In the Aeroplane Over the Sea

Continuing on this alphabet challenge, I stole a page from MM's playbook and peeked into my iTunes to see what my most-played "I" song was.

Then I laughed aloud. Several years ago, I shared the song "In the Aeroplane Over the Sea" with a guy I was interested in dating. I breathlessly recapped how the entire album by Neutral Milk Hotel was based on the story of Anne Frank, and how stunning this particular song was.

He responded by sending me his favorite song, which was either a parody of Electronica, or the worst Electronica ever... and I was reminded how very little game I have when it comes to the fellas. Nothing says "Date me" quite like admitting on Day 2 that you sometimes listen to songs about mass genocide for funsies.

Not all the dudes are turned off by my flimsy flirting, though. Last year, my friend came over to eavesdrop on a conversation I was having with a guy I'd met just hours previously. From afar, I appeared to be batting the lashes, taking tequila shots, and gesturing wildly. Then she got close enough to hear me.

YES! Hillary Clinton is THE BEST Secretary of State OF ALL TIME. She is a diplomatic GENIUS...*

Zero filter as always. But this time, the reaction was different.

You're damn right she is! I can't wait to see her leverage that role in 2016!*

We've been together ever since. And he likes depressing music, too.

*Paraphrasing, because tequila.

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Zorbing

Let's celebrate Friday and the end of this challenge by listening to the first track of the Stornoway album Beachcomber's Windowsill. This song is called Zorbing and I personally enjoy trying to sing the very low backup chants, which I'm sure you'd find unbelievably attractive.

Because Joel refuses to blog despite being the funniest person I know, here are the (verbatim) musings he shared with me after watching this video for the first time:

1. Through centuries of inbreeding, British people now only have like 15 faces they could be born with.
2. List of resemblances of their faces: Simon Pegg, Jamie Oliver, Alan Cumming
3. The drummer is hot sans that douche fedora
4. The ukelele dude (simon pegg) looked like a drunk mumbling along with the song.
5. You think you have a small mouth? Did you see the lead singer?

That's a wrap. Thanks, ProntoPup and friends!

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Taylor Swift

The thing about Taylor Swift is that I unabashedly love her. I went through a phase last winter where I thought she might be obnoxious, but then spring came, and I decided I didn't care what she was like because her music makes me really happy.

My friend Emily thinks this obsession is extremely entertaining because aside from my love for T-Swizzle, I tend to be a music bitch. I know I love Taylor Swift because she is everything I am not.

Taylor is blonde, tall and extremely lean; I'm brunette, of average height, and, in the words of another blonde pop goddess, my hips don't lie.

When Taylor is wronged by a dude, she publicly vilifies them for years through her songs; I once wrote a blog post detailing how proud I was of a breakup that was full of mutual respect and admiration.

Further, Taylor is committed to the idea of living a fairytale even though her interchangeable Prince Charmings seem to not be as committed as the Disney princes of yore. On the one hand, you want to shake her and say, "Listen sweetie, if you really can't see that John Mayer is going to use and abuse, then you need some serious counseling." On the other, you want to say, "Mad props on the multiple tabloid covers that publicly dogged him, and also the hit single."

The other thing I love about Taylor Swift is that despite her lyrics being annoyingly superficial, and not even making sense, I find myself belting them out. The best example:

Today was a fairytale - I wore a dress, you wore a dark grey t-shirt.
You told me I was pretty when I looked like a mess - today was a fairytale.

Girlfriend, what kind of dress were you wearing that it paled in comparison to Prince Charming's grey t-shirt? Did you sew it from a sheet or something? Did you fall into a mud pit while you were dancing and kissing in the rain? I mean, give some context. Or don't, I'll sing it anyway.

This will not end well. (Source)

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Sing out

I've had this version of this song on repeat the entire summer. Every time I listen to it, I find a new meaning. So far, I've convinced myself that it's about a religious conversion, a recovering addict fighting to stay sober, and a parent trying to teach their child about beauty and resilience in the face of devastation and loss. So you know, it's pretty upbeat.

