On the Next Episode of Hoarders

While helping to empty out her husband’s storage unit, a wife makes the startling realization of just HOW MUCH mid-century furniture, accessories, objects and art he has been “collecting” over the past several years.

The perpetrator unloading the third of eleventy million cartloads.

My New Disorder

I have recently diagnosed myself with IADD. Internet Attention Deficit Disorder. The internet has turned my brain into a huge cataclysm of MORE INFORMATION NEED MORE INFORMATION NOW NOW NOW. I can’t just watch television. I can’t just listen to music. I can’t do anything for more than thirty minutes without compulsively lifting my laptop screen to check my email or write a Hair Thursday post or google the nearest self-serve yogurt place or visit my favorite blogs or search YouTube for videos of how to poach an egg or map out my next jogging route or buy cute shoes at Piperlime or check Twitter. What would happen if I suddenly lost all access to the internet? I WOULD SURELY CEASE TO EXIST, YO.

I can barely get through a television program anymore. The only ones that completely capture my attention are Mad Men, So You Think You Dance, Top Chef and Project Runway. All the rest are just so booooring with the talk talk talk and the fast-forwarding of the commercials and OH MY GOD I COULD TOTALLY LOOK UP THE 7-DAY WEATHER FORECAST FOR BOLIVIA RIGHT NOW.

……………………….

What was I saying again?

Oh yeah, IADD. Thank the lord I have a child that can’t stand being inside during the day. If Wito didn’t keep me on my toes with playdates, errands and Gymboree classes, I swear I would be locked in a dark room subsisting on Trader Joe’s Pita Crisps and the glow of my laptop.

So! I’m trying to cut back my computer usage during the evenings while I’m doing…you know…things that you do when you are not using the computer. Like watching television programs? Is that what the people are doing these days?

Since I now have the attention span of a gnat, I’ve created my own fun game called Create Odd Facial Expressions By Pausing The Television In Order To Keep From Absolute IADD-Induced Boredom. (No, I am not kidding. I joyfully entertain myself with this game on a regular basis.) However, this isn’t a game for novices, people. You have to possess a lightning-fast reaction time. Your neurons need to be FIRING. No dilly-dallying.

Last night, I outdid myself. Look at this facial expression.

Cat Deeley, you have never looked so good. MWAHAAAAAAAAA.

……………………….

What was I saying again?

The Straw Issues

Hey, I’m guest posting over at Sweetney’s fabulous digs!

ABOUT WITO AND THE GODDAMN STRAW.

My Head. It Has Not Been Reattached.

Well, hello! Here I am. Headless.

Things haven’t really simmered down on the home front nor the Hair Thursday front. I returned Friday from Oklahoma, where Wito was cared for (read: spoiled rotten) while I was prancing around New York with TV makeup on.

I ask of you, television guest or high class hooker?

It’s a tough call, my friends. I’m sure the makeup was spot-on for the cameras, but the six business men who shared an elevator ride with me in my trench coat afterwards probably assumed the latter. You should have seen me walking into my hotel, just waiting for the manager to pull me aside, all Pretty Woman-style. (Excuse me, madam. Where do YOU think you’re going?)

Although, I’m happy to say I would have kept those false lashes on for the rest of my life if I had the chance. (Dear unbelievably awesome hair and makeup team, any chance I could get you to move to California? I make really good margaritas! Love, Whoorl.) As for the television appearance, I will let you know as soon as I get an air date so we can all laugh together at my rambling in front of a live studio audience.

Gulp.

Speaking of the television show, did I mention that the week before my trip to New York, field producers were sent to my house to film an at-home interview, as well as some additional footage of my day-to-day activities? One of those day-to-day activities was me bloggity blogging on my computer, and only in the middle of filming my hands typity-typing did I realize that my nails were possibly atrocious.

Guitar lessons + nails = Not Pretty. ZOMFG.

My living room was completely inundated with bright lights, microphones, people, cords, did I mention people? Yes, people staring at me while I talked about lord knows what. It was truly an surreal experience.

Fast forward to the present. Wito has had a fever of 102-103.5 for the past 36 hours. He’s a sick little dude, and I am taking him to the pediatrician in a couple of hours. My house is in its normal post-weekend state (DEMOLISHED) and guess who’s coming over in 5 hours?

ABC NIGHTLINE.

It’s clearly a slow news week. Let’s recap – messy house, sick baby and Oh, OH! Nothing to wear. Send help.

(At least my nails are manicured this time around. Positive thinking RULES.)

A Weekend In Boston – Observations

1. Warm, sunny weather is my life force.

2. A trench coat is not a coat.

3. People stare. At the airport, walking down Newbury Street, running errands, everywhere. (Booger? Spinach in the teeth?) While having lunch at Zaftigs, the woman seated next to us literally turned her chair towards us and stared the entire meal, completely ignoring her lunch companion. I’m going to hold a seminar on my next visit entitled, Quick Sideways Glance: learn it, live it, love it.

4. I met the lovely Miguelina for coffee. What is the DEAL with all of the East Coast soul sistahs I’ve encountered? Why aren’t these types of women living in Orange County? (Wait. Don’t answer that.)

5. I couldn’t help but pretend I was Ali McGraw while visiting my brother-in-law’s school. Of course, my superstition got the best of me and stopped thinking that, because um, she DIES in that movie.

6. The stoplights in Boston must not employ sensors, but use timers lengthy enough to allow drivers to take a quick snooze (and possibly prepare an omelet) before getting the green light.

7. Strong headwinds will make your flight home quite lengthy. As in, Very. Long. (6 1/2 hours, to be exact.)

8. While watching BBC on said flight, I encountered a show where a dietitian actually trifles through people’s poop. In tupperware. A family of four stood around while this woman dissected their poop IN FRONT OF THEM. This has crossed some sort of television-viewing boundary, and yet, I am intrigued.

9. Fresh baby head smells really good. Yet, not good enough to persuade me to have another baby right now.

10. I will enjoy the beach today with renewed fervor. Flip flops! Sand in my toes! Warm sun on my face! YES YES YES!

Boston, you and I will meet again, my bipolar friend. Preferably in the spring.

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