sort of coping mechanism. Whatever the case, I can’t say I’m really surprised by this discovery. This is the state, after all, that gave us Garrison Keillor and “Duck, Duck, Gray Duck” (which is actually not so much funny as it is weird, but that’s another post altogether).

I stumbled upon this wealth of Minnesota-based humor when, faced with infrequent updates on many of my regularly read blogs (seriously, Tyrant—American Idol is starting again soon, and I am getting worried about the future of The Alliance), I was forced to broaden my horizons. I did this by turning to the relatively new blogs of Brian and his friends.

Now, I knew Brian vaguely in college, as we lived in the same dorm for a brief period, but I didn’t really know him well enough to ascertain whether or not he was funny. (And it probably didn’t help matters that, on the one social outing we both attended, much of it was spent in the hospital, which is not really the best place to gauge someone’s humor.) Anyway, after reading Brian’s blog, I can now say with total confidence that he is, in fact, very funny. This entry in particular caused the water I was drinking while reading it to find its way into my nasal passages.

Of course, Brian’s blog alone was not enough to occupy my time (Scott, are you getting the point here?), so I soon turned my attention to his friends. I was particularly captivated by the link on his blog that read: “Christa’s Blog—Read at your own risk.” I’m not sure if Brian was purposely trying to be enticing, or if I’m just a sucker for gimmicky ad lines, but I simply had to know what was so dangerous about Christa’s blog. I’m not going to spoil it for you. Read it yourself—you’ll be glad you did.

When I found myself with even more time on my hands (Kella, where have you gone?), I next turned to Jeff, who, although he didn’t quite get the same tantalizing tagline as Christa, also proved himself to be quite hilarious, making it three for three for funny Minnesotans.

I have yet to explore the other offerings set forth by this circle of friends, but I feel I may have the chance to do so soon. (Anne, I’m looking at you.) I have to warn the rest of you blogging Minnesotans, though: My expectations are pretty high.

Overindulgence: bad
During the Christmas season, I have certainly found this maxim to be true when it comes to food (and drink, although that wasn't so much a factor over Christmas as I fear it will be over New Year's), but not so much when it comes to overwrought teen melodramas. Over the past two days, I have watched seven episodes from the Dawson's Creek Season 2 and 3 DVDs I got for Christmas, and I am happy to report that I have not experienced any adverse effects, other than occasionally wanting to throw things at James Van Der Beek's head. But that's to be expected.

Of course, I realize that not everyone feels this way about Dawson's Creek. Like my dad, for instance. His disdain for the show was pretty obvious when he inscribed the tag of my gift with "It's not as good as the dove hunt video." It was even more apparent when he watched part of the Season 3 finale with me on Christmas morning as we were waiting for my mom to get ready. He sat down just as the last scene (arguably my favorite scene in the entire Dawson's Creek lexicon) was coming on.

How the scene is supposed to go:
Joey: I think I'm in love with you.
Pacey: You think, or you know?
Joey: I know.

How the scene went with my dad watching:
Joey: I think I'm in love with you.
Dad: I don't think so!
Clare: Don't ruin it.

I guess we can see where I inherited my habit of making sarcastic comments while watching TV. And while I will be the first to admit that Dawson's Creek deserves more than its fair share of sarcastic comments (particularly any time Dawson is on-screen), there is an appropriate time and place. A good place in this episode, for instance, would be when, in the words of TWoP's Wing Chun, "Dawson's face crumples into the most hideously misguided man-crying scene since Luke Skywalker learned the truth about his father in The Empire Strikes Back." Regrettably, notes on when to best employ sarcastic comments was not one of the special features included on the DVD. Perhaps I should consider giving a tutorial.