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Om Nashi Me

If, for some reason, I was dropped into the middle of a dense jungle with only a machete to hack my way out, and an iPod programmed with only one song to play on repeat for motivation, I would choose this song. And I would succeed with the task in record time.

It is also great for driving on highways.

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Lewis, Jenny

As a kid, it didn't get bigger than a weekly trip to The Movie Store (seriously, that was the name of the movie store. We hadn't quite hit Blockbuster status yet). Each Friday night, my older brother and I would accompany my dad to The Movie Store, which was followed by a trip to the drugstore in the same strip mall, for candy.

One of our favorite joint movies was "The Wizard," which stars Fred Savage, Luke Edwards and an utterly brilliant (depending on your definition) Jenny Lewis. The quick plot: Luke is a young boy placed in an institution after the death of his twin sister. His brother, Fred Savage, helps to break him out of said institution and they go on the run to California - "California" being the only word Luke has uttered since his sister's death. Meanwhile, their loving father (Beau Bridges!) comes looking for them, as does an evil runaway child bounty hunter.

On the road, they met up with Jenny Lewis, a badass runaway who quickly realizes that Luke is a Nintendo prodigy. In an effort to convince their parents that Luke should not be institutionalized, Luke and Fred agree to enter him in a Nintendo competition that happens to be located in California (A foolproof plan if I've ever heard one.). The trio spends the rest of the movie dodging the bounty hunter and other unsavory characters, as they hustle their way across the country to the competition. Without spoiling the ending, it's worth noting that the game being played in the final round of the competition is... the newly released (at the time) SUPER MARIO BROTHERS 3. As you can see, The Wizard is a timeless classic, provided you were born between the years 1983 and 1987.

I must have watched The Wizard fifty times in my childhood, along with Jenny Lewis' other big films, Troop Beverly Hills and Big Girls Don't Cry. Girly girl that I was, I loved that Jenny always played a hardened tomboy with negligent parents.

Imagine my surprise when I found out in 2005 that Jenny Lewis was the lead singer of one of my favorite bands, Rilo Kiley! I pretty much lost it.

Here's my favorite scene from The Wizard:

And here's my favorite Jenny Lewis song, though I'm not sure what the backstory on the video is:

I think she made the right call on joining the music scene, and on keeping her childhood bangs intact.

Jenny Lewis, thank you for 20 years of entertainment. You're a goddess.

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Day Thirteen: Guilty Pleasure

You know those pudding sundae cup commercials, where an impossibly lithe and gorgeous woman leans in conspirationally towards the camera, offering her secret to staying fit while still indulging in her favorite guilty pleasures? And then her secret is to eat a 100 calorie cup of pudding?

Yeah, those commercials suck. The problem with those ads is that they are pretending to understand the art of a guilty pleasure, but there’s nothing fun about a pudding cup. Guilty pleasures should be mortifying, or full of empty calories. There’s no need for the sexy eyebrow raise and the come hither motion when endorsing a product that is also endorsed by this guy:

So, Lent!Blog! participants, what’s your guilty pleasure? Really now, make it embarrassing. Make it count.

My guilty pleasure is that I have, for about seven years now, had a huge love for Ashlee Simpson. That’s right, I love Jessica Simpson’s relatively talent-less younger sister. In 2004, Ashlee released “Autobiography,” an album I rocked out to almost exclusively the summer before freshman year of college. My girlfriends and I met weekly to watch her MTV reality show, and insisted on scream-singing “You make me wanna LA LA!” as we cruised around the lakes with our windows down. I thought she was kind of edgy. I've never claimed to be cool.

Pre-plasticized

It’d be one thing if I had outgrown Ashlee, but I haven’t. Six songs from “Autobiography” are still on my workout loop, and sometimes out of nowhere I find myself singing “I didn’t steal your boyfriend!” when lounging around my apartment. In the battle of Ashlee Simpson vs. Lohan for Wilmer Valderamma's love, I was always firmly on Team Ashley.

One of the things I like best about A Simp's songs is that I sound almost as good singing them as she does. Let me state for the record, that I am nearly tone-deaf and have not even a full octave range to work from some days. I get sick of having to drown out my own voice when belting out Dawes or The Swell Season, and it's sometimes nice to pretend that I have a tiny pool of musical talent pumping through my veins.

