Lord, Beer Me Strength

Esther has a flat tire.

She was waiting for me outside of my apartment -- completely dejected and flat. Kinda like Katie Holmes' post-nuptial personality. Damn her (Esther, not Katie Holmes).

Josephine never would have pulled this crap.



For the uninitiated, Josephine was my old car and the love of my life. She was a 1998 Mitsubishi Mirage two-door coupe and I loved her. I knew all of her quirks and noises, she was amazing when it came to gas (180 miles on a quarter tank - highway) and she loved driving with the windows down and the music loud.

I named her after Ride On Josephine, a rollicking George Thorogood number and then realized that there were a litany of great songs that were applicable to her (Josephine by The Wallflowers, Oh Josephine by The Black Crowes).

When I drove up to PA, Paps sold her (to a horrible woman who put WalMart rims on her!!!) and I inherited his car -- a 2004 Honda Accord also known as Esther.

I named her Esther because she's the same color as a varicose vein and because she handles and feels like a little old lady/Madonna's most annoying incarnation.

I don't think I have a donut. I know I don't have a jack.

That girl's been nothing but trouble. I want my baby back.

Lord, Beer Me Strength.

I will never be the woman with the perfect hair, who can wear white and not spill on it.

New hair. It's pretty sweet.

Also, I could totally devour some huevos rancheros and a tall frosty mojito right about now. Anyone wanna hit up Honey's with me?

It's Friday afternoon and I'm stuck at work for the next hour-and-a-half, so I'm doing what any girl would do -- stealing from the fabulous Miss Drea.

Maybe I should actually start writing that novel I've been putting off for the past six years. Start planning my wedding. Note to self -- buy a wedding planning book and call the Hard Rock Hotel ASAP.

I love the smell of Boss by Hugo Boss even though it reminds me of my dickbag ex. I also love the smell inside Barnes and Noble and am currently trying to figure out a way to replicate it in my home. So far, I have a zero percent success rate.

People would say that I’m incredibly perky. Imagine Cass Van Rye toned down like, 80%. That's me.

I don’t understand why Ann Coulter, Rush Limbaugh and Michael Savage aren't held to the same standards as Don Imus. I mean, they're all hate-mongers.

When I wake up in the morning I know Ron Livingston won't be waiting for me with a grande decaf, skinny vanilla latte...but that doesn't mean that I stop hoping for it.

I lost the guitar pick Art Alexakis gave me when I moved from Florida to PA. I'm still kinda bummed about that.

Life is full of great music, movies, food, drink, places and people. And I want to experience as much of it as I possibly can.

My past has been both incredibly sheltered and a wonderful learning experience.

I get annoyed when I'm suckered into arguing about politics or religion.

Parties need at least one Justin Timberlake track, one Earth, Wind and Fire Track and one classic rock anthem like Don't Stop Believin' by Journey to make a memorable night.

I wish to find a sweet bargain at the mall tonight. Hopefully in the shape of a cute new summer dress.

Dogs are ridiculously cute. Especially if they happen to be Boston Terriers like Smashy or Jack Russell mixes like Phoebe.

Cats need to be more like Binx with big personalities and a penchant for playing in the sink.

Tomorrow is Avery's first birthday. I can't believe she's one already.

I have low tolerance for needles. Seriously. I immediately revert into weepy, terrified toddler when confronted with the prospect of an innoculation.

I’m totally terrified of never owning my own home one day. I know, I know. Totally stupid fear, but I really want my own house someday.

I wonder why studios keep paying those two buttholes to keep churning out crap like Disaster Movie and Meet The Spartans.

Never in my life have I gone streaking in the quad.

High school was nothing like the picture John Hughes painted.

When I’m nervous, I jabber like a complete idiot.

One time at a family gathering my sister and I passed a laptop back and forth to convey snarky messages without getting in trouble.

Take my advice and learn to accept what you have. Then learn to love it. If you hate everything, you're only hurting yourself (I'm keeping Drea's answer here because it's awesome and great advice)

Making my bed is a rarity but I'll probably make more of an effort when I get a matching comforter cover.

I'm almost always singing something in my head. Right now, it's Danny Elfman's Batman score.

I’m addicted to Lost, my Google Reader, Coke Zero/Diet Coke and Wawa.

