Operation Pink Herring

Phantom cat odor, keys, and pickup lines

When we arrived home on Monday night, I was braced to be hit in the face by a wall of Phantom Cat Odor when we opened the front door.  Every once in awhile I'll catch a whiff of PCO in the front room, undoubtedly from the period of time last year that I like to call Hell On Earth, when Henry was peeing on EVERYTHING with no explanation.  I've treated spots he peed on with hundreds of dollars worth of Resolve, Nature's Miracle, Arm and Hammer Pet Odor Treatment, regular old Arm and Hammer sprinkled (dumped) liberally all over the carpet, Special Enzyme Cleaners Ordered from the Interwebs, and basically tried everything known to mankind to get rid of the smell, and STILL. Still we smell it sometimes.  I even ordered a black light to find hidden pee-spots (which was a total waste of money) and soaked pretty much the entire carpet in gallons of enzyme cleaner and STILL.  I smell it, sometimes.  And that's the problem: I only smell it sometimes.  Which I take to mean that most of the time, I've become so acclimated to PCO that I don't even notice it.  When we returned from Lake Tahoe this summer after being away for over a week, we were bowled over by the stench upon returning home.  Oh my God, we realized, This is what our house smells like to normal people.  And that is why you'll find me burning seventeen different strategically placed scented candles whenever someone is coming over.

Before this turns into an entire entry about cat pee (which I'm sure would be thrilling, but I've got more important things to tell you about) my point is: when we came home from Barcelona on Monday night I did not notice any tangible cat odor upon walking through the door.  Success at last!   Nor did I find any passive-aggressive pee spots anywhere in the house.  Nope, all we came home to was an excessive amount of cat litter tracked through the Poop Room and one pile of barf.  Not bad, not bad at all!

But that would just have been too easy.  There is always a price to pay for going away and having a fabulous time, and for this trip that price was hopping into Joel's truck on Tuesday morning to find the battery had mysteriously died while we were away.  We abandoned ship truck and Joel and I switched keys so he could borrow my car for the day.   When I went to the grocery store that evening I took my spare set of keys, rather than be bothered with walking all the way upstairs to get my primary set back from Joel.  When I got home, I remembered that I hadn't been able to get into my office that morning because my office keys are on my primary key set, so we switched back. I gave him his keys, and I took back my keys. But the spare keys remained in my purse, and so when I kissed Joel goodbye on Wednesday morning and told him, "Sure!  Borrow my car again!  Of course, darling!", I waltzed out the door with both sets of keys to said car. 

This is what Joel has to look forward to FOR THE REST OF HIS LIFE. 

But whatever, it was a good excuse for me to meet Joel downtown for lunch to deliver my spare keys. 

I borrowed my coworker's metro pass and rode it one stop, which left me a few blocks from Joel's office.  As I was getting off the train, the guy behind me mumbled something.  I ignored him, which I believe is standard protocol for such situations.  He caught up to me on the escalator and mumbled again, slightly louder, "So, just getting off for lunch?", which I'm sure you'll all agree is the most original pickup line EVER.  I told him "yes" and tried my best to walk away, but he was having none of it.  He walked with me for three blocks, chatting me up with conversation about his business, how important he is, blah blah blah, but since he was just full of himself and not a total dangerous-looking psycho, I figured there was no harm in it.  He was asking me about my job, and then it turned out that we went to the same college, and then he told me he was looking for someone just like me to come work at his big important company.   I realized exactly how lame this line was at the time, but I figured what the hell -- maybe he really does want to give me a fabulous job and pay me lots of money to work from home in  my pajamas.  So I gave him my card.  (After he asked for it, I didn't just throw it at him and tell him to call me, anytime, day or night.)

What should really shock you about that statement is not that I gave my card to a total stranger who tried to pick me up on the shady Baltimore metro, but that I actually had a business card with me.  The only reason I did was because I had re-organized my massive wallet the night before to remove all the Euro coinage that was weighing me down.  God, I'm so professional.  Except for the fact that I'm pretty sure I gave him my outdated card with my old position title.  Whatever.

And then he asked if I'd like to have lunch with him at Panera Bread, and I told him that I was sorry, but I couldn't because I was meeting my fiance for lunch.   It was the first time I've said that lovely French word in a real conversation (as opposed to the many conversations I have with myself in my head and the conversations that I have with the cats when I get home at night, who's my schmoopy kitten-head?  You are!  Yooou are!)

Then I got to tell my fiance that we couldn't go to Panera like he wanted to because I'd just given my card to a random stranger in there. 

So we went to Chipotle instead.

And thus ends the most discombobulated entry in history.  I had my usual, a vegetarian burrito with both kinds of beans and corn salsa, in case you were wondering.  And yes, I do know that the pinto beans have pork in them and I don't care because I'm not really a vegetarian.

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PS - Thank you all so so very much for breaking this site's comment record with your congratulations.  In return, I promise not to become an Interweb Bridezilla.   And I will write The Proposal Story, but be forewarned that it might induce gagging and diabetic comas because it is just that sweet.  Don't say I didn't warn you.

PPS - OMG WE'RE GETTING MARRRRRRIED!!!!

PPPS - I promise, that's the last time I'll do that.

PPPPS, Confidential to Ruthie: Dude, you have to leave an email address when you comment so I can reply!  Yes, I heard, and CONGRATS to you too! 

 

Jetlag dispatch

Hi.  We're back.  The trip was awesome, thanks for asking! 

Since I have already uploaded 497 photos to flickr, I won't bore you with repeating my favorite shots here.  I honestly couldn't pick my favorites if I tried.  I took SO. MANY. PICTURES.  Also, I am sort of extremely jetlagged and am having trouble keeping my eyes open right now.

So how about I just borrow Janet's patented Love/Hate format instead?   

Love: Coming home to my mouthwash and electric toothbrush, both of which were left behind because they took up too much space.  My mouth feels so deliciously clean.

Hate: Having to clean the bathroom sink myself.

Love:  Sleeping in my own bed, which features a real queen mattress and not two twin mattresses shoved together with a giant, uncomfortable seam down the middle. 

Hate: Having to think about what to make for dinner tonight instead of which restaurant to go to.

Love: Having more than two clean outfit options to choose from.

Hate: The enormous pile of laundry staring at me from the corner of the bedroom.  And the rest of the laundry still in the suitcases.