When I recently heard my girl Ash is working on a forthcoming folk album, I actually got excited. It’ll probably be the first album to be ½ folk vibe, ½ heavy auto-tune. I’m probably going to buy it the day it drops.

Hate me yet? Good. That's what guilty pleasures are for.

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Day Two: Song

Welcome to Day 2 of Lent! Blog! I have to keep using the exclamation points because I just know they'll keep us pumped up once we remember that Lent is forty long days, much longer than the month-long challenges we've taken on in the past.

I think we're mostly agreeing to answer the same prompt, but feel free to go rogue at any moment. It's not fair that I'm coming up with the day's theme based on what I feel like writing about. (Isn't power fun?)

Song: What have you been jamming out to lately? Why?

One of my favorite coworkers is a music guru, and he's always giving me new CDs of bands I haven't yet discovered. The following is a song I was excited to share with him - something that never happens. If you don't think this is super cool, then let it be known that I don't think you have a soul. (And if that's the case, it's a good thing you're doing a Lenten blog challenge. Good thinking.)

Music starts at :52

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Things that are true

Hard work pays off

My team practiced for 16-20 hours a week for five months, and all their work came down to a 3 ½ minute dance at the Minnesota State Championship competition this weekend. We put in a strong performance, scoring perfect 10s in some categories, and mostly 9’s in others. In the end, we were awarded 3^rd place. Of all the things I love about my team, it might be their maturity when they don’t win outright. It was a fiercely competitive year and they were grateful to finish with a performance they were proud of, and with a medal of any color. If you think I’m lying, check out some of these pics of them celebrating. Could they be any more darling?!

City living is the best

It snowed something like 15 inches over the course of 30 hours this past weekend. While everyone took to their Facebooks to decry the injustice of being snowed in (in February, in a northern state known for its snowy winters AHEM), I pulled on a pair of boots and walked exactly 75 steps to the Thai restaurant on the corner, then 75 steps back home. While everyone tweeted photos of their barren pantries and the sad, freezer-burned porkchops they were forced to use up, I opened a steaming hot container of MeeKhaThi (sp?) noodles with tofu and wondered how my life could get any better.

Harmonicas make sexy men sexier

My life did get better when I won tickets to the Ben Kweller/Pete Yorn show last night. Em and I spent much of our time discussing: how gorgeous PY is, how we covet his hair, how all guys should rock stubble (and how unfair it is that the Air Force ruins that dream for Em), and I internally reflected on the chances of there being another man on the planet who could pull off “Sweet Mama” as a pet name. When I thought we’d run out of things to love about PY, he whipped out his harmonica and played that with one hand while still strumming his guitar with the other. And that, friends, is when I finally understood what those in the biz call a “groupie.”

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Internet Roundup

What's been entertaining me on the interwebs this week:

Birthday Card about Satan
A little girl chooses an odd time to talk about the devil - her uncle's birthday note.

Kanye West's stylist speaks
This Q and A with Kanye's 19-year-old stylist, Cassius Clay, is so beyond what I ever could have hoped it to be. Among other things, he lists his current obsessions as: "Charles Dickens, truffles, gloves from Givenchy Fall/Winter 2010, taxidermy." After reading this, I spent about an hour imagining how insufferable it would be to be in a room with these two. (Please note the disambiguation at the end of this article where they clarify that this stylist was not named after Mohammed Ali, but in fact, Mohammed Ali was named after this Cassius Clay's ancestor. I had no idea families like this still existed. I want to go to there.)

Darryl Hall's comeback

My mom once told me that she decided to marry my dad when she saw him drunkenly air guitaring to the song, "She's Gone" by Hall and Oates, so I've always had an affinity for this 80's duo. For anyone who's seen "Live from Darryl's House", or just rocked out to "Rich Girl", this is an interesting read that delves into how difficult it is for artists to evolve from one era of music to another. (Missing is a comment on how jacked up D. Hall's face is looking. Come on, man. Your forehead could outshine Nicole Kidman emerging from a Vaseline pit.)