I want a decent job and a cute little house in Los Angeles. Oh and the Lucky Medium Hobo bag in brown...or at least, a pretty good knock-off.

It's Friday. It's hot. I'm tired. Give this girl a cocktail ASAP.

At least my knockoff says 'Pradi.' Yours says 'Prado!'

So yesterday, I fell in love with this bag.

The Lucky Medium Slouchy Hobo Bag.

It's gorgeous and my homegirl Nancy Botwin sports one just like it.

Best of all, it's big enough to fit my keys, phone, wallet, lip balm (I'm in love with this product and highly recommend you pick some up. Your chapped lips will thank you), a copy of whatever I'm currently reading, my notebook, my keycard and work badge, sunglasses, eyeglasses, pens, gum and digital camera.

Unfortunately, that $158 price tag? Yeah -- not gonna happen. There's this thing I like to do that just won't allow for a $158 purse expenditure. It's called eating.

So, here's my plea -- help me find a very similar knock off that won't break the bank.

I've looked around and can't find anything close. I mean, you'd think Forever 21 -- fine purveyor of knock-offs -- would have an acceptable substitute, but no dice.

Thanks for your help, guys!

Ramble on. Now's the time. The time is now...

+ I've had Sabra Price Is Right stuck in my head all day. Does anyone remember this SNL sketch? It was from the 1991 season and featured Tom Hanks as a Middle-Eastern Bob Barker. Hilarious. If you don't believe me, check it out for yourself:



+ The last time I ate Indian food in PA was a miserable experience. I mean, I may as well have ordered a bowl of failure topped with defeat sprinkles. Almost a year later, I decided to give it another shot and lucked out. I hit up India Garden in West Chester and ordered a classic -- mutter paneer. It was perfect -- not too spicy, they didn't cheap out on the paneer and even the rice was good (as a general rule, I hate rice. It's bland and boring. I realize as an Asian this is akin to treason, but dude seriously? Rice = lame). India Garden -- Generic name, far from generic food. If you're ever in Dub C, check it out.

+ I saw the coolest graffiti I saw on the way back from the mall -- "Harvey Dent, Take Back Gotham!" Unfortunately, I didn't get a chance to take a picture of it (handling a digital camera while driving = inevitable death), but I'll try to next time.

+ My new earrings rock. A lot.

+ You know what else rocks? My new hair. I have bangs for the first time ever. They are super cute.

+ Want. Want. Want. Nancy Botwin has one and she's my homegirl. Well, at least she was when she was rockin' the suburbs. Now...well, we'll have to see where she goes.

+ Pauline's Tumblr is pretty awesome. You should check it out.

The world won't wait, so I better shake

To celebrate our anniversary, Dan and I are planning on spending the weekend in New York City.

Having never been to NYC, I'm ridiculously excited and can't wait. Only, I've got no idea what to do when we get there.

I'd like to have one of those great Nora Ephron-y nights where Dan and I just wander around the city until sunrise.


(Photo courtesy of Urban75.com)

But I get the feeling that:

A) Knowing my brilliant sense of direction, I'd probably end up in some shady neighborhood being chased by the C.H.U.D.s.
B) This idea would work until about 4:00 a.m. when I would get incredibly sleepy and end up passing out in the street and being hauled off by one of New York's finest.

So, this is where you come in. I need suggestions -- places to eat and places to see.

I hear The Met's pretty cool, I definitely want to check out 55 Central Park West (we're nerds. Do I really need to keep reiterating this?) and I'm a big advocate of eating really well (Ray's Pizza -- delicious or overrated? Oh and if anyone could recommend good Indian, Middle Eastern and Tapas places, that would be awesome!

So -- suggestions, recommendations?

Thanks guys!

Technology bests me again...

Dan's been on an X-Files kick lately. He's watching all the episodes in the 'mytharc' (the story arc of the show's mythology. Yes, I am currently researching how much it costs to get 'Nerd' tattooed on my forehead) so we can watch the first movie so we can see the second movie. Movies are serious business at Casa Walsh (Casa Walsh is just a placeholder until I actually come up with a name for our place).