Love:  Snuggling with my kitties, who actually missed us and are being super affectionate and cute. 

Hate: Coming back to cold, rainy weather.  I liked the Mediterranean winter better.

Love:  Being back in touch with the rest of the world.

Hate: My overflowing inbox.

Love: That getting coffee this morning didn't require a special metro ride to a Starbucks and a very confused half-English, half-Spanish conversation about what a " Cafe Americano" really means.

Hate: Not having anywhere to practice my Spanish anymore.

Love: Getting a sesame bagel with cream cheese this morning.

Hate: That I'll have to go to the gym to work off all those calories, instead of walking around Barcelona for exercise. 

And finally, I LOVE that we have finally informed all our family and friends, so I can now show you this picture**:

 

(**Will be getting resized on Thursday so it can go on the correct finger)

Hasta la vista (baby)

In a mere 48 hours, Joel and I will be smack in the middle of a 4-hour layover in Newark, NJ.  At 7pm on Sunday, we'll board our plane for the overnight Barcelona.

It would be fair to say that I'm a little bit excited. 

It would also be fair to say that I'm starting to FREAK OUT A LITTLE BIT.

I panic a little before every trip because that's just how I roll.  But since this is as long trip, and an international trip, I'm really starting to fuh-reak.

I think Joel is expecting me to, like, be able to speak the language in Spain.  Apparently since I was a Spanish major and because I once lived in Madrid for three and a half months, I'm supposed to be able to speak Spanish or something.  Sure, I could say I spoke Spanish... six years ago. Now... creo que no.  I can hardly understand the perverted things the fine hispanic gentlemen yell out me from their third story apartments when I walk home from work.  Plus, the Spanish they speak in Catalonia is not the same Spanish they speak in Madrid.  Nope.  And it's not just the difference between a Southern drawl and a Boston accent.  There was this guy from Barcelona living in my dorm when I was in Madrid who apparently was sort of in love with me.  At least, that's what the other kids told me, I honestly don't know because  I COULDN'T UNDERSTAND A WORD ALBERTO SAID TO ME. 

I also feel woefully unprepared for this trip.  We have a lovely list of things to do from Audrey (and seriously, Audrey, THANK YOU SO MUCH MUCHAS GRACIAS) and a couple of travel books, but that's about it.  This really isn't any different from any other vacation Joel and I have taken together, but for some reason it's really stressing me out this time.  This is Joel's first trip to Europe!  In fact, not including Canada, this is his first trip out of the country!  We must do and see everything there is to see!  In the entire country!  In the entire world!  ALL IN ONE WEEK!  Anything less will constitute a complete failure on my part, don't you agree? 

Also, I need to clean my house from top to bottom before we leave because that's what normal people do.   I also need to get a haircut, get my legs waxed, renew my library card, give my neighbor very detailed instructions about how Max likes his filet mignon cooked medium rare and sliced into tiny animal shapes and how Henry will only piss in one litterbox (and even then only if the litter is perfectly raked with diagonal lines) and Madison doesn't like it when you pet him too much, but he also doesn't like it when you ignore him.  There's a delicate balance.  He'll let you know when you've crossed the line by clawing your eye out.

Oh, and I also need to pack.

Other than the panic attack that comes standard with any longish trip, I'm really really excited.  Dude, we're going to SPAIN.  The forecast for Monday is close to 70 degrees.  And I still have sixteen Euros left over from my last trip to Europe.  Score.  people go on trips to countries where they do not speak the language at all every day.  We have all day tomorrow to pack.  Our neighbor has a pile of recycling in the alley that's been there for over a year, so I don't think she'll mind to much if I don't mop the kitchen floor and dust the bedroom blinds before we leave.  Everything will be fine.  Everything wil be wonderful.

I don't know what the internet situation will be at our hotel, and also in case I haven't mentioned it twenty million times already, WE'RE GOING TO SPAIN!  ON VACATION!, so I don't think much posting will be happening.  But I do plan to upload our pictures to Flickr daily if I can, so check there for pictures if you care to.

Adios!

Neither rain nor sleet nor snow nor hail

There was a notice from the post office slipped through our mail slot on Tuesday, saying that they'd make a "FINAL ATTEMPT" to deliver a package to me and that I could pick it up at the local post office between the hours of 8am and 5pm.  If I didn't pick it up by Friday, they'd be shipping it back to the sender.

I was confused for a few reasons.  I wasn't expecting a package at home.  The sender's name, illegibly scrawled by the mailman, was unfamiliar.  "Final Notice" implies that prior notices had been left, but we hadn't received any. The post office has never had a problem tossing our packages into the alley (and in the "item left _____" section of the undeliverable notice, they cryptically wrote "SIDE", which had us completely stumped until we saw our soggy, bruised Amazon.com box lying halfway up the alley, half in our neighbor's patio), or, more recently, dumping a box into the shrub next to our steps.  (That time, it said "Item left PLANT", which was much more clear).  But since I was too curious to let my mysterious package be returned to its sender, I got up extra early yesterday and went to the post office before work to pick it up. 

After the woman at the desk spent 10 minutes explaining to the dude in front of my why he couldn't ship a UPS box from the Post Office ("Wait -- they're not the same?  What do you mean?  Isn't this where mail goes?"), she fetched my mysterious package.  I tore it open on the way to work and was delighted to find a Christmas Card and a box of chocolates from Marriage-101.  But again, I was confused, because the lovely card talked about Sweet Pea the Dog, and didn't Sweet Pea run away over Christmas?   Then I looked at the postmark:  December 22nd. 

It took 26 days for this package to make it from Missouri to Maryland.  That's an average of 32 miles a day.

Also, the package would have easily fit through our mail slot.

Also, when I got home (having picked up the package that morning!), I got another "FINAL NOTICE", this one claiming the package would be returned to sender on Monday (not Friday).

Um.  Okay.  Whatever.  The choclates were delicious and were much enjoyed by my coworkers and I for breakfast.  Thanks again, Liz!

Back on January 7th, when Marriage-101's package was probably slowly making its way through Louisiana, I ordered some Feliway refills from Amazon.  These things are expensive, but they work wonders for our cats.   I started using them last year when they were brawling during every waking moment, and within hours of plugging them in the fighting had stopped.  I'd phased them out gradually since the catfights are mostly a thing of the past, but I thought it would be a good idea to get a few to plug in while we're away, especially since there has been a phantom rug-peer for the past couple of weeks.  Knowing that this box would never fit through the mail slot, I shipped it to my office address.  Tracking confirmed that it was shipped on January 10th and delivered on January 12th at 11:33am.   Today is January 17th, and I have yet to see it.