The rise of "tween fashionistas"

The latest fashion darlings are not ingenues like Carey Mulligan or Emma Watson - they're 12. Or 10, in the case of Willow Smith. Salon peeks into the strange (and dangerous) trend of designers using pubescing girls as their muses. While we've all been hearing that the modeling industry is raising their weight standards for runway shows, is it possible that designers aren't holding up their end of the bargain? Are they simply going to bend lower in age so they don't have to use size-4 dress forms? What happens to the self-esteem of these young women when their bodies inevitably sprout hips, breasts, thighs? Shudder.

Catalog Living
It's too hard to choose a post on this amazing site that mocks pretentious catalog shots but this, this and this are my recent favorites.



What have YOU been reading?

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Song of the Day: Auld Lang Syne, Mairi Campbell

Like everyone else on the planet, I first heard this rendition in the Sex and the City movie. I went to painstaking efforts (THREE Google searches) to find a video that didn't include Carrie and Miranda holding each other due to their brief absence of manfriends, so please enjoy this delightful montage of holiday images below. Ignore where it says "Happy New Year 2010, Connie". Unless you're a time traveler named Connie, in which case - Welcome to 2010! Sell your BP stock.



Happy New Year, internet friends. I hope you have as good a feeling about 2011 as I do.

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Song of the Day: Brett Dennen, Can't Slow Down

One of the fabulous bloggers I've discovered during Reverb10 is Tami. Tami does a "Song of the Day" and as I tend to listen to the same song on repeat unti I've exhuasted myself, I'm trying to start sharing my obsessions with y'all.

If you think there's anything better than a red-headed folk singer, you're sadly mistaken. Brett Dennen is the bee's knees, or as my mom likes to say, the cat's ass. (No clue, but it's pretty fun to say.)

This song is pretty much a shoutout to the 20-somethings still figuring it out. Hey, that's me! And probably you, if you read this blog.

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11 Things (Reverb10, Day 11)

December 11 – 11 Things
What are 11 things your life doesn’t need in 2011? How will you go about eliminating them? How will getting rid of these 11 things change your life? (Author: Sam Davidson)

_______


1. Chronic guilt, as previously mentioned.

2. Obsessive celebrity gossip stalking. My fabulous ex co-worker mails me her OK! castoffs, so I’m not exactly going cold turkey. I’ve just realized that one magazine per week provides more than enough fodder on the idiocy that is the Kardashian family. Plus, the dresses look prettier on the glossy pages than they do online.

3. Using my phone while driving. I wasn’t using my phone when I got in my accident, but I do use it a lot otherwise. This is a poor choice because I'm the world's worst driver.

4. Underestimating the time it takes to get from A to B. When I judge the amount of time it takes to get somewhere, I round DOWN. Then, I’m late and crabby. So, I will round up. This is not rocket science.

5. Soda. I should probably only have one bad drinking habit (that being coffee, chill out), so I’m cutting soda. It never tastes as good as I want it to anyway.

6. Lean Cuisines and other frozen microwaved meals. Alright I’m going to be honest. I eat them almost every day for lunch. There’s no way I can cut them 100%. However, I’m not sure that they’re really food, they don’t fill me up, and I generally spend my entire six forkfuls grumbling about how disgusting they are. Here’s to me getting off my lazy bum and DOING. SOMETHING. ABOUT. IT.

7. Artificial sugar. This won't be hard - I’ve never liked it anyway and now all these studies are coming out about rats getting cancer or whatever and it seems like a lot of awfulness could be avoided if people weren’t chugging Crystal Light all the time (Joel, this is not a personal attack). Also I don’t eat enough regular sugar to be concerned about having to find a substitute.

8. Being oblivious. I spend too much thinking and not enough time paying attention to what’s actually happening. Dream state is all well and good until I realize I haven’t cleaned my apartment in three weeks.

9. Bags. Roomie and I all but have a contest to see how many bags we can carry each morning. I’ve always got my purse, bag of dance clothes, bag of dance logistical stuff, food for the fifteen hour day I’m about to embark on, etc. There has to be an easier way.

10. Trying to like rap. Kanye's newest is allegedly the greatest album in years. Every track I've heard so far, I hate. Does this make me a bad music fan? Probably. Am I okay with that? Very much so.