[SIDEBAR: Name my apartment! I used to live in Lush Manor -- a glorious HUD-approved apartment complete with black mold and two of the best damn roommates a girl could ever ask for. Now, I live in a pretty sweet apartment with a huge TV, a Wii and the cutest roommate/fiance a girl could ask for. So, any suggestions?]

I've been watching too in a half-assed sort of way, but it's this half-assery that gets me in trouble. Well, that coupled with my on-going battle with technology and complete inability to separate real life from fiction.

Case in point: Last Night.

I woke up at around 2:00 a.m. because I noticed there were flashes of light emanating from the living room. In a sleep-addled state, I stumbled to the living room to investigate.

The Wii's disc drive was glowing bright blue 'causing the light show.

So, what's the first thing I think of? No, it's not to unplug the Wii or check the power button. The first thing I think of is:

"Aliens are using our Wii to communicate! What if this is like Poltergeist? What if I get sucked into some otherworldly alien vortex dimension?"

This is my first response, ladies and gentlemen. Completely devoid of logic. I skip right over sane rationality and crash land at ludicrous.

This morning, I woke up and noticed the Wii's disc drive was still bright blue.

Jaime: Honey! There's something wrong with the Wii.
Dan: What is it?
Jaime: The disc drive is glowing blue.
Dan: Take the disc out.

The glowing stops.

Right.

So, to recap:

Technology: 46764318976436516413545677

Jaime: 0

Looting and polluting is not the way!

I came into the office today to find a 5" thick pile of paper waiting to be copied at my desk. Do you know how much five inches of paper is? It's a lot. I took 5" and turned it into 10" (that's what she said). So, between the small chunk of the Amazon I killed today and all the Hair Insurance I use, I'm pretty sure I'm on Al Gore's hit list.

Speaking of the environment, you know what needs to make a resurgence? Captain Planet. That show was awesome and with everyone being so much more environmentally friendly nowadays, he could easily make a triumphant return.



McGillis and I had a pretty interesting conversation about the show once. Everyone had a cool power except Ma-Ti. Wheeler could shoot fireballs, Kwame could create earthquakes, Linka could summon tornadoes (Oh, Linka. The Cold War thawed everywhere except in your icy heart), Gi could control entire bodies of water and Ma-Ti got the short end of the stick. He was saddled with the power of 'heart' which allowed him to feel and convey emotions. So, basically his power was being emo. Nice. Oh and he gets a monkey too. Great. As McGillis so succinctly put it, "I would have kicked Gaia in the box for giving me a power like that!"

Anyway, Captain Planet? Totally awesome and needs to make a comeback....providing they Rastafy him by 10% (+10 and a cookie to whoever gets that).

Google Reader and Google Docs just became my new BFFE. Not only can I blog from the office but I can also catch up on other people's blogs! It's amazing! Oh and if you haven't already, check out Starting Over @ 24. He's been keeping me entertained all day while I've been copying, stapling and restapling. SO@24 reminds me of Mikey from Swingers...but cooler and more video-game savvy (I'm sure he gets that comparison all the time) and that rocks because when I think about Mikey, I start thinking about Rob (played by the charming Ron Livingston) and from there, my productivity takes a nose-dive and my imagination goes into overdrive.



Oh, Mr. Livingston. I'd double-down on you any day. Too far? Too far.

And lastly, here's some stuff I've been digging lately:

• The new release by Augustana - Can't Love, Can't Hurt. Check out I Still Ain't Over You and Sweet and Low.
• Aussie's Hair Insurance. It works really well.
• Taco Bell's Fruitista Freeze. Strawberries, mangoes and a name that sounds like a fabulous South American dictator. What's not to like?
• Wawa. Made-to-order sandwiches and yummy iced tea? What's not to like?
  
  

Dirty South comes to Philthadelphia

Man, I miss these guys.

It's a warm, sunny day and I'm stuck at my desk until 5:00. So, I'm emptying out my brain like it was my purse:

+ I went 'down da shore' for the first time in my life. Apparently, this is somewhat of a summer tradition if you live in the mid-Atlantic states. Thankfully, it was less like MTV's True Life: I'm a Jersey Shore Girl and more like a pretty chill Memorial Day Weekend. I learned that a good 90% of food at the shore is fried within an inch of its life and if you eat it, your stomach will stage a violent coup. I also learned that pretty much every shop on the boardwalk sells exactly the same merchandise and that the sun harbors a serious grudge against me. I have a forehead the size of a movie screen (regular, not IMAX) and UV rays gun for it after it like Dina Lohan scrambling for her fifteen minutes.