And then, eight hours later...
I was home. And in only double the time it normally takes me to get home! Actually, most of the journey wasn't that bad. In fact, when I got past Nashville, I couldn't help but think what great time I was making, which is just never a good idea. Because as soon as I allowed myself such a thought, traffic slowed to a standstill on the interstate. And when I say a standstill, I mean it in the "people getting out of their cars like they're in an R.E.M. video" kind of way. It took me an hour and a half to drive eight miles, at which point I exited and met my dad, who had formulated a shortcut. And while the shortcut did arguably save some time, it also nearly resulted in me getting stuck in the middle of the road on a snow drift.

Oh, well. I'm home now, and I plan to spend tomorrow sledding down our driveway and consuming mass quantities of chocolate. Yay!

I was actually not dreaming of a white Christmas, but whatever
Yeah. So the powers that be have decided to dump about 5 inches of snow and ice on Kentucky just as I am about to head home. The interstate north of my parents' house is closed completely (apparently they had to open up our high-school gym to give travelers a place to crash until the bad weather abates), and the ones south to Nashville aren't looking so hot, either.

On the bright side, if I ever do make it home, perhaps I can get in some cross-country skiing while I'm there.

The most amazing thing I saw last night on The Amazing Race
Nothing. That’s right, nothing. This is because, when I flipped over to CBS a few minutes before the show was supposed to start, I discovered that I was just in time to see the last few seconds of the episode, which apparently came on an hour earlier due to the Kennedy Center Honors broadcast. Not that I would have known that or anything, because far be it for CBS to actually tell us.

You know what would be really amazing? If the CBS promo department could finally get its shit together and, I don’t know, perhaps mention the fact that the show is going to be on at an earlier time when they show the promos for next week at the end of the episode. I’m not suggesting they go all Fox on us and throw it in at every conceivable opportunity. I’m just saying, I would like them to mention it once. Just ONCE. Is that too much to ask? I think not.

Hello, Clintons!
You may not believe this, but it’s true: The Clintons are reading my blog. No, really. I can prove it!

Last week, I finally signed up for a new stat tracker service after having gotten kicked off of ProStats at some indeterminable time (and for some indeterminable reason) in the recent past. Looking back, getting booted from ProStats was a blessing in disguise, as this new stat tracker is super fabulous. It gives me the precise location of every single person who is reading, which is how I found out about the Clintons.

You see, I noticed that I was getting several visits from Chappaqua, New York. Who could I possibly know who lives in Chappaqua, I thought. And then it hit me: the Clintons! Not that I actually know the Clintons personally or anything (I mean, not yet…they seem to be pretty big fans, though, so I can only assume it is just a matter of time), but I did write about that dream I had where I ran into Hillary with a golf cart, so she probably found me by Googling herself and decided that she and Bill should stick around to read about all my wacky antics. So welcome, Bill and Hil!

Note: If you are reading from Chappaqua and you are not in fact Bill and/or Hillary Clinton, please do not spoil this for me. Thanks.

What is it about Mondays that makes me want to do really dumb things?
This morning, on my way to work, I was trying to get my sunglasses out of my purse, but they were intertwined with my gum. When I shook them to free the gum from their grasp, the gum fell down between the passenger seat and the center console. So I did what you should always do when something falls between the seat while you're driving: I looked down to search for it. Of course, I was trying to turn onto the highway at the same time and ended up running up on the curb and nearly hitting the "Walk/Don't Walk" sign. Fortunately, the noise made by my front wheel hitting the curb was enough to get me to look up from my gum search, and I was able to get back on the road before I plowed the front end of my car into the sign. Believe me when I say that the horrified look on the face of the guy behind me was certainly not lost on me.

Also, you would think that, after the debacle that was last New Year's Eve, I would have learned not to spend the entire time at holiday parties gorging myself on hors d'oeuvres while steadily consuming wine. But apparently not. At least I managed to restrain myself before I christened another one of my friends' sinks.

