She’s ready for her close-up

This weekend Boyfriend and I drove a couple hours to see my niece in her annual spring dance recital. I have two nieces, one is 7 and the other is 2. I don’t believe I’m exaggerating when I state that they are the most intelligent and gorgeous children on the planet. They really are. I think they might be, like, prodigals or something.

Anyway, every spring their dance company puts on “Broadway in the Foothills” and the kids perform dance and song numbers from Broadway shows. When Niece #1 started dance lessons a few years ago, she had a tiny, yet adorable, walk-on part in the Nutcracker and every year her adoring fans (her parents, her grandparents and her aunts and uncles) watch her parts get just a little bit bigger and a little bit more difficult.

This year, she OWNED the show. She was in four numbers: “Steam Heat” from Fosse (her longest number and she got to rock a fancy fedora hat), “Uptown Girl” from Stepping Out (she had to touch a boy which she handled with the utmost professionalism), “I Just Can’t Wait to Be King” from Lyon King (a catchy little tune that I have been singing for about 3 days now) and a song from Newsies that I can’t remember right now. She was the littlest Newsie on stage and almost got stepped on a few times, but she held her own because she is a pro.

There is something very thrilling about watching a child you love on stage, in costume, bathed in stage lights. The pride washes over me and I don’t see anyone else on stage except her. I get a little teary just thinking about it.

My sister told me after the show that Miss Paula (the dance instructor) was going to cast Niece #1 as a soloist for the Nutcracker in December because she is THAT GOOD, people. Get ready. We’ll be seeing her name in lights very soon.

And she better remember to thank me when she wins that first Tony Award.

The lesser of two evils

Ew. Harold and Tiffani are the final two? These are my choices for Top Chef? I give up. Harold is a whiny baby and Tiffani is…..gross. She’s just plain gross.

I don’t fell compelled in the slightest to watch the finale now. The only reason I will tune in is to see Gail Simmons' fabulous wardrobe. Her stylist is a genius at the “full figure” and I want her phone number immediately.

"We got caught in a net."

Ok, so now that I have quiet 30-minute morning commute to reflect on my life and the purpose of it……I had a LOT of time this morning to contemplate last night’s episode of Lost.

- Where did Locke gimp off to at the end of the episode with such purpose? He was headed in the opposite direction of the funeral for Libby and Ana Lucia?

- Did Walt ever live in England? Because Boyfriend and I think that Mr. Ekko was talking about Walt when he was telling Michael about the boy who killed his sister’s dog. True, we don’t know if Walt has a sister, but we didn’t know that Jack had a sister until last week either.

- How much of a freakin’ stud is Sayid for figuring out that Michael was a big fat liar? I HEART him, even though I don’t really like his beard right now?

- So, is Walt all into astral projection or something? Because the freaky be-yotch was asking Michael if he ever “saw” Walt in places where he wasn’t supposed to be?

- How many of you think that Desmond is on the boat?

- Who has the list of names figured out? I can’t for the life of me figure out what Hurley, Jack, Kate and Sawyer have in common?

- How many of you noticed how much older Walt looked? I mean, it must be a year of filming since his last scene? That’s going to be tough to keep Walt 8 years old, or however old he really is. Maybe they’ll write it in to the story…..like the island makes children grow faster.

I can’t believe that next week is the finale! AND, we’ll be flying in to North Carolina so I can meet Boyfriend’s dad and step-mom. Something tells me that they aren’t going to respond too kindly to me saying, “HI! Nice to meet you, um, where’s your TV, b/c it’s the Lost Finale and I can’t really wait an entire week to get back to my TIVO to figure out what happened b/c someone like KK or Kenneth or Timm or Denise is going to call me and say ‘omigod can you believe what happened’ and they are going to spoil it for me so I hope you understand that I have to excuse myself for 2 hours, won’t you? Thanks.”

my love knows no bounds

I have waxed poetic about my love for Paula Deen before. I heart her. And I heart her sons. More importantly, I heart her son's chili.

