Last Meal

Here's an interesting article about death row inmates' last meals.

I am not for the death penalty, but I think it's kind of strange that we maintain this 'last meal' tradition. It doesn't bother me that much, but the people these convicts murdered didn't get to choose and enjoy their last meals, that's for sure.

What Really Grinds Wednesday's Gears

I really like food. I love it. And I can really pack it in. Although, after I eat I usually feel sick... undoubtedly because I either eat too fast, or too much, or am probably lactose intolerant but am too afraid to find out for sure. Either way, I like food.

Tonight on the local evening news I learned of a "real danger" known as "orthorexia," and I just want to say- this really grinds my gears.

Really? Eating too healthy? That's like suffering from "not being lazy," or from "getting too many straight A's." I hate when people suffer from these conveniently flattering disabilities.

I've known one too many girls (sorry, yes girls) who claim to suffer from orthorexia. Though I've never heard them use the term "orthorexia." It usually sounds like, "I don't like salad dressing." Or, "Oh I eat fruit for dessert."

Gosh, that really grinds my gears.



Two please.

Girl Wednesday's Pick: Dancing-in-Her-Apartment Song

You might recognize this song from the Adidas commercial. We heard it recently on the boardwalk of Venice Beach. When we got back to the hotel, my friend hunted the song down on her laptop. We found it on Youtube and played it over and over and over....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ync5XfNNPo

Two Norwegian dudes made it. Here they are in concert:

Wednesday's Exciting Moments in TV Production: I Love L.A.

This past weekend brought me to Los Angeles where a producer-friend of mine and I did some filming of a local personality-- a DJ/break dancer/actor/model.

I have a really fun job.

At this club, Boulevard 3, there was a white lucite stage that raised behind the glowing, neon bar and patrons watched and cheered from the surrounding dance floor and the mezzanine balcony as the performances ensued...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IM-WjhOZdTY&feature=youtube_gdata

Break dancing is back!

Dreamy TV Man Pick of the Week: House MD

I could say that for me, it's his acerbic elitism, the way he tackles only the most unsolvable medical mysteries, his Nikes, or his love for rock n' roll, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit that what I love most about Dr. House is the possibility he represents that there really is a doctor out there who can figure out and cure almost anything.

Conceived in the likeness of my beloved Sherlock Holmes, Dr. Gregory House is all business. And even limping down the hospital hall on his cane, even while reduced to the everyday details of his desperate Vicodin addiction, and most recently, putting himself out there at a costume party, only to be rejected by his love- hospital administrator Cuddy-- he is still so dreamy.

My new obsession

The first step is admitting you have a problem.

I, similar to GirlFriday (with her fondness for Ethan Allen interior decorating), have an unhealthy obsession with real estate and furniture. I don't know when it happened. Probably some time during all the craziness of wedding planning when I realized that after the "big day" was over, I'd have lots of free time to plan the "ever after." I'm sure HT could tell you when he first started noticing the longer period of time I would spend pouring over the Pottery Barn Catalogue. . . I'm surprised he hasn't started throwing them out before I get home like I do with his Griots' garage car-washing supply catalogues. . . but I digress.

Somewhere in the last two years, I have really, really started to want to buy a home. It has something to do with throwing upwards of a few thousand dollars away in rent each month, but it also has to do with just wanting walls I can paint and rooms to decorate, and a big red front door with an antique looking knocker.

HT and I spent the better part of Sunday afternoon wandering around a little haven outside of DC where we'd love to be able to buy a place. We clip-clopped along brick sidewalks and popped in and out of cafes and boutiques trying to avoid strollers and dogs, smiling families, and tourists. We sat for clam chowder looking out at the potomac, somewhat exhausted from our prior evening's activities and wished that we could just plop down right there, put down roots, and stop all the what-ifs that come with the ACTUAL headaches of homeownership.

The problem with the obsession is that it's fun right now. We haven't broached the topic with lenders, we haven't really, earnestly, tried to figure out what we can afford, and we haven't set foot across a threshhold yet. And I'm certain that once we make those steps, my tone might change. But right now, home to me is clapboard and blue shutters with a red door and crooked, colonial front step. And filled with pottery barn furniture. . .

Bad Sports

Saw this first thing this morning. What a bad sport! Someone find me a campaign where we can get her banned from soccer…..
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JC-pF3OHY1c