+ Why is Lisa in the final four in Top Chef? She's a mediocre cook and I'm so over her defensive attitude and paranoia. Homegirl messed up rice twice so I'm thinking she needs to pack her knives and GTFO.

+ Speaking of things that need to GTFO, someone needs to forward that memo to the cold I have. I feel like I've been kicked in the head by a menopausal rhino. On the plus side, though? I can totally relate to Denis Leary's love of NyQuil (Google it, kids).

+ I have the same vision as Pam Beesley (20/400) and the same bra size as Rachel Green (you can figure that one out for yourself). I know this because Wikipedia and I are BFFE.

+ I saw the Sex and the City movie opening night and it was an experience unlike any other.

The audience was 90% women. The other 10%? The world's most disconsolate men, men who were way better groomed than I ever will be and one very confused child who was obviously just there for the popcorn (sidebar: $17 for popcorn and two Diet Cokes?! If you're going to rob me blind, at least have the decency to wear a ski mask and corner me in a dark alley). Of this 90%, a good 30% of these women actually dressed up for the screening. Now, being incomparably dorky, I've attended numerous screenings where people dress up like their favorite characters. I've encountered Jedis, Indys and more than a few superheroes but never have I ever witnessed a gaggle of women in cocktail dresses, heels and full make-up at the movies. I have to admit though, it was pretty fabulous. Cocktail dresses should be acceptable attire everywhere. Ditto flip flops (any movement on that yet?).

Speaking of the audience, in addition to unsolicited advice and "sassy" affirmations, I was also subject to raucous whooping whenever all four ladies met on screen, when Carrie wore her famous opening credits tutu dress and when the audience caught a glimpse of her sizable shoe collections (although, I have to admit that I felt a hard jolt of envy when I saw her Louboutins. What? They're delicious).I'm all for interaction to a certain degree (laughter, a gasp during a shocking moment, a sniffle during a particularly tender and touching scene), but come on! This isn't Rocky Horror.

As for the movie itself -- If you're a die-hard fan, you'll probably love it.

If you're a dude who's never seen the show and couldn't tell a Manolo from a pashmina, you'll hate it.

If you're someone who kinda dug the show, appreciated the clothes and watched to catch a glimpse of Ron Livingston (i.e.: me), you'll find it a little long and the kind of movie that requires some serious suspension of disbelief (There's no way Carrie could ever afford her swanky NYC digs or designer labels on a columnist's salary and in all honesty, the characters have become self-parodying charactures of who they were on the show).

But, if you take it for what it is (cinematic cotton candy clothed in coutour), it's a pretty sweet way to spend an evening.

The buttons and the pins and the loud fanfares

Jordan Knight's a total sleaze and Danny Wood still resembles The Missing Link, but damn it -- New Kids On The Block still rock my world.



Reason #14484653131364874631797913213 The Best Friend is my best friend -- In the same three minute span, he downloaded and emailed Tonight by New Kids On The Block for me and managed to call me, 'such an asshole' for a completely unrelated matter. Man, I miss my broseph.

I'm going where the summer never ends

Tim Whitaker of the Philadelphia Weekly wrote this great piece on Summer in Philly and it got me thinking. When you live in a place where you it isn't perennially summer, you appreciate it more. You make more excuses to stay and play outside longer.

Summertime is tall glasses of sweet tea, beaded with condensation and clinking with ice.
Chirping birds, baking asphalt and Latin-tinged hip-hop blaring from car speakers.
Smoke, fireflies and fans all floating to Dave Matthews.
Soft mango flesh, sweet juice dribbling down your chin.
The smell of barbecue, freshly-cut grass, gardenias and coconut sunscreen.
Cold Coronas with lime, lemon drops and laughing out loud alfresco.
Brown sugar skin, pink toenails and well-worn flip flops

What defines summer for you?

Heliophilia: A sun-splashed mix for summer.