Does anyone else have this many problems with the mail?   I'm off to track down my package, since the whole point of buying those refills was to keep the cats from pissing all over the house while we're in Spain and holy crap WE ARE LEAVING IN THREE DAYS. 

Towards a better me

At long last, may I present my 2008 goals/resolutions/whatever you want to call them.   I'm freely copying Jemima's format because I love it so very much.  Last year I found having a whole bunch of smaller, more specific goals much more motivational than having just a few broad resolutions, so I'm running with it again this year.   I've been adding to this list ever since I first wrote it out (over two weeks ago), and I plan to keep adding to it throughout the year when additional things strike me.  I realize that some of these "resolutions" read more like a to-do list, but what can I say?  Lists: I love them.   

WORK

Get a new job. I have to admit that I have it pretty good.  My current workplace has a ton of perks.  But I think I've learned all that I can here, and I want to find something that I actually enjoy doing on a day-to-day basis.  I'm not sure what that will be, but I want to figure it out and try something in a new direction.  Any ideas?

Be more productive at work.  I hate feeling like I haven't put my best effort into anything.  It makes me feel like crap.

EXERCISE/HEALTH

Exercise at least 5 times a week.  Make up deficit (8 workouts) from last year.

Lose 10 pounds.  (Cliches be damned!)

Go to yoga at least once a week.  Last year I fell a bit short of this goal (I think I went a total of 42 times).  It's hard to make it when I'm traveling or really busy on the weekends, but I'm going to try to hit 52 classes this year.

READING/WRITING

Read at least one book a month.  This shouldn't be too hard, but I'm still putting it on the list.

Continue book journal.  Consider posting reviews on GoodReads or on blog to encourage putting more thought into book journal entries.

Write more often in my personal journal.

Write better content for blog.

Go through old blog posts and remove anything I really shouldn't have written. 

Stop writing things I really shouldn't write about on the internet.  Seriously. 

Write at least one non-blog piece for fun, even if I don't show it to anyone.

FINANCIAL

Fully fund my IRA.  This might be difficult now that I see that the limit is $5,000 (instead of $4,000) per year, but

Including IRA, save 20-30% of take-home salary.

Keep credit card bill under $750/month (on average).  Eek.  So far, this is not going well.  I'm going to have to do some major budgeting when we get back from Barcelona.

PETS

Get all three cats up to date on shots and healthy.  After the Great Vet Debacle a few weeks ago, I'm halfway there!

FASHION/APPEARANCE

Pare down wardrobe.   Take things I don't want or don't wear to consignment or Goodwill.   Start wearing more things in my closet instead of just sticking to my few favorites.

Buy some freakin' work biznass pants.  I actually wore out one of my favorite pairs of pants (holes in the crotch won't fly as "business casual," I assume), and now I'm down to four ( or five, if I actually lose those ten pounds and can fit back into my JCrew khakis) pairs.  This means I have to laundry on a frighteningly regular basis. 

Finish growing out brassy highlights.  This won't exactly require any effort on my part, except for inspecting my hair in the mirror every day and whispering words of encouragement to grow faster, damnit!

Actually do something with my hair at least once a week.  Blow dry, flat iron, use a hairbrush whatever.  SOMETHING.  Once a week.

Do my own nails on a regular basis.  And take off the polish when they start to look bad.

HOME IMPROVEMENT

Pare down other possessions.  Reorganize kitchen. Get plastic storage containers and move stuff we don't use (but that we're (ahem) unable to get rid of just yet) to the basement for storage.  I actually did the kitchen this past weekend and it was the most fun I've had in weeks.  Everything is now organized.  The spices are together, dishes are together, cups and mugs now fit without being precariously stacked on top of each other, and I have three bags of stuff to put in the basement.   I cannot wait to tackle the closet.

Finish painting the house (just bedroom and a few doors to go).

Get new curtains for front room.  The current ones were purchased at Walmart as a temporary solution.  In 2004. 

Replace white shelves in kitchen with something more aesthetically pleasing.   Using my freshman year roommate's old Ikea bookshelf to store cereal?  Not working for me any more.

Look into putting additional cabinets between kitchen windows. 

Put up curtains in the kitchen.

Look into putting up crown molding throughout the house.  Although I did my very best, our house wasn't exactly rehabbed by a genius (ifyaknowwhatImean) and the seams in between our ceilings and walls aren't all straight.  Hence, when I painted all these walls and ceilings the lines came out a bit... imperfect.  This drives me insane on a daily basis.  I suspect any agent would tell us to correct that before we sell the house, so why shouldn't I enjoy some crown molding in the meantime?

Get the carpets cleaned again in July. We had our first experience with Stanley Steemer this summer, and MAN did I ever feel like a disgusting slob when I saw how fast the water turned brown.  NOTE TO SELF: Next house shall have no carpeting!

COOKING

Create recipe book.   Put my favorite recipes (meaning, the five recipes that I actually use) in it.

Cook one big meal a week.

FRIENDS/FAMILY

Be a better friend.  Email more, keep in better touch.  Make a real effort to let my friends know how great they are.

Be an excellent bridesmaid for my two friends getting married in the fall.  I just learned that one of my bride-friends has picked Ann Taylor dresses for her bridesmaids to wear.  SCORE.

Write more cards and letters to my grandmother.

MISCELLANEOUS

Stop picking my fingers.  Seriously.   This has got to stop.  I used to bite my nails, but at some point during college I progressed to picking at the skin around my nails instead.  The result is my dirty little secret; I am always terrified that people are going to notice my mangled fingers and think I'm psychotic.   I pick when I'm nervous, I pick when I'm bored, I pick when I'm watching TV, I pick while I'm driving, I pick during conference calls, I pick during meetings.  I sort of like picking.  It's fun.  It satisfies my need to always be doing SOMETHING.  But I do NOT like having my hands look like they've been through a wood chipper.  I really need to take up knitting or something to give me something to do with my hands while I'm watching TV.  Who wants to teach me?

Make a will.   Not necessarily a legally binding document, but something.