I never want to see another cookie again
This weekend, I have been in the throes of Holiday Baking Extravaganza 2004. Last night, in a very Martha Stewart-like fashion, I was up until nearly 2 a.m. baking cookies. Of course, this was partly due to the fact that I have a very tiny oven and only one cookie sheet, and also partly due to the fact that I interspersed some of the cookie-making with watching American Beauty. Still, I think it's safe to say that I am officially suffering from cookie fatigue, which is not a good thing, because the Holiday Baking Extravaganza is not nearly over. I still need to make a few mini cheesecakes, and possibly a couple more batches of cookies. Ugh. If you don't hear from me for a couple of days, it's probably safe to assume that I'm covered in flour and passed out in front of the oven.

Why have an original idea when you can just copy other people?
Doug and Rachel (UPDATE: and Kristin) already did this little year-in-review survey, and now I'm doing it, too. Because Doug and Rachel (and Kristin) are cool, and I want to be just like them. Please don't jump off a bridge, Doug and Rachel (and Kristin).

1. What did you do in 2004 that you'd never done before?
Experienced the wonder that is Vegas (twice). Drove cross-country. Got laid off. And if things I did that I haven’t done in a while are also allowed in this category, I also asked out a boy, wrote a novel and threw up. Although not in that order.

2. Did you keep your New Year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I don’t remember what my New Year’s resolutions were. Resolution for next year: Remember New Year’s resolutions.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Not that I know of.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
Again, not that I know of.

5. What countries did you visit?
None, although I did knock a few states off my list, including Arizona (which I guess I technically knocked off at the end of 2003), Nevada and Oklahoma. (Although I may have been to Oklahoma before. I could never remember. But now I know for sure.) Sadly, I did not visit “Delaware.”

6. What would you like to have in 2005 that you lacked in 2004?
A house, a dog, a boyfriend (I’m not counting Jon Peter Lewis), my own magazine, the ability to surf. Oh, and Jude Law. I realize some of these expectations may be unrealistic.

7. What dates from 2004 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
May 26, the day I lost my job, which, coincidentally, is also the day that Fantasia Barrino won American Idol, so I’m betting it’s also etched upon her memory.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Writing a novel in a month, probably. OK, definitely.

9. What was your biggest failure?
Getting laid off, though that wasn’t really my fault.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Nothing other than occasional hangover and the random bruises I routinely give myself by running into things.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
A duvet cover at IKEA. I heart IKEA.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
My own, particularly when I finished my novel.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Again, probably my own.

14. What did you spend most of your spare cash on?
Yeah, didn’t really have a lot of spare cash. That whole unemployment thing, you know.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
My road trip with Bri, definitely. And finishing the novel.

16. What song will always remind you of 2004?
“Hallelujah,” both the Buckley and the Cohen versions

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder? Happier.
b) thinner or fatter? Thinner.
c) richer or poorer? Richer.
(Awesome. I’m like Ivana Trump. The “happier” notwithstanding, of course.)

18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
Saved money. Although I did pretty well, all things considered.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Job hunting, although it was a necessary evil.

20. How will you be spending Christmas?
Hopefully not by setting my hair on fire again.

22. Did you fall in love in 2004?
I’ll get back to you on that one.

23. How many one-night stands?
None, that I know of.

24. What was your favorite TV program?
Yeah, I think you all know the many answers to that question by now.

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
I’m sure I probably do. I’ll have to consult the Official Hate List just to be sure, though.

26. What was the best book you read?
I read many excellent books, but I’ve got to go with the classic: On the Road

27. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Jeff Buckley. Much like Holly, I was about a decade late to the party.

28. What did you want and get?
A job

29. What did you want and not get?
A Vespa (But Christmas is coming soon!)

30. What was your favorite film of this year?
Love Actually. I know, I know, it came out in 2003, but I watched it many more times in 2004, so I’m counting it.

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
Watched The O.C. No, really. My friend Sallie even offered to take me out, but I was like, “No! There’s a new episode of The O.C. on!” I know. But I’m going to France next year for my 25th, so shut up.

32.What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Getting to make out with Jude Law. Definitely.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2004?
Pretty much the same as my personal fashion concept in 2003. I did not buy very many new clothes, for once.