11. Making lists that I probably won’t stick to. Like the one above.

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Mourning Comes in Light

It’s been awhile, eh? Nothing much to report here.

Like everyone else, I'm buying too many Pumpkin Spice Lattes, looking up soup recipes, excitedly breaking out boxes containing sweaters and boots, going on long fall walks to check out the explosion of red and orange from the mature trees around Lake of the Isles. I too am bemoaning that fall will soon be cut out by blizzards and below zero temperatures and snow emergencies that will make parking a nightmare. And of course, I’m being a fair weather fan and ragefully screaming for the Twins to snag the AL pennant from the evil Yankees.

The same old October news. October is a really comforting month in this way.

One thing is new- per my Bucket List to 30, I am dipping my big toe into yoga, meaning I’ve now taken exactly 3 classes at Corepower Yoga. I like the flow, the juxtaposition of emitting strength and sweat while maintaining a sense of calm. Finding focus on breath and being. I like when the beginner classes are filled with other beginners who fall out of poses and don’t have Madonna-esque pipes. I like that my instructor last night said "Deep breath and ... CHA-TA-RAN-GA!" a hundred times in a really theatrical but hushed tone.

But mostly? I like the music. Bon Iver, Sade, Joe Purdy, Ray LaMontagne, Brett Dennen, Zero 7 and all other Garden State soundtrack staples. Have I died and gone to musical heaven? In my class on Monday they played Sufjan Steven’s ‘For the Widows in Paradise, for the Fatherless in Ypsilanti’ during the first few minutes of class. From the comfort of my extended child’s pose, I realized I was prostrate while listening to a gorgeous song with a lot of religious imagery. It felt wonderful. This is like the religion I never had, I thought.

Then I saw this article. I find something I like, and the religious right assails that exact thing the next day?

Nothing new, indeed.

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It's all funny til someone gets shot in the leg

This week has been a dead sprint to the finish line- something new for me, as my runs usually end with me muttering “DO NOT GIVE UP YOU PANSY” as I trudge limply down the path gasping for air and/or potato chips.

Where was I? Oh yeah, I’m busy. Busy to the point where last night there was a moment when I had one hand covered in shredded zucchini bits (thanks BF, for this) while the other hand transferred the music on my work computer to my personal computer via USB drive. It was 12:15 AM.

I looked up at my roommate in a moment of self-defeat and said, “What are the odds that someone else in this world is up right now doing exactly this? Could someone else be shredding zucchini, transferring music, and trash-talking people who eat Fair Food year round?”

“I sure hope so. Otherwise, what the hell are we trying to save?” she replied. She barely got through it without cracking up.

This is why I love my roommate. Can you all name the movie she was quoting? I’ll give you a hint by saying that the actor she was quoting has a hot celebrity wife and two very cute kids- one of whom Joel thinks is the "Spawn of Satan".

(Answer)

Shout out to KC and Dan who I saw at the Fair last night IN REAL LIFE. Somehow we didn't discuss if Dan had eaten his namesake food item- do you consume multiple pronto pups in order to celebrate your name?

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C'mon get happy

This is just not my week. I recognized how dire everything had become when (there's an almost good reason for this) I drove into work today wearing basketball shorts, and then, parked in a spot at the very back of my ramp, shimmied my way into my skirt while still sitting in the driver's seat. Like all ex-Catholic school girls who spent approximately 10 years of their lives demurely changing this way after gym class, I am freakishly talented at the shorts to skirt switcheroo.

As I dropped the shorts and congratulated myself on 4 consecutive days of hanging onto my sanity by a thread, an extremely depressing song played in the background. The subject matter was death. The whole album is about death. I've been listening to it on repeat because it was appropriate for our rainy, gray May.

Now it's summer. And while I don't think that listening to Taylor Swift on repeat is ever going to make the whole 'I can't dress myself' debacle seem as adorable as she is, I do think it will improve my spirits greatly. Also, it will be more fun to sing loudly in my car about Prince Charming and Romeo and Juliet instead of a Deathbed Salesman. This is not rocket science.