1. Daydreamin' -- Lupe Fiasco feat. Jill Scott
2. Amber -- 311
3. American Baby -- Dave Matthews Band
4. Summer Love -- Justin Timberlake
5. For Me, This Is Heaven -- Jimmy Eat World
6. Brasil Brasileiro - Caetano Veloso feat. Joao Gilberto
7. Lucky Star -- Madonna
8. Paper Planes -- M.I.A.
9. I Get A Kick Out Of You -- Frank Sinatra
10. Island In The Sun -- Weezer
    
11. Cruel Spell -- Big Bad Voodoo Daddy
12. Summer Jam -- Craig David feat. The Artful Dodger
    
13. Summertime -- Will Smith
14. Summertime -- New Kids On The Block
    

I learned today why Olympic athletes make endorsement deals with Nike, Reebok and Adidas as opposed to Manolo Blahnik and Jimmy Choo.

By sheer coincidence, Dan and I work in the same corporate center so we carpool to work four days out of the week (we take a break one day a week so he can come in later and I can listen to music at ear-shattering levels and delude myself into believing I have Mariah Carey's vocal range).

Today, like a complete yutz, I forgot my lunch in his car. I remembered this fact after I got to my desk and spent the next fifteen minutes of my life sprinting up and down several flights of stairs and hurtling to the opposite end of the corporate center where Dan works. Now this usually wouldn't be a big deal, but the fact that I managed to do this while wearing three inch heels is a pretty impressive feat.

Corporate America really needs to institute an across-the-board flip-flop policy.

Mortal Nemesii Part 2

The copier/fax machine at work. We are no longer on speaking terms. As much as I would like to live in the world of Office Space, recreating the PC Load Letter scene at 8:30 in the morning? Seriously not cute. On a more positive note though? I'd watch Kung Fu with Peter Gibbons any day.



Let's focus less on the fact that I look like an ass and more on how ridiculously good-looking Ron Livingston is, shall we?

Voice activated customer service helplines. Was Terminator 2 a teeny little indie flick that only I saw? Does nobody else live in fear of the day computers become sentient and collectively band together to eff us in the a? After talking to a robotically perky operator for a good five minutes, I heard it say, “Thank you! I now have all your information in front of me!” First off – you’re not a me! You’re an it! A thing! Not a being! And secondly, the fact that you have all my information makes me feel nuts in that tin-foil hat kinda way.

The VCR. It fell on my foot and if I ever get a hold of Dan’s baseball bat, I’m gonna recreate the following scene:

Awesome Vs. Ehhh, Not So Much

Now usually, I blantantly rip off borrow from Sports Guy's format of Thumbs Up/Thumbs Down, but today, we're switching it up a little.

Awesome: Iron Man.



I didn't think I was going to like it, but you know what? It was bad-ass. It's was funny, action-packed, made an interesting statement about war (despite what the neo-cons tell you, it is possible to be pro-troops, anti blundering, bumbling cluster-fuck) and was a great way to kick off Summer Movies Season 2008. Favreau's direction was fantastic and glimpses of him on-screen playing Tony Stark's driver were a treat. He's lost a lot of weight since The Break Up and I've gotta tell you, he looks great. Homeboy behind me made the most succinct and salient comment regarding Jeff Bridges' character, Obediah Stane -- "Dude is seriously sinister." And you know what? Dude is.
Another thing I loved? Tom Morello's cameo. The Rage Against The Machine/Audioslave guitarist pops up on-screen for a brief, blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment playing a terrorist who gets obliterated. If there's one thing I've learned, at heart -- the coolest kids are all comic book nerds. Oh and speaking of, the trailers for The Dark Knight and Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull preceded the feature. One gave me goosebumps and one made me wanna fling my boy shorts at the screen. I'll let you figure out which one's which.
Ehhh, Not So Much: Harold and Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay.



I wanted to like this movie because I love its predecessor and can quote pretty much every single line, but I really wasn't that impressed. The thing I loved about Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle was its simplicity -- stoners get munchies, head to burger joint and get into adventures along the way. This was a little too big, too epic for our THC-loving twosome. Funny but compared to the first one? Ehhh, not so much.

Awesome: A sassy skirt from Forever 21 and two pairs of Old Navy flip-flops. Hello Summer. I've missed you!
Ehhh, Not So Much: Not being able to rock aforementioned flip flops at work. Heartbreaking.