34. What kept you sane?
This question relies heavily on the assumption that I was sane, which I feel may be erroneous.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
See numbers 6 and 32.

36. What political issue stirred you the most?
Well, it must have been the election, since I wrote a freaking novel about it.

37. Who did you miss?
All of my friends who live far away. But I was fortunate enough to be able to see most of them throughout the year.

38. Who was the best new person you met?
I’m not sure, but I know it was definitely NOT my stalker.

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2004:
When I was 16, I heard this Luscious Jackson song that was about taking chances when you’re young because if you don’t, you’ll regret it when you’re old, and I thought, “That’s so true.” Of course, then Luscious Jackson fell of the face of the Earth (like seriously, what happened to them?), and I forgot all about the song. But this year, that lesson has come back to me. I can’t say that I’ve always been willing to embrace it, because sometimes I’m too scared or too tired or too lazy, but I’ve tried. Oh, and I also learned to be careful what you wish for. But that doesn’t mean I’ve stopped wishing.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
"And even though it all went wrong,
I'll stand before the lord of song,
With nothing on my tongue but hallelujah."

Someone other than Janice Dickinson’s Quote of the Week
Oh, Janice. You can’t even pull a good one out for the finale? I mean, it was very humorous when you literally jumped on Eva when she won, but that’s not exactly a quote. And it was pretty funny, too, when you referred to Amanda as “Japanda,” but it’s really not comparable to some of your other, finer moments. However, I think perhaps “Japanda” was channeling you when she said the following at the Cover Girl photo shoot:

“I was trying to utilize my inner joy, my appreciation for bunny rabbits and France.”

This is the way the quote was presented on the UPN site, but when I first heard it on the show last night, I originally thought she said “my appreciation for bunny rabbits in France,” which is so much better. Because why are French bunny rabbits more evocative of joy than bunny rabbits in other countries? Still, it’s pretty bizarre. I mean, France? Does France really make her that exuberant? Personally, I’ve always had a rather love-hate relationship with France, particularly Paris. I can’t imagine that thinking about France would really work for me, you know, as a modeling technique. But then again, I am not Amanda. And I am ever so thankful for that.

In other reality news, remember when I expressed shock that the finale of The Apprentice was going to be two hours long? Yeah, well it turns out it’s actually three hours. Three hours. What, in the name of all that is good and pure, are they going to show us for three freaking hours? You know, I never before assumed that the “live grand finale” moniker meant that the episode would play out in real time, but now I’m starting to wonder.

More fun at the post office
Today during lunch, I made the trek to the post office for my annual Holiday Package-Shipping Extravaganza. It wasn’t all that bad, actually. The only snag came when I asked for a postcard stamp. I’ve begun to wonder whether other people actually send postcards anymore, because every time I go to the post office to get a postcard stamp, it routinely takes the person helping me forever to locate them. Anyway, while I was waiting, I perused a helpful sign taped to the counter, instructing patrons on what materials could be considered liquid, fragile, perishable or hazardous. This sign featured pictures of several items that fit into this designation, such as hairspray, paint cans, gasoline, medicine and…uh, a scorpion. No, really. A scorpion. Like, who would ever send a scorpion in the mail? I mean, it seems like a pretty good surprise for someone you don’t really like, but it hardly seems worth the trouble inherent in trying to get it into a box to mail it. Plus, as the sign suggests, you’d probably run into some complications at the post office.

Pointless wastes of time
Apparently I know way too much about TV, but have only adequate knowledge of Hillary Duff (which, trust me, is still way more knowledge than I ever wanted to have of Hillary Duff).

The most amazing thing I saw last night on The Amazing Race
That would have to be Adam, in the sausage factory, saying, “I’m surprised Jonathan isn’t here, because he’s the biggest wiener there is.” Which might just be the lamest joke ever in the entire history of lame jokes, but it made me laugh. Because it’s true.

