Snowicane 2013

As the entire world prepares for Snowicane 2013 ("GET IN YOUR PURPLE BENTLEYS AND GO HOME TO YOUR SHARKS!". Oh, 30 Rock. How I miss you already), I am busy trying to wipe the shit-eating grin off my face, because as we all know, I love blizzards. As my coworkers all discussed exit strategies and VPN connections and then left promptly at 5pm to go hoard bread and water, I hightailed it to pick up the one item no "major weather event" is complete without:

Priorities. I got 'em in spades.

Adequate amounts of chardonnay and malbec safely procured, I was free to go about my planned evening of self-indulgence. Andrew had plans with his marginally competitive drinking softball team last night, which meant I had the rare opportunity to do whatever I wanted. While I love that we have been cohabitating for the past two years, those of you who have been there know what I mean. Rare are the times that I get to prowl around my 1- bedroom apartment in a turby-twist and my brother's sweatpants while foraging for snacks, belting Britney at the top of my lungs and getting all teary over "my programs" sans judgment. When the opportunity presents itself, it is my civic duty to seize it with gusto.

Naturally, my evening included a glass of chard in the shower, a plate of cheese and turkey pepperoni for dinner and a television event that I have been dreading for weeks: the series finale of Gossip Girl.

I'm not going to get into my thoughts on the finale today because I need more time to process it. I know I had already shed tears by the 15-minute mark, and that Andrew came home to find me sobbing into my pillow because 1) I accidentally knocked my Nook off my bedside table and now it looks like an Etch-a-Sketch and 2) some things just need to be wailed about ad nauseum ("BUT XYZ IS GOSSIP GIIIRRRLLL!"). Suffice to say I haven't mourned the end of a show that was already off the air so much since Veronica Mars.

This morning, I got up, got dressed and headed to the office, because apparently science is like the US Postal Service of the STEM sector and doesn't believe in inclement weather. Since I walked to work (because cardio, duh!), I made sure to forgo my usual Michelle Obama-worthy peacoat and went with my trusty Columbia -- it might be almost ten years old, but that baby blue beast and I have been through a lot together (see: tubing, accident while) and I have yet to find another article of clothing that can keep me warm in single-digit windchill.

But I digress.

To all of my friends and readers in the Northeast -- may you be blessed with the essentials (warm shelter, electricity, food, water and no significant damage to your property/home) and the comforts (wine, cable, netflix, wine, board games, books, wine) that make for a positive blizzard experience. Batten down those hatches and stay warm!

Lemoning

Despite my enthusiasm for my brand new toy, I chose to use the down time on my vacation to do really important things, like this:
 
And this:

Seriously, though, I always hate when people complain about needing a vacation from their vacation. It makes me want to give them a lecture on how fortunate they are to have a job from which to take a vacation, let alone be in a financial position to do so.

But this time, I sort of understand how they feel.

For the past two months, I just haven't felt right. Thoughts swirl around in my brain on an endless loop, combing over a laundry list of things I'd like to do. Things I want to do. Things I have to do. Laundry itself is climbing damn near the top of the latter, but I just can't find the time to do it. I'm waking up in the middle of the night to the alarming sound of blood rushing through my ears. The creepy chest pain that was popping up earlier this year is back, which is apparently normal for whatever fancy-pants name they applied to "benign chest wall pain" in my chart. I'm sluggish, snappy, and annoyed by everything and almost everyone. It certainly doesn't appear to have gone unnoticed, either, as most people are making it a point to ask if everything is ok, which I actually do appreciate. Then there are the jackasses who throw out the ever-inspiring, "you don't look so great, are you getting sick?" on the three days I've actually put an effort into my beauty routine. To which I nonchalantly reply, "Go screw."

The fact that this latest bout of "whatever" dovetails perfectly with my ankle injury has not escaped my attention. Elle Woods was really on to something with the whole, "Exercise gives you endorphins. Endorphins make you happy! And happy people just don't shoot their husbands!" thing. When I was training for the half, I was one endorphin way from channeling Kenneth on 30 Rock. People were going out of their way to comment on my good mood which is, for me, unheard of. And then, with the crack of an ankle, I began a slow journey to crankyville. I Lemoned.


I can't even begin to describe how much I needed last week off, just to get out of the city, my apartment, my work and, to some degree, my own head. I had big plans to lay on a beach, read a few books, drink a few beers and finally make like Stella and get after my groove. I was truly exhausted, both mentally and physically.

And despite my best efforts to rejuvenate my spirits through a week of rest and, well, spirits, I would be lying if I said that I was feeling much better than I did before I left.
Some of that, of course, is just post-vacation blues talking. I get that. But I still can’t shake the feeling that I am somehow spiraling out of control, even though I can’t pinpoint exactly why. It reminds me of how I felt in college, when I ended up so anxious that I couldn’t leave my dorm room without having a legitimate panic attack. That’s unnerving.
With that in mind, I have decided to start really pushing myself to actively participate in my own life, rather than just sit around and let my anxiety run amok. It’s a technique that I learned while going through cognitive behavioral therapy, and I’ve found that re-focusing my nervous energy and channeling it towards positive goals seems to really help my stress level. Running and exercise did that for awhile, but since that isn’t an option at the moment, it’s time to set new goals. 