Awesome: Betsey Johnson perfume. It smells delicious!
Ehhh, Not So Much: Speaking of delicious, I ate a cheeseburger and onion rings for dinner last night (Yeah, healthy eating ranks right up there for me) and then, an hour later, thanks to Iron Man, I got the munchies for an another cheeseburger and NYC style pizza. Dude, what am I? A 14-year-old boy? Comic book movies and junk food. I think a pretty good argument can be made.

My mortal nemesises (nemesii?): An Abbreviated List

Kristen Bell – Nothing personal. I love Veronica Mars and think Ms. Bell is all sorts of cute, sassy and fabulous. But I have to dislike her on principle. If she ran me over with her car, Dan would be taking off his pants while dialing 911 (of course, I would do the exact same thing if confronted with Ron Livingston, so it all evens out).



Converse Sneakers – I want to love them, rock them and look undeniably cool as legions of others do, but I can’t. Why? Because on my feet – they look like clown shoes.

Ganondorf – Link is my homeboy and I am a nerd. What’s up? This is also applicable to any other boss or miniboss I may be locked in battle with at any given time.

The Firewall at Work – My lack of blogging lately has been due to the fact that I can’t access blogger.com at work. I also can’t access the ‘Book, Livejournal or a litany of other sites that keep me entertained and informed. I can, however, access my email, ESPN.com (Even though Sports Guy is a rabid Boston fan, he’s still my favorite columnist) and The Huffington Post, so that keeps me going and brings me to my next point:

Reading about politics makes me angry. Knowing I can’t vote makes me angry. Knowing that the people who can vote do so for stupid reasons makes me angry. Actually, that last one also makes me want to paste huge billboards all over the country that read: “Hey numbnuts! You will never have a beer with the president!! Vote for economic self-interest instead!”

The mainstream media makes me really angry as well. I mean, there’s a war still going on, the economy is spiraling further and further out of control, people can’t afford to put gas in their cars, corporate avarice is consuming the country and what are the major news networks flogging to death? The bare back of a 15-year old (Sidebar: Ms. Cyrus, you can’t have it both ways. You can’t be Role Model Sweetheart and Lolita. Did you learn nothing from Britney Spears?), lapel pins and Reverend Wright – a man who made claims remarkably similar to the claims made by John Hagee, Pat Robertson and a slew of “agents of intolerance” (John McCain’s words, not mine) known as televangelists.

Does anyone really care about this stuff? Does it even matter? What is more important to you?

Miley Cyrus – an actress (and I use that term in the loosest sense) who most of us have never even seen perform or the fact that you can’t afford to fill up your car and yet, Exxon-Mobil are reporting the highest profits in history?

The fact that 4000+ of your fellow Americans have died or the fact that Senator Barack Obama (like millions of other Americans, including his opponents, Senator Hillary Clinton and Senator John McCain as well as critics like Rush Limbaugh and Bill O’Reilly) doesn’t have an American flag permanently stapled to his lapel?

Read for yourself. Think for yourself. Don’t believe the hype. You’re smarter than they give you credit for. Prove it.

Congratulations Jake and Steph!!

Jake and Steph
April 19th, 2008

May you be poor in misfortune, rich in blessings, slow to make enemies and quick to make friends. And may you know nothing but happiness from this day forward.

I can't think of two people more made for one another. Love you both. Congratulations!

The only proof she needed of the existence of God was music

And in that moment, we felt infinite....

OK, so I know you can't really feel 'infinite' and that Chobosky was merely grasping for a way to express the unabashed optimism and pure, unadulterated hope that suddenly ignites within you, but I get it. I've felt that way too. And every time I have, music was involved.

One of the things I remember most about West Palm is driving northbound on Jog late one night. Stars sprinkled like salt against a sapphire sky and Jimmy Eat World on the stereo. A Praise Chorus to be exact. Crimson and clover over and over and over and over. I don't know where I was going (based on geography, it must have been either downtown or to The Best Friend's place) and I have vague, hazy memories of my late teenage years in El Dub, but that one night is crystalline.

Flash forward a couple of years. I'm walking to my car after class. Past the fountain and past the construction trucks (We call it Under Construction Forever for a reason) when out of nowhere, the strains of My Girl by The Temptations fill the air. Clear and loud. Even though my love life at that time was lackluster to say the very least, I felt like I'd stumbled into some romantic comedy.