However, Jonathan appears to be not just your average wiener, but rather an abusive wiener. I was going to give the most amazing thing to him (for saying that he knew he could make sausage because he saw Lucy do it on I Love Lucy, because Lucille Ball is such an accurate measure of one’s ability to complete a task efficiently), but after I saw the way he treated Victoria at the pit stop, I just couldn’t bring myself to give him any credit for anything. For a while, Miss Alli has been convinced that there’s a domestic-violence vibe to Jonathan and Victoria’s relationship, but I’ve always thought she was reading too much into things. But after what I saw last night, I think she may have a point. Because when you respond to your spouse’s tears by shoving her? Yeah, something’s not right there.

I knew I couldn’t hold out forever
But that didn’t stop me from trying as long as I could. However, as of this morning, I am no longer an eBay virgin.

I may in fact be the last person in the world to join the eBay craze. Even my mom has bought stuff off of eBay. But I resisted, mostly because I saw the havoc eBay hath wrought on the lives of my friends. (I’m thinking specifically of Adrian’s John Lennon tapestry here—and I suspect you are, too. Especially if you’re Sara.)

But this holiday season, my eBay resistance proved ultimately futile. My sister just moved to West Virginia, so I wanted to get her the now-infamous “It’s All Relative in West Virginia” T-shirt as a Christmas present. Of course, far be it for me to actually have the foresight to purchase this item earlier this year, when it was still at Abercrombie & Fitch. Now, the only place to get the T-shirt is on eBay. (And you can’t even find the Abercrombie version there, which is just as well with me, since I generally abhor Abercrombie with every fiber of my being.) So I took the eBay plunge and ordered the shirt for her. And it was…not bad, actually, which is kind of scary. Next thing you know, I’ll be buying hideous tapestries emblazoned with the likenesses of famous musicians.

What happens when you’ve been friends with someone for ten years
A rough transcript of a conversation I had with Jeff the other night about our Christmas presents:

Me: You are going to be so surprised when you see your Christmas present. It’s so awesome! You will get hours of enjoyment out of it.
Jeff: You will get hours of enjoyment out of your Christmas present, too.
[Pause]
Jeff: Are we getting each other the same thing for Christmas?
Me: I don’t know, are we?
Jeff: Well, the thing I’m getting you is also something I would want.
Me: Yeah, the thing I’m getting you is something I would want.
[Pause]
Me: Oh my God, we are getting each other the same thing!
Jeff: Oh, well. I still want it.
Me: Yeah, me too.

Justin was wrong
I hate to say that, because, in the few years that I've known him, I've found Mr. Marciniak's taste to be unfailingly excellent. But I must respectfully disagree and say that I did not find Ocean's Twelve to be better than the first film.

In fact, it wasn't even on the same level as the first film, mostly because it tried too hard to surpass it. Ocean's Eleven was so cool because it was unassuming in its coolness, whereas Ocean's Twelve was all, "Hey, remember how cool we were back then? Look how much cooler we can be now! Look, look!" And that's just not cool.

Plus, there was far, far too little George Clooney in a movie in which he supposedly plays the title character. One of the best things about the first film was the chemistry between Clooney and Brad Pitt. Indeed, this is also one of the best things about the second film--problem is, it occurs far too rarely. Instead, the focus seems to be on re-working that same chemistry between Pitt and Matt Damon, which, although both are excellent in their respective roles, just doesn't work.

That said, it's still an entertaining film. And a little George Clooney is better than no George Clooney at all.

Merry Christmas, from your friends at the Alabama Department of Revenue
So it’s official: The bureaucracy of the state of Alabama hates me. (The feeling, I can assure you, is mutual.) Yesterday, I got a letter from the Department of Revenue, saying that I had been randomly selected to participate in a survey about liability insurance. Basically, I just have to fill out this form with my insurance information and send it back to them. Sounds simple enough, right? But if I don’t do it within 30 days (or if they somehow don’t get the letter, which, considering the history of my correspondence with state agencies, seems highly possible), my vehicle registration will be suspended.