I made this recipe for the 2nd time last night and it's freakin' GOOD ya'll. Except I used 2 cans of black beans (no kidney beans) and I omitted the celery. OH, and I included a can of Coke, a little tip I picked up from my friend's husband Brian. I don't know what it does, but Coke makes everything in the world right.

It's super easy and makes enough to feed about 28 people.

I wonder if he'll stop dyeing his hair now

Apparently Sir Paul and Heather are caput. And they are blaming the media for the split. I'm sure it had nothing to do with that fact that she is younger than his children.

The Face of the Nation

I guess that's that.

The Survivor Finale was last night. I remember very little of the evening due to the entire bottle of wine that I consumed which has given me a headache the size of Texas.

But here are the basics: Cirie didn't win. Aras did. Danielle is a female version of a tool. Terry is bitter. Shane was wearing a peasant blouse that I'm assuming he borrowed from Sally. And Courtney the Fire Dancer apparently removed the knife of betrayal from her back and cast it into a pool of peace and love and forgiveness or something retarded like that.

Blah. I'm sure I'll watch the new season, b/c I'm weak and I can't seem to stop, but I'll complain the whole time and I'll hate everyone.

Ginger Spice is a mom

Who knew? And more accurately, who cares?

But congrats. And it probably sucks that the press is having a field day with you apparently getting knocked up during a brief affair with a drug addict.

An Ode to my Boyfriend

Boyfriend is so lovely. He’s been laid up in our 1-bedroom apartment for almost 3 weeks after foot surgery and he has really only been mopey once or twice. He has been particularly sweet the past few days in helping my buy a car, so I have composed the following Thank You Note to him.

Boyfriend,

Thank you for avoiding the Triple Word Score.

Thank you for telling me that my nieces are the most adorable girls in the world and meaning it.

Thank you for hiring a housecleaner.

Thank you for ordering Burmese take-out when you know I don’t want to cook.

Thank you for watching The Real Housewives of Orange County with me.

Thank you for actually contributing catty comments while watching The Real Housewives of Orange County with me.

Thank you for not complaining TOO loud that I stopped buying Coke Zero after I decided you were drinking too much soda.

Thank you for recycling the Diet Dr. Pepper bottles that you buy when I’m not around before I get home.

Thank you for buying new jeans when I informed you that your old jeans were too short.

Thank you for listening to me fret and worry and kvetch about money, housing prices, my job, my gramma and just about everything else.

Thank you for always reminding me where we are parked.

“Thank you India.

Thank you providence.

Thank you disillusionment”

oh, for god's sake

Bush's proudest moment in office.

YIKES

I haven't been reading too much about this, because, frankly, I don't care.

But.......he's "relieving" himself by tube?

Does ANYONE care about this?

IPOD-induced memories

Since I can’t seem to think of much to say these days that doesn’t involve reality TV, I’m borrowing from someone far more witty and original than I. Dooce put her IPOD on shuffle the other day and wrote about the first 10 songs that popped up. Here is my less witty variation on the same theme.

Luka, by Suzanne Vega: I remember the first time I heard this song, I thought it was the dumbest song I ever heard. I was about 17 and I was semi-mentally retarded, which most 17-year-old girls are. I believe I said something like, “What the hell kind of name is Luka, and why do I care if she lives on the 2nd floor?” before I put in my trusty New Order tape. These days, however, I find Suzanne Vega’s voice so beautiful and Luka’s story is so touching and mysterious (do we know if Luka is a battered adult or child? Being beaten by a parent or a husband?), that I list it as one of my favorites.

The Strangest Party, INXS: Um, has anyone ever heard of this song before?. It’s on the Greatest Hits Album and I had never heard it before. Is this a bonus track or something? This song is so lame and over-produced that I can’t even really hear Michael Hutchence’ voice. I think I must fast forward.

Don’t Change, INXS: Ok, so much for “shuffle.” Another INXS song. But it’s ok, because this is one of my FAVORITE INXS songs from the Shabooh Shabah album. This song was pre-Listen Like Thieves so they were still pretty unknown. I heard this album for the first time at Deanna’s house when I was probably 15. Her sister Shannon was listening to it and since I thought Shannon was, like, the coolest person EVER, I bought the tape and wore it out. This song is fantastic. The way he sings, “Things have been dark for too long” makes me love him all over again, even though he has been dead for really long time.