Cut to earlier this week. I'm driving to work, falling in love with blushing cherry blossoms and shocks of bright yellow and red tulips working their way out of the ground. Instead of listening to the inane morning DJ chatter, I pop in a CD I made for Dan (The Admiral Moneybags Mix -- a reference to Logan Echolls on Veronica Mars). A little Foo Fighters, a little Silverchair, a little Dashboard and then, this amazing twinkling piano punctuated by an urgent and persistent drone. The winding, one-lane backroads of suburban Philadelphia, Teenage Wristband by The Twilight Singers and the feeling that in that moment, I was infinite...

The Hills: Back To LA

You know, having a job really puts a serious dent in a girl's Hills blogging. I'm like, three weeks behind and have had to resort to watching the episodes online instead of on our seriously amazing television.



Yeah. It's pretty sweet.

However, this works out well for Milla Jovavich because now, I want to spend all my hard-earned ducats on her super-cute Target line.

A breakdown of the episode: Pratt-Daddy moved out of Casa Speidi and into Gatlin She-Pratt's digs, Whitney quit her job at Teen Vogue and got a job as a stylist with People's Revolution, Brody and Lauren get into a tiff because of he said/she said nonsense regarding significant others and Heidi's increasingly plastic facade continued to irritate me even further.

Let's talk about Miss Port's decision to leave Teen Vogue, shall we? Cherry position that hundreds would maim for, frequent trips to Paris, company perks like brushing shoulders with celebrities, the possibility of free couture and a paycheck?! I would do some incredibly shameful things to obtain a position like this and she's just letting it go to become a stylist at People's Revolution.

Speaking of clothing, Miss Montag debuted Heidiwood for clothing retailer, Anchor Blue. Like its namesake, the line is thoroughly mediocre, wildly unremarkable and slightly skanky.

And that brings us to this week's edition of You Look Like A Pratt! Usually, this section is dedicated to the overgrown Gerber Baby that is Spencer Pratt, but every now and then, Heidi steals the spotlight from him.



I would compare her to Barbie, but I think Barbie had slightly less plastic injected into her body. Miss Montag's sadness is about as genuine as that trout pout she's rocking.

If I awarded accolades for Most Annoying Moment, it would have been Heidi's half-wit story telling She-Pratt about the last time Speidi dined at Prana:

"When we were here, Spencer said he was going to get the Muscle Breakfast and I said, 'Why? Because you have no muscles?' and he said, 'Shut up.'

was the most stupid thing I have ever heard. If I had been in the vicinity and had overheard that crap, I would have grabbed the closest pot of hot coffee and flung it in her face. Oh and in case you're wondering, a Muscle Breakfast consists of egg whites, grilled chicken, fresh veggies, fruit and seven-grain toast.

How does She-Pratt have such a sweet apartment?!



When I was 22, I lived in a HUD housing development. That's a pretty way of saying I lived in the projects. I had a meth lab shut down three buildings away from me...and you know what? It was the best time of my life. God, I miss Lush Manor.
Quote of the Week: The honors go to Kelly Cutrone of People's Revolution. During their interview, she actually told Whitney, "You're basically making a deal with the devil." Is Whitney becoming a stylist or a drug mule?

However, Heidi comes in at a close second with, "It's not like we're broken up." Actually, Blondie -- you kind of are. I mean, I realize that when it comes to Pratt-Daddy, being a heinous bitch is de riguere, but when he moves out, takes all his shit with him and expresses a notion to date other women (who these women are, I have no idea. I mean, I'd rather shave my legs with a cheese grater than be in the same zip code as Admiral Asshole).

And to end on a good note:



Lo's back! She's the best friend any girl could ask for -- she's funny, she gives great advice and she's got great taste in clothes (and I'm sure she wouldn't mind sharing). How she doesn't have her own show on MTV is completely beyond me.

The Hills: Paris Changes Everything (Season 3 Premiere)

If you missed the show (like me), you can check it out at MTV.com.

The Hills is back and I've been suckered into it again. To make things even better, the premiere was an hour long, as opposed to the usual half-hour format. Awesome for me, seemingly endless torturous agony for Dan who was in the room while I was watching.