I have a hard time believing that, after all the hours I’ve spent at the courthouse, trying to get various vehicle-related complications straightened out, they just “happened” to come across my name randomly. I’m probably on some kind frequent-customer list or something, and they just wanted one more excuse to torture me. Well done, guys.

Appropriate song lyric of the week
If in the evening,
All you do is watch TV
‘Cause you’re too tired for anything else,
You’re just like me.
—The Perishers, “Weekends”

Is it just me, or did last night’s TV offerings pretty much suck across the board? First, like Harbor School would ever actually call its winter formal “The SnO.C.” Seriously. And how many times are we going to have to watch the same recycled storyline? Ooh, Ryan and Marissa and Seth and Summer are dating new people! Wait, no they’re not! Wait, but they are! Oh, but they’re not! Oh, but…I just don’t care anymore. Make up your mind, O.C., and let’s get on with things.

Next up, on The Apprentice, the Donald pretty much tells us that Kelly’s going to win. Way to keep the suspense alive there, big guy. And yet, even though we know the outcome, we’re still supposed to sit through a two-hour finale next week? Not bloody likely.

By the time E.R. came on, I was so weary of all the bad television that I couldn’t even bring myself to care when Chen killed her dad. Ugh. At least all these shows are either going on hiatus for the holiday season or going away altogether. Not that I’ll really know what to do with myself when that happens, because…you know, I’m too tired for anything else but bad TV.

J. Alexander’s Quote of the Week
I’m sorry, I just can’t give Janice the quote this week after she failed to say anything remotely random or amusing. (Apparently there was quite the bonanza last week, which I unfortunately missed.) And since the show made the poor, poor decision to get rid of Norelle, I have no choice but to fall back on my old stand-by, J. Alexander.

“I’ve been throwing the kitchen sink at you, and instead of throwing back a bathtub, you’re throwing me like, a little splash of bathwater [mimes being splashed with bathwater]!” –J., to Ann

As humorous as that crazy metaphor was, the best part was when Ann tried to retell it in an interview and was just like, “J. says he’s been throwing the kitchen sink at me, and…uh, whatever the rest of that metaphor was…” Yeah. I think that speaks for itself.

You go to enough art gallery openings...
...And eventually, your picture's bound to end up on the gallery's Web site. Of course, it also helps when you know the designated photographer of the evening and he insists on taking a picture of you. (Knowing the photographer also comes in handy when your eyes are closed in the first picture he takes--that way, you can make him re-take it without feeling like TOO much of an ass.)

Just in case you're wondering, the bags that Sallie and I are standing next to are made entirely out of duct tape. Is that the coolest thing you've ever seen, or what?

The most amazing thing I saw last night on The Amazing Race
This must have been the "adult" episode of TAR6, from the Girls Gone Wild: Lac Rose scene (complete with the requisite lingering "bamp-chicka-bamp-bamp" shot of Kris's breasts) to a topless Gus (whose breasts, I might add, are much bigger than Kris's, yet somehow did not merit their own "bamp-chicka-bamp-bamp" shot) to Don's observation that "The finger of fate has diddled us once again" (which I realized might have been his attempt to use a less vulgar version of "fuck," in which case it failed miserably).

However, my vote for amazingness this week goes unequivocally to Jonathan's blue spotted faux-fur bucket hat. Because...how? And, for the love of God, why? What would possess a grown man to ever wear something like that, much less on television? Even as someone who has been schooled in the art of Fame Whore Fashion 101 by no less than the master himself, Ryan Seacrest, I can honestly say that that hat reaches new levels of hideousness. It looks like the alien spawn of Lil' Kim's wardrobe. I just hope he had it custom-made, because the thought that there might be more of those hats running around out there...well, that just scares me.