And on that note, I’m off to scale a veritable mountain of laundry.

The Boob Tube: Part 1

I'm not sure where all of my readers live, but if your locale is experiencing anything like the weather we're enjoying here in New England, you have my most heartfelt pity.

Despite my massive love of horrible weather, even I draw the line at two solid weeks of gloomy, grey skies and drizzle. A roaring blizzard that dumps three feet of snow in under 48 hours? Sign me up. Yet another morning with the sound of splashing cars and that disgusting "glow" coming through my window? No, thank you.

I've never been the "outdoorsy type" anyway -- there was a time in my youth when my mother literally threatened to "burn my books" if I didn't get my ass outside to play (I informed her that book burning was frowned upon and, if she chose to do so, I would report her to the ACLU for a civil rights infraction. Then I enjoyed a delicious dessert of Dial). Something about being FORCED to be cooped up inside, however, drives me a bit berserk.

Thankfully, there is a saving grace: television.

One might assume that because we don't have cable or internet, we're stuck peering through neighbors' windows in an attempt to catch our weekly shows. However, due to some miracle of science, we actually DO get regular cable if we plug into our wall -- all four major networks, PBS, the CW and enough CatholicTV and Telemundo that I could probably become an honorary member of the Little Sisters of the Dominican if I wanted to.

So, since the rain isn't due to stop until at least Sunday, I thought I'd share my current favorite TV obsessions over the next few days, starting with the shows that I actually watch, WHEN THEY AIR, which is a real rarity. 

These are the shows I actually watch in real time:

Dancing With the Stars 
ABC, Mondays at 8pm

I think we've already established this, but this season, I've been pretty good about tuning in to DWTS, despite never actually following it before. It amazes me that those women can do all those fast moves and elegant turns in heels -- and look good doing it! -- and that the men are so graceful, all while emanating radiant confidence, poise and sex. Team Kirstie all the way, although Chelsea has done a lot to win me over these past few weeks! (Plus, any time we can see Maks sans shirt, I am not one to complain).

Castle 
ABC, Mondays at 10pm

[Source]

Move over Maks, because Nathan Fillion is the real sex on a stick. That hair. Those witty quips! The vest that says "Writer!" I love it all. I first tuned in when my former boss told me I'd love it -- it started out with me Netflixing Season 1, and Andrew was good enough to play along and watch with me. I expected it to be just another frivolous cop show: murders! intrigue! weird sexual innuendo! But while Castle is a lighthearted take on its big "police show" cousins, that doesn't make it bad. In fact, the writing is stellar, the cast gels like overnight oats, and Stana Katic and Nathan Fillion (Beckett and Castle, respectively) manage to portray a relationship that sizzles with chemistry yet doesn't leave me ready to throw my shoe through the screen if they don't just get together already (except that one time...but I digress).  

The Office
NBC, Thursdays at 9pm

[Source]

I resisted The Office for as long as I possibly could. I dated a real douche for a long time, and since he luuuuurved the hijinks of Dunder Mifflin Paper Co. and Co. sooooo much, I had to hate it on principle.  And then I met Andrew, and when he has downtime, he pops one of three things into the DVD player to relax: The Simpsons, Rocky IV, or The Office. At some point, I realized I was laughing, too -- and knew I was REALLY a fan when I realized that the only character I currently hate more than Jim and Pam is their spawn, CeCe. And maybe Gabe. I really hate Gabe.

30 Rock 
NBC, Thursdays at 10pm

[Source]

Simply said, 30 Rock is probably the funniest show no one I know is watching. Tina Fey is a comedic genius, both on-screen and in the writer's room (and I'm not just saying that because I just finished reading Bossypants and at one point had to consider investing in some Depends). The fact that I am at least 50% Liz Lemon nonwithstanding, the ensemble cast is one of the best ever compiled -- Tracy Morgan's "Tracy Jordan" and Alec Baldwin's "Jack Donaghey" alone are worth tuning in. "Kenneth the Page" is my favorite character, though... last season's finale, where he gets fired and goes on a drunken tirade, is my favorite moment: "Kiss my face and I'll see you in heaven!" manages to work its way into my lexicon at least once a week.

Well, there you have it. All four shows that I actually make the time to sit down and watch.  I also watch a lot of sporting events when I get the chance, namely anything having to do with the Bruins for the past two months or so.In the event I cannot get to a bar to watch said games, we have resorted to pretending we live in 1940, and listen to the radio.

Have you ever listened to playoff hockey on the radio?!

If you have any kind of heart issue, I suggest you don't.

Stay tuned!
Up next: Shows I Am At Least a Season Behind On But Watch Anyway