Possession, Sarah McLachlan: Oh god, I love this song. I’m not sure I believe Sarah’s unwavering story that the lyrics to this song were entirely written by a man that was stalking her. I mean, that stalker would have to be one HELL of a writer, but whatever, I’ll forgive her anything because this song is fantastic. It’s even better live, but this is the version from Fumbling Toward Ecstasy. This CD was pretty much the soundtrack of my sophomore year in college. I think I had three versions, one for my car, one for my room in my apartment and one for my walkman for school. I was never without Sarah. Hmmmm, maybe I was the one stalking her……

I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For, Rattle and Hum live version: I’m on a pretty good roll here. This is another oldie but goodie. I bought the Rattle and Hum soundtrack with Kelly my senior year of high school. I was still in the semi-mentally retarded phase of my life, so I’m pretty sure I was wearing all black and not talking to my mother for some reason. But at least I had the good sense to recognize that adding the Voices of Freedom gospel choir to a song only adds to its listen-ability. I get sad when I listen to this album b/c I remember how great U2 used to be before Bono became the media whore that he is today. Or maybe he was a media whore in 1988 too, but I was just too retarded to know it.

Need you Tonight, INXS: WHAT THE HELL? What is going on with all the INXS? So, this video was the first time I really understood what a sexy bitch Michael Hutchence was. I got a tingly feeling “down there” the first time I saw him in those tight black pants. It was this song, or more accurately, this video that launched a period of my life I like to refer to as “Kirsten’s INXS Invasion”. If it wasn’t INXS, I wasn’t listening to it. The INXS Invasion lasted pretty much until I discovered that there a lot of sexy bitches at my high school that I could obsess over who might actually talk back to me on the quad. Not that any of them did, but a girl could (and did) dream.

Pretty Piece of Flesh, One Inch Punch: I have no idea who these guys are, but this song was on the Romeo and Juliet soundtrack. It has an awesome bass line. I listen to this song at the gym all the time on the treadmill because it pumps me up. Oh that’s right…..I said “pump.”

Hotel California, The Eagles: Yes. I like the Eagles. Shoot me. And I love this song. This song reminds me the trips I would take to Palo Alto to see my sister. I would roll up all the windows and attempt to harmonize with Don Henley. You do it too. Don’t lie.

I Love Rock and Roll, Joan Jett: Do I need to even say it? Because you know you want to belt it out: “And has was with me, YEAH, me……” You know she was only about 17 when she wrote this lovely ballad about picking up a boy in a bar and taking him home for a one night stand? SO ladylike.

Testosterone, Bush: I bought this album, well, pretty much because Gavin Rossdale is really pretty. But, I’ll be honest…..Bush SUCKS. I mean, is he really singing about being “big into war” and being a “big old whore” just because it rhymes? Oh Gavin. Just shut up and have lots of pretty kids with Gwen. And try to talk her into less make-up. Because you can’t possibly like her wearing all that shit on her face. Right?

Must See TV

Boyfriend and I caught up on Top Chef and Survivor last night, and I must say, I was not happy with either show’s ending.

On Top Chef, I have been rooting for Leann since Quickfire Challenge 1. She has integrity. She has a sense of humor. She has leadership skills. She has been pleasant and supportive to all the other competitors. AND she can cook. So, please tell me, in the name of all that is just and right…..WHY on earth Tiffani is in the final 3? Girlfriend is just downright UNPLEASANT in every sense of the word. And I really wish she would stop wearing that pink polo with popped collar.

And now on to Survivor. I think I might get tarred and feathered for this, but I might be one of the only people in America who actually likes Shane. I find him quite amusing. I find his emotion for his son very touching and genuine. His friendship with Cirie is very supportive.

That said, he’s really crazy, inappropriate and annoying. Therefore, everyone should WANT to take him to the Final 2. Everyone would win against him. I can’t figure out the game these people are playing.

But I will miss Shane’s comments like: “She is one loopy broad," in reference to Courtney, the “fire dancer.” I mean, who SAYS that?