A frightening realization
The other day when I got home from work, I was struck by a disturbing thought: Somehow, completely inadvertently, I have become Mr. Rogers. It's true! Every day I come home (usually from the gym) and take off my jacket, slipping on my trusty cardigan. Then I take off my shoes (although I usually manage to resist the urge to throw one of them into the air and catch it, looking inordinately pleased with myself) and put on my slippers. However, I do not sing a song about wanting to be your neighbor while doing this, so that's good. Nor do I immediately stage a puppet show afterward, so that's good, too. Perhaps there's hope for me yet.

Things that make me happy
My Christmas tree, for one. I have always loved Christmas trees. Apparently when I was little, my mom took me to Wal-Mart or some such store and was pushing me in the cart through the part of the Christmas section where they have all the different trees. According to legend, I turned to her in complete amazement and asked, "Is this wonderland?" (I know. I was such a darling child.)

Now that I'm all grown up and have a tree of my own, I am only slightly less awed by its beauty. There's just something about white Christmas lights that does it for me every time. I even plug the tree in when I first get up in the morning, and those of you who have seen me when I first get up in the morning know that this is no small task. In fact, I love my Christmas tree so much that I'm considering keeping it up all year round, much like the crazy psychiatrist in Running With Scissors.

Then again, it is taking up quite a considerable amount of space in my living room. And I wouldn't want anyone thinking I'm a crazy psychiatrist or anything.

You know what else makes me happy? Getting mail, especially when it's a card from one of my former NaNoWriMo partners (Kate), congratulating me on sticking with it.

"At times like these, continuing with one's life seems impossible, and eating the entire contents of one's fridge seems inevitable."

It's possible that I might have just done the stupidest thing I've ever done in my life. And for someone who has done more than a few stupid things in her life (this springs immediately to mind), that is quite the accomplishment.

Ugh.

Bah humbug!
Whatever holiday spirit I managed to cultivate (in spite of a nasty hangover) this morning by listening to Christmas tunes was eradicated the moment I stepped into Target this afternoon. I didn't find a single item on my Christmas list (granted, I was only there to look for one item, but still), but I did find approximately 7,000 screaming children. Perfect. I'm hoping that the festivities I have planned for this evening--putting up my Christmas tree while watching Love Actually--will help restore my good holiday mood, but considering the storied battles I have waged in the past with my Christmas lights, I'm thinking there's a distinct possibility that such a restoration is not in the cards.

Met my matcha
Poor Norelle. The other night on America’s Next Top Model (which I had to turn off halfway through to go to a Christmas party, hence no Janice Dickinson Quote of the Week, although I did read on the UPN recap that she told Ann, in reference to her pictures, that “The Statue of Liberty looks better,” which is pretty funny), Norelle had a difficult time adjusting to Japanese culture. And after what happened to me yesterday, I totally understand how she feels.

Yesterday afternoon, I went out to try and get some matcha, which is the type of Japanese tea used in the traditional tea ceremony, for a photo shoot. I also had to get some chamomile for the same shoot, so my first stop was World Market, because I figured they would have both types of tea and I could just get it all in one stop. (Plus, I really needed to buy an advent calendar.) No such luck. They had the chamomile (and the advent calendar), but they had never even heard of matcha. World Market, my ass.

Undeterred, I next stopped by one of the Asian grocery stores our assistant editor thought might have matcha. They did not, although the woman was very nice and offered to order some for me. But, as I needed it for the shoot today, that just would not work. So I drove to another Asian grocery store. The guy there had never even heard of matcha. Great. As I was running low on gas, I decided to call a few more Asian grocery stores to check on the availability of matcha in advance before I made the trek all the way there.

I called the Oriental Market and asked the guy who answered the phone if they had matcha. “Bok choi?” he replied. “No,” I said, “matcha.” I explained that it was a type of tea. He responded by exclaiming again, “Bok choi!” and then going on and on about bok choi for quite some time. Yeah. I finally deduced that they did not in fact have matcha (but probably did have more than enough bok choi, which didn’t really help me a whole lot).