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Smile upon your face, welcome to the human race

Things I love today:

1. This website that tells you if it's time to drink iced coffee yet.

2. The new Jeremy Messersmith album which you can download at your own price here.

iTunes informs me that I've listened to each of the songs on this album 15-55 times in the 2 weeks since I purchased it. The obsession is in full force and I wish I had self-control because soon I'll hit the moment where I shelve it for a year because I'm so sick of it I could die.

3. Outdoor professional baseball at Target Field. The game on Friday night was EPIC. The hot dogs were, too.

4. It's finally sundress season. I feel approximately 95% cuter during sundress season.

5. In the 5 hours I hung out with my excessively demonstrative extended family today, I was told I was loved at least 15 times. Sometimes you just need to be hugged until you can barely breathe.

6. In approximately 40 hours I will be attending James Taylor and Carole King in concert with my parents. My excitement level is somewhere between Election Night '08 and the Christmas where I got the Barbie Dreamhouse with a working dumbwaiter. Prepare yourselves for the most enthusiastic post of all time on Tuesday evening.

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Doorbells and sleighbells and schnitzel with noodles

It's been an exceptionally good week. It's also been over a month since I introduced Friday Favorites, then unceremoniously dropped it from the blog. Here is its glorious return:

1. Soy Milk
When Joel pointed out to me that I was living a lie, having not followed through on my consumer cleanse without telling the blogosphere of my epic cheating, I agreed. Don't worry, six readers, it's not that I don't want you to know I'm a liar. It's just that I see the majority of you every week, so the fact that Caribou and I have become reacquainted is not exactly a secret. Anyway, I'm back on my cleanse after taking a close look at my bank statement. I've been rocking a 50/50 coffee/soy milk ratio this week in order to pretend like I'm sipping a hot latte from the hotter barista Josh at my desk. Trader Joe's Vanilla Soy Milk is my favorite so far. I'm also going to try out almond milk next week to see if that makes my morning java any more exciting.

2. Broken Bells
This is a new collaboration between Brian Burton/Danger Mouse (of The Grey Album fame, and Gnarls Barkley) and James Mercer (of the Shins). Rarely does a collab. album come along where both members can bring their best talents to the table without fighting to set their signature tone. In this case, the strongpoints of each - Mercer's evocative lyrics and crisp yet comforting vocals, and Burton's arrangements, repetition, and perfect use of synth equipment- have created an instant must-listen album. I especially love Vaporize, Sailing to Nowhere, The Higher Road and Trap Doors.

3. Volunteer opportunities
I've been contacted by two different people about volunteer opportunities this week- right as I was starting to look for better ways to give back. I'm especially excited to begin working with a group that advocates for women's advancement in the political arena. It will be a great opportunity to meet other like-minded people in the city while promoting a unique and important cause.

4. Spring in Madison!
Tal and I are headed to Madison this weekend to visit TMW. The forecast isn't exactly promising- it's been nicer the last few weeks there, but I'm sure that we'll find a way to squeeze in all our favorite things. Namely,

Sitting on the terrace and having an epic lifechat:

Consuming some beverages at our favorite old stomping ground:

and stocking up on enough of the city's walking culture to get me through my last few months in the 'burbs:

Have a fabulous weekend, all.

** Dear FTC- I was not sponsored by food companies, indie bands, or the city of Madison, WI, while writing this post. I promise.

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Raindrops on roses

Due to an urgent request by one TMB, who is bored at work (despite working 12+ hour days??), I am now posting a midday blog. I’ve been thinking of doing a Friday favorites post for awhile now, so here’s my first attempt on the fly.

1. Bon Iver, Blood Bank
Last week the blue juice in my car ran out, on one of those awful Midwestern winter days where the dirt flies onto your windshield as you sail down the freeway. In this situation, you resist using the wiper fluid as long as you can because it's probably going to freeze to your window immediately, which will require you to blast the defrost as you attempt to gauge the distance between you and the cars in front of you using a tiny opening that is either just low enough on your windshield that you have hunch or just high enough that you have to drive butt-off-the-seat for 20-30 seconds.