Learn how to use our camera.  Read the manual, experiment with different shots.  Look into photography classes.  Currently, I hate our camera.  I suspect this has more to do with my inability to correctly operate it than the camera's inability to take decent pictures in any conditions other than bright, natural sunlight.

Donate more to charities.  Consider volunteering again.  My favorites are the MDSPCA, The Chesepeke Bay Fund, Wildlife Rescue, Inc and The Book Thing.   Man, I am such a hippie.

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Phew!  Did I miss anything?

This Bag is Not A Toy

I have developed a disturbing obsession with Ewan McGregor.   Over the long Christmas and New Year's weekends the stars aligned to bring Ewan back into my life.  First, Joel's parents sent me an Amazon gift card, which I managed to spend within an hour of opening the envelope.  I'd been itching to order some new music; I even added a few CDs to my Amazon wishlist while I was compulsively searching for the Barenaked Ladies/Sarah McLaughlin version of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen.  I know, I know, normal people are downloading music and listening to their itunes playlists on their microscopically sized MP3 players... normal people also do not have dial up internet.  At the rate we're going, I'll be driving a flying car before I break down and get an iPod. 

Anyway, I'd been doing a lot of thinking about CDs, so the minute the gift card hit my hands I'd added both discs of the Moulin Rouge soundtrack to my car.  I love this movie dearly, and somehow I managed to lose both the DVD and the soundtrack during one of my many college moves.  The second disc, which I bought from an illegal street vendor in Spain, mysteriously stopped working (imagine that!).   Waiting for regular speed shipping to reunite me with these two old friends was torture, and the minute they arrived I had them in the computer, blasting "Your Song" at full volume.  I defy any of you to name a song that is more romantic than an Elton John classic sung by a hot Scottsman.  I'm listening to it (on repeat) right now.  It makes me tear up EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.  Sigh.  I'm not joking even a little bit when I say that I want this to be the song I dance to at my wedding.   Don't worry, I'm sure Ewan will be able to sing to me and dance in his kilt at the same time.  And maybe we'll even invite Sir Elton!  He can play the piano and sing backup.

The same weekend that the CDs arrived, we also got The Island from Netflix.  I knew that this got terrible reviews, and that's why I love Netflix.  Sure, it bumped off a "better" movie to make it to our house, but I don't feel that I've wasted money when I add a totally ridiculous film to the queue.  Or every single episode of The Office.  Who cares that I'll probably get around to watching it in 2037 since it's currently ranked #189 in the queue?  If the writer's strike continues much longer, we just may make it through the entire list sometime this decade.  Anyway, The Island lived up to the reviews: it was painful.  Three days later Joel and I were still thinking about how awful it was. Why were they even serving bacon in that cafeteria?  How exactly did they explain Pregnant Lady's impending baby? If Clone Ewan instinctively knew how to drive a flying motorcycle, wouldn't he also have known that red means stop? But the awfulness of the movie did not matter one bit, nor did Clone Ewan's horrific American accent, because Evil Ewan SPOKE WITH THE SCOTTISH ACCENT.  FOR, LIKE, TEN WHOLE MINUTES.   God, it was fabulous.

Now, weeks later, I still can't get enough of "Your Song".  I know that Ewan was roomates with Jude Law in acting school, and that he is married with two kids.   And I just found myself wondering if there was some sort of podcast I could subscribe to where Ewan would just talk.  He could talk about how he loves to litter and pollute the oceans, how he takes baths in gasoline and burns down the rainforest, kicks puppies for fun.  Hell, he could drone on about how great mornings are, I WOULD STILL LISTEN.   

Ahem.  In other news, I fear that the "Child" Endangerment Division of Animal Control may soon be knocking on our door to request a home safety inspection.  Just two days after the incident with accidentally ingesting mind-altering drugs, Joel and I came home from his office holiday party to find the house trashed.  The curtains had been pulled off the front window, his bike had been knocked over, and there were plastic bags scattered all over the house.  After confirming that the burglar alarm was set and functioning properly, we speculated that the cats must have had a wild night of their own while we were out. 

And then I found this:

moar funny pictures

Luckily, my Eagle Scout boyfriend had a pocketknife handy and Henry was none the worse for wear after his losing battle with a plastic Safeway bag.

I really need to install a nannycam.

12 steps

I went home to check on Max (and Madison, who was still locked in the bathroom while Max remained intoxicated) during my lunch break today.  I'm proud to report that rehab/detox seems to be working -- it's not been an easy road, but I think that this big guy is almost back to normal.  He's still a little wobbly, and he's still battling to keep his eyes open, but I think he's going to make it through this.   

A day in rehab from Pink Herring on Vimeo.

I also tried to get a video of Henry wall-jumping while I had the camera out, but he refused to do it on film.  He was too busy doing God-knows-what in the bathtub.  He hangs out in there all the time.  I don't even want to know why anymore.  It's number 489 on the list of Strange Things Henry Does.   I cannot figure out how to rotate the video, so just tilt your head (or your computer screen) to the left if that sort of thing bothers you as much as it bothers me. 

(Please pardon the mess)

(Also, please ignore the many, many colors on the wall.  Decisions: who can make them?)

And the verdict is: PLUMB FUCKING CRAZY

So, the take-both-cats-to-the-vet-at-once idea?  BAD, BAD IDEA.   I don't know what the hell I was thinking -- oh wait, yes I do, I was thinking it would be nice to spend one evening wrangling felines into boxes and cars and exam tables instead of two.  In the future, please remind me that two nights of Chinese water torture would be more pleasurable than what went down last night (and continued right on through to this morning).

Getting Max and Madison into their carriers was a snap.  Madison loves to climb in boxes, so we just put his carrier on the ground, let him hop in, and then shut the door.   Done.  Max put up a half-hearted fight for about 5 seconds and then settled into his carrier as well.  So far, so good.  Joel asked me if I'd given Madison his tranquilizer, and I replied that I'd tried, but he wouldn't take it.  This is what happens every time I try to give Madison one of the lovely pink pills the vet gave us for him, he takes one sniff of the treat(s) I've hidden it in (this time I broke it into quarters so not even a hint of pink was showing), gives me the finger, and saunters off to scratch something.   Last night was no different.   Oh, well.  Such is life.  I tried.  Sigh.