Next, I called the Super Oriental Market, figuring that, since they were obviously in superior standing to the just plain old Oriental Market, they might have what I was looking for. And I was in luck! When I told the girl on the phone what I needed, she assured me very enthusiastically that they did in fact have matcha. I breathed an enormous sigh of relief.

However, when I got to the grocery store, I was unable to locate the matcha on the tea aisle. I found the girl I had talked to on the phone and asked her where the matcha was. As she led me to it, I noticed that we seemed to be moving away from the tea aisle and the grocery section and nearer to the gifts and clothing section of the store. Finally, we came to a stop and she pointed to a flat wooden box, proclaiming, “Mah jongg!”

When I explained that I was in fact looking for tea and not a game favored by little old ladies the world over, she just looked at me blankly and said she had no idea what matcha was. Desperate, I called our assistant editor back to see if she could come up with any other potential matcha-having locations. She called me back five minutes later to say that she’d called two health food stores and a couple of Japanese restaurants, and there was no matcha to be found in Birmingham.

In addition to being completely frustrating, I found this a little surprising. I mean, on the one hand, matcha is a very specialized type of tea used only in the tea ceremony, so it’s not the kind of thing you'd drink every morning. But then again, if the tea ceremony is such an important part of Japanese culture that they see fit to feature it on freaking America’s Next Top Model, you’d think the tea itself would be easier to track down. If only I were a contestant on ANTM. I could have gotten my hands on all the matcha I wanted! Of course, then I’d also have to actually be a contestant on ANTM, so…maybe it’s better this way.

Forgive me, friends
For I have been lying to…well, most of you. OK, not really lying, so much as not telling the whole truth. For the past month, when you have called me or e-mailed me and asked what I’ve been up to, I’ve been all, “Oh, nothing really.” The truth is, though, I was up to something. And now it is time for me to come clean about what that “something” is.

I have been writing a novel for National Novel Writing Month. If you were wondering why I was slightly out of touch for most of the month of November, this is why. I decided to keep this project a secret from nearly everyone I know for a couple of reasons: 1) So I wouldn’t have to explain myself to too many people if I wasn’t able to make it to 50,000 words by the end of the month, and 2) In case what I wrote was complete crap.

But here we are on the first day of December, and I did finish my novel by the deadline. (One day early, in fact. Yay!) And while it’s certainly not the next Great American Novel, I’m not completely embarrassed by what I’ve written. So now I’d like to share it with everyone.

Before, I do, though, I must take a brief moment to acknowledge the following people, whose help and support has been invaluable to me during this process:

Leonard Cohen, for writing such fabulous songs. Quoting his lyrics definitely helped me pad my word count, especially toward the end.

Chris Heinz, for giving me the idea for my novel when I saw him chatting up the Bush twins after one of the presidential debates. In fact, so inspirational was he that I named one of my characters after him. A big thank-you also goes to the Bush and Kerry sisters, whose wacky misadventures inspired more than a few of the shenanigans in my book.

My friend Terri, who consented to go with me to see First Daughter for research purposes. The movie was pretty awful (not that I really expected otherwise), but at least it gave me some ideas of what pitfalls to avoid in the novel.

Kate, who let me talk her into writing a novel, too. Although she ended up calling it quits after about 2,000 words, her support of my endeavor was unwavering.

And finally, most importantly, I owe an enormous debt of gratitude to Dave, without whom this novel would not exist. Seriously. He has been my partner in crime, my competitor, my motivator and my cheerleader. Back in October, when I was still wavering about my decision to embark on this journey, he wavered with me. And he stayed with me the entire time, through the procrastinating at the beginning, the struggling in the middle and the jubilant celebrating at the end. To steal a line from my manuscript (hey, I just wrote an entire novel in a month; give me a break), he has challenged me and inspired me more than he’ll ever know.

And now for the moment you’ve all been waiting for: Go here to read the fruits of my labor.