I had big plans for tonight. My parents and my brother were coming to my house for dinner. The plans wouldn’t have been that important except that my brother had never seen my house and my parents have only stopped by briefly a few times. So this was a big moment.
I’d planned the menu. I’d figured out how I’d have the exact amount of time needed to put up my Christmas tree and decorations. I’d cleaned my house. I’d even gotten wood for the first fire in my fireplace. It was supposed to be perfect.
Unfortunately, my life doesn’t actually work that way. The following things happened:
1) My tree was too big for the stand. I couldn’t find a new stand (even at Family Dollar where I increased my chance of being mugged during 2009 by about 80%) and attempting to cut the trunk with a knife resulted in me cutting my finger and bleeding on a lot of things. Including my sweater.
2) My heat cut off while I was home for the holiday. Apparently I never bothered transferring my gas bill to this house so I probably owe a ridiculous amount of money to the gas company. And I don’t have heat. It’s 40 degrees outside. Rosie is now wearing a hoodie.
3) Despite the tree now being on my back deck, it spent some significant time in my living room. And dining room. Which resulted in an obscene amount of pine needles. Which would have been fine, but when I started vacuuming them up, something started burning in the vacuum and it started smoking. And smelling pretty terrible.
4) Speaking of smoking, when the fire was actually lit, the first five minutes involved something that looked like a roaring bonfire in my living room and smoke spilling into the room, my mother holding the front door open to air it out, and me praying the smoke alarm didn’t go off.
5) The night was still fun. It’s convenient that my family’s love for me has absolutely nothing to do with my home keeping skills. They wore sweatshirts to dinner in the cold house and only told me once that I was an idiot for trying to cut through a Christmas tree with a kitchen knife. Overall, I’d say it was a success.
What I’m thankful for. Today. In no particular order.
First, this movie looks ridiculously good. Second, Morgan Freeman was freaking born to play Nelson Mandela. It’s like Tina Fey playing Sarah Palin. Or, you know, Sienna Miller playing me once I finally get famous.
It’s destiny.
Rosie and I took some practice photos over the weekend for the Christmas card this year. In case you’re confused, she’s going to be an elf. Of course, the tricky part of being an elf when you’re actually a dachshund is keeping your elf hat and ears from slipping over your eyes.
This is why I love the internet. Because there are videos out there of babies doing the stanky leg and without it, there’s a distinct chance I wouldn’t see them.
I have historically had terrible music taste. Well, not so much “terrible” as music taste revolving around the radio and rap. In 2009 though I decided as one of my New Year’s resolutions to improve said taste. (I also decided to learn Spanish and run a half marathon. Some of my New Years resolutions aren’t happening.) But, I did start going to a variety of concerts and have actually really taken to listening to bands they don’t play on Top 40 stations.
And so, I declared myself a hipster. My brother promptly and correctly declared me a poser. I was ok with that since most hipsters are posers. It kind of seemed appropriate.
This morning, for the first time EVER, my brother sent me some stuff about a band I was already well aware of. I may have over-reacted. I may have used more exclamation points in my reaction than a 12-year-old girl in a love note. He called me a poser again. Then we went back and forth with our indie music knowledge. Then I called him a show off. And then this was his response:
Listen, I was listening to indie rock when you were still discovering Bone Thugs, and when you were hippity hoppin along to Please Pass the Peas Yeah, I was listening to Mustard Plug’s old stuff. I shifted from Less than Jake to the Forces of Evil as you shifted from Slim Shady to Eminem. So before you put on your skinny jeans, and extra eye liner, and call yourself an indie connoisseur you need to look back and figure out where it all began. Indie didn’t just appear out of thin air maaan it was born, and I knew its parents. So suck on that, sons of bitches.
It might be time for me to give up my hipster dreams.
I can’t say for sure, but I suspect that 90% of the time when I’m taking photos of Rosie she’s thinking “Seriously woman. Get that camera out of my face. There is sleeping to be done here.”
I’m sick. And have been for several days. For this reason—and because I’m taking excessive amounts of DayQuil, my brain is functioning at about 30% capacity. I keep starting sentences and forgetting to end them. This morning I was talking to myself and forgot what I was talking about. That is not good.
Anyway, a thought occurred to me today that I wanted to share. I probably wouldn’t want to share except that now that I have the IQ level of a poodle, this seems like a totally interesting thought. It’s really not.
Today I noticed that because I follow certain people on Twitter and on Tumblr who share similar interests to me, I continually saw the same thing over and over again. As in, I am now very aware of when Lost will premier, when Oprah is quitting, and what Vampire Weekend’s new video looks like.
The other day I was having a conversation about people who watch Fox news. Basically, the point of the people involved in the conversation was to say that people who watch Fox news are obviously watching to have their own biases confirmed. (Those biases being that President Obama is the devil and Sarah Palin is the second coming.)
I scorned those people. Silly fools watching biased news networks. And then I made some pretentious remarks about getting my news from varied sources. It occurs to me though (as I read the 47th post about Lost) that perhaps I’m exactly like them. I may have more sources from which I get my “news,” but ultimately, I’ve done exactly what they do in that I’ve chosen places and people with similar interests/thoughts.
I guess everyone does it. Anyway, I realize this isn’t a novel thought. Or a new one. Or even that deep of one. I was just thinking it.
I’m going to take more DayQuil now.
I love: Chocolates that taste like lavender. Cabernet. The softness of my dog's ears. Asia. Hearing a great song for the first time. And the 100th. The color blue. Wearing things in my hair. The ocean. Sitting in my parents' backyard. Old photos. The view from Primrose Hill in London. Coffee table books. 
