Song of the Day: Vince Guaraldi Trio, "Christmastime is Here"

Christmastime Is Here (Vocal) ...

What do you do when you're having a Charlie Brown kind of weekend?


Why, buy the scrawniest Christmas tree in the lot, and make it beautiful, of course.

And boom goes the dynamite.

So Thankgsiving was rough for me this year. My homesickness combined with the sheer amount of butter I consumed knocked me out for the count, and I've spent the past two days in recovery mode.

BUT, speaking of butter, things could always go worse: at least I didn't get hit in the face with a ham.

Oh Paula Deen, bless your sweet heart.

I'm thankful...

For a warm apartment in a cold city.
For moments of joy on gloomy grey days.
For the chance to get by all on my own.
And the grace to know that if I can't, I'm still loved.

For work that I love with people who make me laugh.
For a family in good health, even if miles away.
For video chats with a room full of familiar faces.
For morning phone calls with friends on their lunch breaks.
For east coast night shift sleep schedules.

For rainboots.
For gore-tex.
For thrift stores.
For crock pots.
For bookstores.
For lattes.
For officially being able to listen to Christmas music.

For snowglobes.
For peppermint.
For twinkle lights.
And casseroles that remind me of home.

For the start of the advent season.
For the abundant love of Christ.

Song of the Day: Sufjan Stevens, "Put the Lights on the Tree"

Every year, I take a rather staunch stance on Christmas music. Though it's impossible to shield myself from the barrage of jingly cheer that flies in my face (and ears) every time I visit any sort of shopping center, I do my best to resist listening to any of my holiday favorites until the weekend after Thanksgiving. "Christmas Abstinence," I call it. It's just better when you wait.

This year, though, as much as I hate to admit it... I've been a bit of a Christmas whore. I haven't gone all the way yet... no Christmas movies, no decorations.. but I've had more than a few flings with some choice carols. Christmas is feeling me up, and I'm not stopping him.

One of my absolute holiday favorites is Sufjan Stevens. After three years of buying one song at a time for my Christmas mix (soon to be mailed, if you're one of the lucky few!), I finally bit the bullet and bought his 3 disc collection "Songs for Christmas" (buy it immediately-- you will not regret it). Unfortunately, I forgot to change the mailing address on my amazon account. So instead of showing up here, it arrived at my parents' house this weekend. Accident? Maybe. But I think someone up there doesn't want me to lose my Christmas virginity just yet.

But, c'mon! With songs like this one ringing in the advent season, who can blame me for trying?

Dear Carol Hannah...

I'm sorry you lost to Meana Irina.

Yes, her collection was more cohesive and she probably deserved the win.

But if I owned this dress. I would NEVER take it off.

Also, Irina was rude. And you are not. Actually, you're pretty awesome.

So, when Logan brings you back to Seattle to introduce you to his family before he proposes, let's do lunch. K?

Sincerely,
Your biggest fan

What the duck??

Confession: I spent the majority of my day surfing the internet. Chalk it up to nasty Seattle weather sucking away all the energy I've got left after the week, or blame it on my roommate for moving to Dubai for four months, leaving me with an apartment to myself and no accountability for getting out of bed before 3pm on the weekend. Fact is, nothing really excuses this level of laziness, and I'll be the the first to admit that I'm ashamed of the hours I've lost mindlessly wandering the life-sucking depths of cyberspace.

BUT, before I turn off my computer and resurface in the real world, I must tell you about a blog I stumbled upon today:

"Stop Making That Duckface."

Their banner reads:

"You know that face you make when you are about to take the perfect shot of yourself for myspace?? You know, the one where you push your mouth out in that weird combination of put and kissy face to make it look like you've got big, pouty lips and model quality cheekbones."

Oh, you mean this face??

Apparently this face has a name. And these guys don't think it's sexy or cool at all.

I'll admit, the photos on the website DO look pretty stupid. But for me, the duckface is kinda like blue steel. My trusty go-to pose that will turn any photo-op into a model moment.

Need proof?? Please parouse the following portfolio of my best duckface moments and see for yourselves how how sexy and versatile this look is...

The duckface spans the generations.

the seasons

and the nations.

It comes in all shapes and sizes

and attracts all sorts of men

and cuddly creatures.

The duckface dances

and swashbuckles

and contemplates

The duckface is always up for a good time.

My conclusion: the folks over at antiduckface.com can just go duck themselves. Because if the duckface is wrong, I don't want to be right.

It's back!

I've got the road trip bug again.


California: Summer 2010.

Any takers??

Song of the Day: Kanye West, "The New Workout Plan"

The New Workout Plan - Kanye W...

Parental (and grandparental) advisory warning. This song is filthy. But also great to do sit-ups to. Listen at your own risk.

So in an effort to not get fat and crabby this winter, I got myself a gym membership.

In typical west coast fashion, my gym is called "Om." and its motto is "tone your body, calm your mind." Very zen.

The truth is, I had ulterior motives. For one, attractive men usually hang out at gyms. Of course, since I have overactive sweat glands and generally soak through any and all clothing I wear for workouts, I'm not planning to actually talk to any of these specimens (also, cute boys make me sweat even more than workouts do... so there you have it), but, as someone who works in a field completely dominated by women and gay men, it's nice to breathe in a little testosterone every once in a while..

Also, the gym has really nice, warm showers. And since my apartment is a renovated attic and I can't stand in my leaky, cold drip of a shower without touching my head to the ceiling, the promise of a warm shower after working out was pretty enticing.

But lo and behold, despite my entirely superficial reasons for joining, I'm actually kinda enjoying working out (wha!!?). The gym has great equipment and pretty fun classes, and apparently workout-induced endorphins are pretty addictive-- who knew?

And get this-- this morning, determined to not let the time change get the best of me I went to spinning and yoga. At 6am.

Let me repeat that. I, who spent my summer not working and sleeping until noon, took a workout class at 6am. Which means I had to wake up at 5:15 to get ready and out the door on time.

You know the crazy thing? I'm still awake. And I feel amazing. Refreshed. And kinda Sexy.

Who knows, next time you run into me, my mom-butt may look more like buns of steel.

But then again, that may just be the new pair of Spanx I bought at Nordstrom Rack this weekend...

If I had 500 dollars right now...

I would buy these.

My apologies to the third world, at large. Please ignore the fact that 500 dollars could probably build a new well in your village or provide immunizations and life-saving medications for your children. Or that the material for these boots probably came from the hide of an animal whose meat could have fed your family for a month.

I am a terrible, vain, selfish American and right now all I can think about is exiting a room with exquisite leather bows gracing the backs of my calves.