Madison performed like the devil that he is at the vet; claws, hissing, spitting, and I swear to god, I heard him curse at us once or twice.  He didn't mind the rabies shot, but that brazen bitch of a doctor wanted to do things like LOOK IN HIS EARS  and SHINE A LIGHT IN HIS EYES and worst of all, TOUCH HIS BELLY.   Oh, hellz no.  He'd rather die, and he was determined to take us all to hell with him.  Joel likes to watch this seizure-inducing show called Naruto, in which the protagonist, a nine-year-old ninja warrior who wears an orange jumpsuit, relies on the Spirit of the Nine-Tailed Fox that lives inside of him to get him out of the life-threatening situations that seem to be an everyday occurrence  for a nine-yr-old Japanese kid living in a ninja village.  I forget how exactly the Nine-Tailed-Fox got inside him, possibly his mother had an affair with a Fox Spirit, it's all kind of fuzzy because the entire dialog of the show consists of a non-word expressions like "OH!" and "AH!" and "OOF!", and on top of that, I'm pretty sure that the title song (which is in Japanese, but with random English phrases like "Fighting dreamers (yeah!)" thrown in - the "yeah!" is actually in parentheses, and I know that because the entire song is subtitled) is implanted with evil subliminal messages about helping Naruto become the third hokage, BECAUSE HOW ELSE DO I KNOW ALL THIS STUFF?   (Because I desperately want the writers to take me on as a consultant so that I can explain to them difference between chakra and chi, which they use interchangeably on the show, that's why.  Take a freaking yoga class before you start putting cult-anime on TV, that's all I'm saying.)

ANYWAY, my point is that I think that Madison has the Spirit of The Nine-Fanged Cobra living inside of him, because for a lazy jerkface who spends all day sleeping on my memory foam pillow and can't even be bothered to try to run out the door when I come home anymore, his strike is almost faster than the eye can see.   He managed to somehow give me a puncture wound in my thigh (through my pants), although I have no idea when that happened, since I was cowering against the wall during his entire exam, and he also managed to give the vet a nasty scratch WITH HIS HIND LEG.   Even when he was securely back in his box, he was still striking at us from inside, shaking the entire carrier as if it contained a gremlin that had been fed after midnight and then exposed to water.

All this served to scare the living hell out of Max, who never enjoys vet visits but usually behaves himself quite well.  This time he hissed, growled and even swatted (claws in) at the vet.  He's never swatted a person before.  He endured the teeth-checking and the shot and the belly touching (while I'm pacing around, mumbling "stop growling, Max, you LOVE belly rubs!  Please please please stop growling", and Joel is hissing at me to "breathe, you're making Max nervous!  Relax!").   And then... well, then they wanted to take him in the back for bloodwork, since Max is officially a geriatric cat now, and I said OK and then we listened to Max scream bloody murder for the next ten minutes.  I almost cried.  I was shaking.  I felt like the most terrible, horrible cat parent in the world for not bursting back there and saving him.  When he came out, the vet was very apologetic, swearing up and down that they didn't do anything to hurt him at all... he just freaked out when they tried to pick him up and put him on the exam table.  "My Big Boy hates to be picked up, and I didn't tell them that," I thought to myself.  I was feeling like a pretty terrible person, damned because I tried to do the right thing for my cat's health.   All of your parents of real children out there:HOW THE HELL DO YOU IT? 

We got home and, thank the gods in heaven and the spirits of the nine-tailed foxes everywhere, Max and Madison both immediately morphed back to their normal selves.  We made some dinner, watched half of Alexander (Joel, of course, ordered the "director's cut", which I'd like to announce features a completely unnecessary shot of Colin Farrell's balls -- shield your eyes if you rent it, I sure wish I had), chugged back a large glass of wine and went to bed by 11pm.

The story isn't over.

At about 3:15am, we were both awakened by a cat-scuffle, accompanied by Henry's signature INTRUDER ALERT INTRUDER ALERT howl.  This is the scream he saves for sightings of other cats through the window (which he vigilantly patrols) and Santa Max.  The Santa suit completely confounds Henry, and you may have noticed that the door is very much CLOSED in this picture -- that served two purposes: keeping Max from trotting under the bed to sulk, and keeping Henry from attacking RED INTRUDER CAT, his mortal enemy.   The INTRUDER CAT that Henry was tracking last night was just Max -- no Santa suit, no New Year's Eve hat.  Just Max.  I got out of bed to break up the scuffle and noticed that Max seemed particularly ruffled by this affront.  "I know, it's been a long day", I told him, as I gave Madison a (gentle) kick and stuffed Henry back under the covers with me.  "Leave him alone, guys" I instructed. 

Five minutes later, Madison had Max cowering in the corner again, and I could have sworn that I saw Max stumble as he backed away from Asshole Madison.  Madison got another gentle kick as I shooed him out the door and down the stairs.  I decided to stay awake for a little while to make sure he didn't come back.  Madison may be a lazybones, but he's persistent when douchebaggery is involved.  Sure enough, he slinked back in to harass Max a few minutes later.  Fed up, I shut him in the downstairs bathroom and came back to bed... where I saw Max fall over as he was trying to lie down.   Joel sleepily asked what was wrong, and I told him I didn't know, but that Max was acting really strange.  "I think he might be sick," I said, "I'm going to read for awhile to make sure he's OK". 

I finally went back to sleep around 5:30, and when I woke up at 7:15 for work the first thing I did was check on Max.  He still looked... off.  He was walking and purring, but his gait was off and he visibly tripped over his own feet twice.   When I leaned in to give him some face scritches, he purred and purred, which I took as a good sign.   But his eyes... were they crossed?  And dude, why are his inner eyelids creeping up like he can't stay awake? 

Did you figure this out yet?  Because it took me this long to realize that when we got home from the vet, my food-loving fat boy gobbled up those roofied treats that Madison rejected earlier in the night.   He is still stoned out of his mind a full twelve hours later, but he seems to be happy.    It would be funny if I hadn't been so worried, if I hadn't been awake half the night watching him stumble around and wondering if they hadn't clubbed him in the head while trying to get that damned blood sample, and if I didn't feel like the world's worst pet owner for leaving those tranq-ed up treats lying on the floor. 

In other news, Max weighed in at a new high last night: 16.4 pounds.   I know I've referred to him as a sixteen-pound cat before, but that was sort of an exaggeration.  Up to this point, the highest he's ever clocked in is 15.6lbs and to be honest, I sort of thought he was slimming down.   

It's just more of him to love.   