The episode rundown: Lauren and Whitney traipsed around Paris, played Teen Vogue go-fers, attended a debutante ball and hung out with dirty French rockstars, the brilliantly named Rock and Roll. Don't step in the irony. It's dripping all over the place.

Meanwhile stateside, Heidi spent some quality time at her parents' place in Colorado where Pratt-Daddy paid her 'surprise' visit and surprisingly, Heidi was remarkably catty to him the whole time. Good for Heidi...but she's still a complete idiot (more on that later). As for the final member of our fierce foursome, Audrina was nowhere to be seen.

Now, onto the show!

Usually I love Whitney's sartorial choices and think she's all sorts of sassy and fabulous, but that striped sock and shoe combo she was rocking? A little too Wicked Witch of the East for me. I spent the first five minutes of the episode worried that a house would come crashing down on her.

I really liked the 'You're Hearing' feature during the episode. Although, MTV lost serious points for the lack of consistency. I heard a clip of some Kanye track during the episode and it went unattributed. Come on, MTV. Step up your game a little.

Like a bad rash, She-Pratt returns! Stephanie is back and this time, she's armed. Unfortunately, the only weapons in her arsenal are bad eye-makeup, a thoroughly ridiculous facial expression and words of wisdom sheer incoherent idiocy for her brother.



One such example of She-Pratt's pithy philsophy? "You could think of everything you've done and do the opposite." With pearls like that, I'm surprised the Ivy League isn't on their hands and knees begging her to enroll in one of their institutions.

I would like to know what kind of moisturizer Whitney uses and sink my life-savings into this product. This is what Ms. Port looks like upon awakening:



It's not the best picture, but you get the point.

This leads me to two conclusions:
A) Our God is a vengeful and merciless God.
B) Whitney probably spent 45 minutes with a make-up artist and stylist before this scene was shot.

Stepping aside from The Hills for a second, can we please take a moment and talk about that God-awful Alicia Keys mini-soap that aired during the commercial break? What the hell was that?! Were the producers of that crap trying to out-insipid The Hills because if so, they succeeded in a huge way.

As ridiculous as She-Pratt's quote was, the Quote of the Week award goes to Whitney for sheer inanity. No, not the brilliant, "You love feathers....", but rather her keen observation -- "I'm sure Paris is full of guys cooler than Brody."

Yeah. And so is Three Mile Island. And the Arctic Circle. Ditto Chernobyl, Russia. It's not hard to be cooler than a man whose only claim to fame is nailing other pseudo-celebs, living off a trust fund and playing dress-up with your BFFE, Frankie.

And since we're kicking it old-school, it's time once again for You Look Like A Pratt! This week's epic aesthetic failure had nothing to do with the episode but was so God-awful that I just had to use it:



The 'I Am Not A Tool; I Am Not A Toolbox Or Even A Tool Shed. I Am The Entire Tool Section Of Every Sears Department Store In The Continental U.S.'

Now, usually I'm not an advocate of hunting for sport, but in this case? I think an exception can be made.

Speaking of scummy guys, let's meet Rock and Roll. They're unwashed, they're French and they're (hopefully) totally irrelevant.

Strike One: Paul the drummer's Flock of Seagulls hairdo. I realize he's a drummer and that everything everything old is new again, but not this. Never this. Ever. Homeboy needs to ditch the Aquanet post-haste.

Strike Two: Mattias. He looks like one of those creepy 42-year-olds that hang out in bars and scam on college girls, despite having every last one of their advances shot down.



Saving grace: The band has a designated tambourine player!

Lauren Pretty-In-Pinking her ball gown seemed like a disastrous idea from the get-go and then, when she burned it with her iron, my only thoughts were, "Cinderella, you're screwed."



But, this is not reality (despite what Whitney said during the episode). This is an amazing fantasy land where you can wreck a couture dress and then, poof! A new, even cuter one miraculously appears! The Hills are more magical than Hogwarts!



Despite my sniping, this season looks great -- Audrina and Heidi hanging out! She-Pratt realizing that hanging out with Lauren will increase her celebrity status way more than hanging out with her industrial-sized feminine hygiene product of a brother who stages photoshoots with his talentless girlfriend! A new puppy! Lo!

The Hills is back and that makes me feel how Lauren looks (damn it, she is adorable):