Lost: SPOILERS

Ding Dong the Witch is Dead…..is all I have to say. RIP Ana Lucia, you freakin’ drunk driver.

Last night’s Lost was excellent. FINALLY, some forward movement in the story!

Here’s what I think, and it’s a fairly obvious conclusion: Michael was sent back to camp to draw the Losties to the Others, in exchange for getting Walt back. I believe that he shot himself in the ARM, not the heart (b/c if you were going to kill yourself, wouldn’t you shoot yourself in the head?) to make it appear like Henry escaped, got the gun and shot Ana Lucia, Libby and Michael.

And I don’t think that Libby is dead. I think she will wake up just in time to tell Hurley that it’s all a set up.

And clearly Jack’s dad is a bigger force in this story than we had previously thought. Wouldn’t surprise me if somehow, Claire ends up being Jack’s sister or something.

Thoughts

Project Blog Re-Scope

Dear Readers,

Ten years ago I sold my car in an effort to respect the planet. (Ok, I give! I HAD to sell my car because parking in San Francisco was driving me to drink. More than I already did at the age of 24.) I take my role as an environmentalist fairly seriously…..I walk to work when it’s sunny and I take public transportation when it’s raining. I take the train to visit family, rather than renting a car.

I have enjoyed not driving immensely. There is something to VERY Sex and the City-ish in meeting my coworkers at the bar downstairs, knocking back a couple mojitos and then hopping in a cab together to our respective corners of the city.

But I have recently reached my breaking point with public transportation. I currently spend 2.5 hours a day on a bus. Do you know what I can do in 2.5 hours? Think about what you can accomplish in 2.5 hours and then multiply it by two, because I’m really good at multi-tasking. I, along with Boyfriend, decided that it was time for me to buy a car.

I’m sure, dear reader, you are asking why I am telling you this. Because, I will no longer have 2.5 hours a day for pleasure reading. Therefore, the purpose of this blog is null and void. I’m sure all 8 of you are disappointed.

I will still be posting frequently, just not always about books. This actually opens the door for me to discuss my love of Lost, my nieces, the annoying hair that grows out of my right cheek and any reality TV show that I’m currently addicted to. Right now, that happens to be Top Chef.

I am feeling quite conflicted about buying a car and being a drone who sits in traffic by herself every day, singing off-key to Kelly Clarkson. I feel bad that I’m contributing to smog and noise pollution and the diminishing ozone. However, as my coworker brilliantly stated: “What has the ozone ever done for me, except give me a sunburn.”

Project Blog Re-Scope

Dear Readers,

Ten years ago I sold my car in an effort to respect the planet. (Ok, I give! I HAD to sell my car because parking in San Francisco was driving me to drink. More than I already did at the age of 24.) I take my role as an environmentalist fairly seriously…..I walk to work when it’s sunny and I take public transportation when it’s raining. I take the train to visit family, rather than renting a car.

I have enjoyed not driving immensely. There is something to VERY Sex and the City-ish in meeting my coworkers at the bar downstairs, knocking back a couple mojitos and then hopping in a cab together to our respective corners of the city.

But I have recently reached my breaking point with public transportation. I currently spend 2.5 hours a day on a bus. Do you know what I can do in 2.5 hours? Think about what you can accomplish in 2.5 hours and then multiply it by two, because I’m really good at multi-tasking. I, along with Boyfriend, decided that it was time for me to buy a car.

I’m sure, dear reader, you are asking why I am telling you this. Because, I will no longer have 2.5 hours a day for pleasure reading. Therefore, the purpose of this blog is null and void. I’m sure all 8 of you are disappointed.

I will still be posting frequently, just not always about books. This actually opens the door for me to discuss my love of Lost, my nieces, the annoying hair that grows out of my right cheek and any reality TV show that I’m currently addicted to. Right now, that happens to be Top Chef.

I am feeling quite conflicted about buying a car and being a drone who sits in traffic by herself every day, singing off-key to Kelly Clarkson. I feel bad that I’m contributing to smog and noise pollution and the diminishing ozone. However, as my coworker brilliantly stated: “What has the ozone ever done for me, except give me a sunburn.”