You say you want a resolution

First of all, thank you all for the lovely birthday wishes.  I turned twenty-seven yesterday without incident.   Twenty-seven.  I'm still grappling with that number; it sounds like a perfectly lovely age, but I'm still having trouble with the fact that it's ME.   I've been doing this every year since I was about six, so I know I'll get used to the new number soon enough.  At least I don't cry and try to stay awake all night anymore.  I used to do that when I was a kid - I was terrified that when I woke up and was a seven-year-old, I wouldn't be ME anymore.  Would I still like the same things?  Would I remember my parents?  Better to just stay six, and play it safe.  No thank you, I'll pass on the whole birthday thing.   

For my birthday, my coworkers decked out Tiny Grim with a birthday card dangling from his clanking chains and a Happy Birthday sign taped over his sheet music.   To add festivity, they taped a clown magnet to his candle.  It was such a lovely thought that I almost cried (it was also really early in the morning).   We ordered Chipotle for lunch, they surprised me with a cake in the afternoon, and Joel and I ordered pizza for dinner (my request).   Joel surprised me with an ice cream cake and a very sweet card that featured a street gang of cats on the front.   I got more calls and emails than I could return, and I feel incredibly lucky to have so many wonderful people in my life.  We ended the night by watching the end of the American Gladiators pilot, topped off with a Law and Order rerun for good measure.   Max peed in the litterbox.  It was a lovely birthday.   Thank you all, again.  Really.  From the bottom of my bitter, blackened, holiday-hating heart.

****************

The whole idea of New Year's resolutions is sort of distasteful to me, mostly because I associate Resolutions with the cliched cycle of Resolve, Follow Resolutions to the Letter for Three Weeks, Resolve Quickly Deteriorates and Old Habits are Resumed, End Up in Exactly the Same Place Next Year.  People tend to make unrealistic "resolutions", and then beat themselves up for failing to become the model person they think they should be within a year's time.  Or, maybe that's just me.

But cliches be damned, I still like to make resolutions in January.  It's a new calendar year, it's a new year for me (I am twenty-seven.  I am twenty-seven.  Have I mentioned that I'm twenty-seven?) and it's a good time to reflect on the year that's concluded and the new one to come.  It's a good time to think about what I wish I'd done differently, what went well, and what I'd like to accomplish in the future. 

Without further adieu, I give you last year's resolutions and my thoughts on how each one went.

• Break some of my unhealthy eating habits.  I'm not giving up frozen pizzas or Diet Cokes, but I need to cut back on the chips and other salty crap, and replace them with more fruits and veggies.

I'd give myself a B+ on this one.  I still eat a lot of frozen pizza, drink a lot of coffee and diet soda and I eat more than I should because I love food.  But I have made a conscious effort to keep the fridge stocked with a variety of veggies, to eat salads with dinner, and to eat at least one piece of fruit a day. 

• Continue on my odyssey to become a better cook.  I want to try more cookbook recipes, and add at least three new dishes to the list of Things I Can Make Really Well.

B-.  I did a lot of cooking, but I didn't really expand my repertoire as I'd hoped.  The one exception is eggplant parmesan, which I really would like to have RIGHT NOW.

• Continue reading for pleasure.  This was my big resolution last year, after falling off the reading bandwagon for about 10 years.  I used to average a book a week when I was a kid, and sometimes I'd go through a novel in a single day.  Then school took over my life somewhere around age 13, and I got into this rut where I felt like if I was reading, I should be reading for school... which lasted all the way through college.  Since I never felt like reading for school, I stopped reading altogether until last year.  This year I want to continue what I started, and read at least one book a month. 

A+.  I read 23 books this year and I think I've successfully re-established the habit.   I'll recap the books I read this year and what I thought about them soon, in case anyone cares.

• Start a reading journal.  I am totally copying this from another blogger, because I think it is a great and fun idea.

A.  I did it, and I loved it.  I like to feel some sense of accomplishment when I finish a book; I want to know that somehow, somewhere, the universe is giving me credit.  Keeping track for myself in a reading journal accomplishes that goal, feeds my habit of buying cute paper products, and it's interesting to look back on to boot.  Thanks for the lovely idea, Jemima, and please let me know if there's any specific person in the San Francisco Traffic Violations Department that I should be sending evil thoughts to.

• Write something for fun.

F, Unless this blog counts. 

• Be less judgmental (of myself and others).  I also made this resolution last year, and jury's out on whether or not I succeeded. 

B.  I still need to work on being less judgmental of others, but I've made strides in cutting down the constant backtalk in my head.  I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggone it, people like me.

• Find a volunteering gig that I actually like, and stick with it.

D.  I thought about it, thought about it some more, even filled out the application to volunteer at the SPCA.  After much consideration, I didn't send it in.  I think it would be stretching myself too thin.  Theoretically, I would still like to do this, but it's on hold for the time being. 

• Finish some of the billion projects I've started at home.   I would love to finish My Wall, or at least make some really good progress on it.  Ditto for the painting, which has come to a standstill lately as we waffle about colors for the first floor. 

A-.  I finished the Wall.  We just have the bedroom left to paint.  Good progress was made, much is left to be done.  I fear that will always be true.

• Fully fund my IRA.

A+.  Go me.

• Start dressing my age, instead of masquerading as a college student in my sweats-and-sneakers weekend uniform. 

B+.  I did make real progress in updating my work wardrobe, most notably in the shoe department.  But I desperately need some new work pants (business pants!) and I still can't bring myself to wear more than jeans and a sweatshirt on the weekends.  But is that really so bad?

• Stop being sporadic about exercising.  Start running outside once the weather is better, and try to mix in hiking and yoga when I can.

A.  I made a private goal to exercise in some manner at least 5 times a week, and used a very high-tracking system to monitor my progress.  Meaning, I wrote down the date and what I did in a mini notebook on my dresser.  The notebook was a great idea because, like the book journal, it gave me a sense of accomplishment when I got to write something down before bed at night.  It also helped me to keep better track of how I was really doing.  If I started feeling like a lazy cow, I could look back and see that, yes, I had been a couch potato for the past three days -- but prior to that, I'd worked out for ten days straight.  That helped me to keep from sinking into the "well, this week's shot, so I guess I'll just take the rest of the month off" mentality.  In the end, I came up eight workouts short for the year, which isn't too bad at all.  I gave myself a break when I was sick or traveling and didn't count any deficits that accrued during those days -- see, that's me, being less judgmental of myself! 

My private goal was also to lose 15 lbs, getting down to 115 lbs.  I was hesitant to talk about actual weight here for a couple of reasons.   For one thing, HELLO CLICHE.  "I want to lose 15 lbs this year!"  It doesn't get any more trite than that.  But more importantly, I didn't want to look like I was either crying out for help (I'm not, really) or fishing for compliments (again, really... I'm not).  As a recovered anorexic, I'm always hesitant to talk about dieting or weight loss publicly, lest I send my family into a frenzy worrying about my health.  I'm fine.  Actually, I'm great.  I feel that being able to make these reasonable goals, which are more about health than about looking a certain way, is a true sign of recovery.   And I know that "I don't need to lose weight".  But I want to, and I wanted to try.

So anyway, I wanted to lose 15 lbs.  130 is too heavy for a petite person who stands 5'1".  I successfully lost 10 of those pounds, and then gained five back (thank you, holidays!), but I think I'm on the right track.   

As for mixing in yoga and hiking, I did well on the yoga (although I fell short of my once-a-week goal), and OK on hiking.   I also walked and went running outside when the weather was nice, so all in all: not too bad.

***************************

I'll post this year's resolutions soon...  I'm still adding to the list.  "Be more punctual" isn't one of my goals, although maybe it should be.

 

The good, the bad, and the ugly: Monday edition

The Good:  The vet called on Saturday.  I am the proud owner of three parasite-free cats. 

The Bad: Someone has started peeing on the rug in the litterbox room.  I can't be sure since I have yet to catch the offender in the act, but I think it's Max.   In that case, I take back all the nice things I said about being so proud of him and all that bullshit.  WTF, Maxwell?  No, really, WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK?

Also, Max and Madison are also both due for their 3-year rabies shots, and I've decided to take them in together.  Time-saver, or official proof that I have gone plum crazy, because OMGWTF ARE YOU THINKING WOMAN?  Only time will tell!  Stay tuned!  And in the meantime, I promise, no more crazy cat lady talk!

The Ugly:  I have somehow managed to sweat through my light, button-down shirt.  It's not even noon.  I only wore a light coat that was completely appropriate for the springtime weather this morning, and I wasn't all red-faced when I got to work.  I'm not a big sweater.  I put on deodorant this morning.  And yet, there they are: two big pit stains (luckily, not overtly visible because this shirt I'm wearing is a light color).   

I think I have my special expensive deodorant to blame for this, but I'm not really sure what to do.  And this is where you come in, interweb peoples, because I need help.  Serious help.  You cannot imagine how much stress I have over Deodorant Issues.

See, all my t-shirts that are even moderately fitted have black/brown pit stains on them.  I don't even buy white shirts any more. I am positive this is not sweat-related because the shirts I wear to the gym and to hot yoga classes have no such stains.  I was at the point of just giving up deodorant altogether last year when I complained about this annoying problem, OMG ALL MY SHIRTS HAVE PIT STAINS, WAHHHH, to my friend, KP, who admitted she had the exact same problem -- until she switched to the Adidas brand deodorant.  Adidas deodorant is aluminum-free, she explained, and it's the aluminum that causes the staining.   I rushed out to the store to buy a case or twelve of Adidas deodorant, and guess what?  Safeway doesn't carry it.  But they do carry Tom's of Maine deodorant, which for the $5-a-stick price tag is also aluminum-free.  It's also  all natural, organic, and cruelty free, which is all good and fine and great, but most importantly: NO ALUMINUM.

Since I've started using my hippie deodorant made from hops and rainbows and unicorn tears, I haven't noticed a single new pit stain.  Not even on the shirts I wear under sweaters, which tend to be tighter and of, ahem, a slightly lower quality than shirts I'd normally wear.  Hooray!  Except that I'm now sweating through my shirts in the middle of winter.  I fear what will happen when the Baltimore Summer rolls around.  I'll probably drown in a puddle of my own sweat before I made it halfway to work.  What am I to do?

Please tell me I'm not the only one who has this many issues with freaking deodorant. And then, tell me how to fix this.  Do you have strong feelings about deodorant?   A favorite?   A magical solution to my problems, preferably one that doesn't include showering more often?   I should mention that I have tried the Dove line, and while I love their "real beauty" ad campaign as much as the next girl, I hate their deodorant and you couldn't pay me to try it again.  (OK, yes you could, but you'd have to make it worth my while because that shit not only stained my shirts like nobody's business, it also STANK after a few hours of normal wear). 

I swear to God, just while I was typing this, I ACTUALLY SWEATED MORE.  My office temperature is normally set to "Polar Ice Cap" and I haven't moved from my chair in over an hour.   WHAT IS GOING ON?   Early menopause?  Global warming?  Severe Case of the Mondays?   I haven't a freaking clue, but I'm pretty sure this is all Max's fault.

Happy Freakin' New Year! (Now with enough linkage to make your eyes bleed!)

So, 2008.  It's a new year, blah blah blah.   Personally, I think that New Year's Eve is the most overrated holiday in the universe; a holiday where at the stroke of midnight everyone is supposed to kiss and yell and throw confetti and drink champagne.  Dude, champagne makes me want to puke.  I don't like crowds, I don't like yelling, and I am generally just no fun at all.  You thought I was a Christmas Grinch?  I am the queen of all things anti-New Years.

But don't get me wrong: I do not, I repeat, DO NOT, hate New Years.  I could not possibly hate any holiday that buys me a 4-day weekend, during which Law and Order reruns were playing 24 hours a day.  That, my friends, is a holiday.  I did pretty much nothing all weekend.  Went to a couple of yoga classes, managed to somehow pull a muscle in my groin (ouch), watched an unhealthy percentage of those Law and Order reruns, and slept.  With a break in my sleeping to watch the fireworks from our rooftop deck.   Getting back to the grind after two four-day weekends has been rough, to say the least.

Anyway, in honor of the new year, I completed that survey that's been going around the internet.  I actually thought this one was really interesting, and it wasn't easy to fill out.  It actually made me think.  And now I need to go lie down and wail about the fact that there are no more four day weekends (fine, yes, we are going on vacation in two and a half weeks, but that is DIFFERENT.  That is going to be fun and all, but it won't include four days of sitting around in my pajamas, reading trashy novels and watching 10000 hours of L&O).

1. What did you do in 2007 that you’d never done before?

Took a full week off of work for Fake Vacation -- to just get stuff done around the house.  Glorious idea, hopefully to become a yearly tradition.   

Got tested for parasites.  Yuck.

Baked cookies from scratch.  Yum.

Got a real (as in, live) Christmas tree.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I’m planning to do a whole post about this later (I prefer to call them “Birthday Resolutions” to buy myself another week).  I did keep some of my resolutions from last year, and I’m proud of myself.  Others, not so much.  But since one of my resolutions was to be less critical of myself, I’m OK with that!  them, not so much with others.  I am pretty happy with my overall performance, and yes, I will be making more for 2008.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

Actually, no.  My friends are still all in the getting married phase.  Three weddings planned for next year already!

4. Did anyone close to you die?

Shadow.

5. What countries did you visit?

Just the good ole US of A.   But I did do a whole lot of traveling within the confines of our nation: For fun, I visited New Jersey (many times), Chicago, Miami, Hershey PA, Delaware’s Eastern Shore, Richmond, Reno/Lake Tahoe, Washington DC, New York, and Connecticut .   

For work, I went to Scottsdale AZ, Philadelphia, New Orleans, Decatur IL, Ft Lauderdale, Boston, Chicago, Chicago again, San Francisco, New Orleans again, and Atlanta.

AND BOY, ARE MY ARMS TIRED.  (And so is my mouse-clicking finger, from all that linkage)

6. What would you like to have in 2008 that you lacked in 2007?

Direction in my career path.

7. What dates from 2007 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

February 8th, 2007: The day Henry came back. 
July 25th, 2007: Our five-year anniversary.   
October 27th, 2007: My friend’s wedding day, because it was the first wedding I’ve attended for a really close friend.   
October 27th (again):  The day Shadow died.
 
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Finishing The Wall. 

9. What was your biggest failure?

Not doing more to find #6.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

I had a couple of killer colds and a bout of food poisoning, but other than that I’ve been healthy.   The chronic pain from my broken coccyx was more of annoyance than a real hindrance this year, and I’m incredibly grateful for that.  Yay, yoga!  (And yay, chiropractic!)

11. What was the best thing you bought?

I would say the Tivo, but I think we technically bought that in 2006.  So I’m going to go with de-wormers for Henry. 

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

Max’s.  Don’t laugh.  Max has been a real champ this year, adjusting well to having a new family member added to the household.  He successfully switched to a non-prescription food, and then again to a cruelty free food when I discovered this website: www.iamscruelty.com.  He switched to a new environmentally friendly cat litter with nary a complaint.  He tapered off his anti-anxiety meds without reverting to compulsive grooming.  He stopped being a pushover and asserted himself with Bossy Henry.  I’m very proud of him.  I’m 100% serious, so stop looking at me like that.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

Our handicapped neighbor, who routinely parks in front of his designated handicapped space when he has company coming over.  When his friends arrive, he backs his car into his space and his friends take the empty space in front.   The rest of the neighborhood witnesses this as we circle the block endlessly searching for a parking space of our own.   One particularly bitter resident has contemplated calling the police to report this flagrant abuse, but is always talked out of it by her level-headed boyfriend who claims “it may be an asshole move, but it’s not breaking the law and the cops aren’t going to do anything”.  WHATEVER.   

14. Where did most of your money go?

Mortgage, vet bills, vacations.  In that order. 

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Going to Lake Tahoe, and my week of Fake Vacation.  I think I was equally excited for both, and my expectations were more than met.  If you have a lot of vacation time, I cannot recommend strongly enough taking a few days of Fake Vacation. 

16. What song will always remind you of 2007?

Early Winter by Gwen Stefani.  The whole Sweet Escape CD is great.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:

a) happier or sadder? I wouldn’t say sadder, but I am more frustrated.
b) thinner or fatter? Thinner.  Hooray!
c) richer or poorer? Richer.  Double Hooray, especially in light of #14!

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?

I wish I’d done more hiking and hung out with friends more. 

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?

Worrying about problems instead of doing anything to fix them.

20. How did you spend Christmas?

After celebrating Fake Christmas with my family, Joel and I spent Christmas Day at home, taking pictures of our cats dressed up in holiday outfits. 

21. Did you fall in love in 2007?

Yes, with my Tivo. 

22. What was your favorite TV program?

Well, Law and Order is still my favorite TV show, even though I thrive on the reruns and don’t keep up with the current storylines.  SVU is my favorite, followed closely by The Original, and CI is my least favorite of the three (that’s like my least favorite flavor of ice cream; I still love it, just not as much as the others). 

But if we’re talking “favorite show” in the terms of non-obsessive cult following, I think that my favorite would have to be The 4400.  I also loved Heroes and NCIS.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

No, I don’t think so.

24. What was the best book you read?

I’m also planning to do a Books of 2007 post, but the short answer is Lonesome Dove (thanks, Isabel!)

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?

Durr… that Gwen Stefani CD I keep talking about?

26. What did you want and get?

A peaceful household filled with pets who get along.

27. What did you want and not get?

To win the lottery.

28. What was your favorite film of this year?

Favorite that we saw in theaters: Live Free or Die Hard.  Or maybe The Bourne Ultimatum.  Both were awesome.

Favorite Neflixer: 8 Below, starring Paul Walker. 

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

It’s a good thing I have a blog, otherwise the answer to this question would have been “Um.  I can’t remember. “ But thanks to this interweb archive of my life, I can tell you that I went to Roy’s for dinner on my birthday last year.  I turned 26. 

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Winning the lottery.

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2007?

Three words: Ann Taylor Loft.

32. What kept you sane?

Coffee, and lots of it.   The dependability of TNT’s nighttime programming.   Tivo.  My fantastic friends.

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

Hands down, Scott Foley’s character on The Unit. 
 
34. What political issue stirred you the most?

Tie, between the war in Iraq and gay marriage.   (For the record, I’m wholeheartedly against the former and for the latter).

35. Who did you miss?

My friends Jenny and Beth, who live much too far away and should move to Baltimore right now.

36. Who was the best new person you met?

All the lovely ladies I met in DC: Isabel, Janet, Erika, Sarah, Lindsey, and Lauren.

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2007.

Just doing something is a whole lot more productive than worrying about doing it.   

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

Dude, I don't know.  Pick anything from the freakin Gwen Stefani CD.