In this case, the blue juice death trap wasn’t even an option so I was kind of freaking out. In the end, I made it to my exit, pulled off into a nearby parking lot and (seriously) took a pile of snow and smeared it all over my windshield with my bare hands until I was satisfied with the clarity. (There wasn’t a gas station for at least another mile and I was running 25 minutes late to practice. Don't judge me or my resourcefulness.)

What does this have to do with Blood Bank? That song was playing as I was doing all this, and when I got to work the next morning I saw that the cover art for the EP is this:

Justin Vernon has a talent for writing songs that sound like winter even if they don’t explicitly mention it in the lyrics. His songs are so pretty that I am actually able to like appreciate the beauty and mystery of the cold when I listen. It’s a nice break from cursing the patches of ice and piles of snow.

2. Peppermint Patty Pieces
My boss came back from Phoenix with a bunch of candy that I’d never seen before. Pepperment Patty pieces are like mint M&M’s and they're an amazing winter snack. Mint is the only addition to chocolate that lessens my gluttony, so it's a big win-win.

3. Friends with benefits
Heads outta the gutter people. Since my budget cleanse began, I’ve seen a show at the Guthrie for $13, gotten 4 free lattes (!), and stayed at a free hotel suite downtown due to my fabulously hooked up and generous friends. This weekend I’ll get free food and hotel courtesy of the dance team. It’s easy to stay on task with saving money when you don’t have to cut out all the fun.

4. Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip
Last week I was craving Josh Lyman. When I tried to watch my Season 3 West Wing DVDs, I kept falling asleep. Too much thinking, my brain said to me. Must have more 30 Rock. Unfortunately Tina’s not working on my schedule so I had to branch out. I ended up settling on this truly awful show on Hulu because it was written and created by Aaron Sorkin, but isn’t nearly as well-developed or nuanced (am I selling it yet?). I just wanted the walk and talk, people!

4 episodes later, I found myself hysterically laughing as the characters (supposedly writers and cast of an SNL-type show) attempted to counter a kidnapping plot of 3 American soldiers in Afghanistan. Excuse me? Shouldn’t you be busy writing “I’m On a Boat”? It was bad by anyone’s standards- and exactly what I needed. My bizarre attraction to Bradley Whitford, receding hairline and all, continues...

5. My team

We're off to Sections this weekend- what could be the end of our season, or a stepping stone to the State Tournament if we place in the top 3. Needless to say, I've neither eaten nor slept all week. Yesterday I developed a pretty cute eye tic that has mercifully faded.

Throughout the season, we've been telling them that they can't worry about the other teams, that we just have to do our own personal best rather than focusing on winning. I do believe that, but I can't help hoping that our personal best is better than that of all the other teams. In other words, please dance gods, let us WIN.

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Ain't this just like the present (to be showing up like this)

December 8: Moment of peace

An hour or a day or a week of solitude. What was the quality of your breath? The state of your mind? How did you get there?

I wrote pretty extensively about the retreat weekend I went on in late September. I felt most relaxed during the afternoon I spent reading on top of the rocky embankment overlooking the lake. The book I was reading at that time was Population 485, which I wrote about in my last "Best of '09" post.

December 9: Challenge

Something that really made you grow this year. That made you go to your edge and then some. What made it the best challenge of the year for you?

I was pretty worried that I wasn't going to be a good coach. I didn't worry that the girls wouldn't like me- I didn't really care if they didn't like me, so long as they thought I was knowledgeable and giving beneficial input. I remember that when I was a dancer, the fun coaches were sometimes worthless because they were too worried about not stepping on girls' (pointed and turned out) toes. I came in with a little bit of trepidation, but eventually found my stride. I've also realized that I know how to critique the execution of moves that I was never able to do well myself. I read in an article this year that the best coaches aren't necessarily the best former players. They are just the ones with a critical eye, lots of enthusiasm, and an effective strategy for the problems that arise in that sport. I've been reminding myself this a lot as girls come to me for advice on turning, which was never my strong suit.

December 10: Album of the year

What's rocking your world?

I'm terrible at listening to new music. Bon Iver's For Emma, Forever Ago was definitely my most-listened to album of the year even though it came out in 2008. A close second was Phoenix's Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix- I give full credit to Joel for the introduction. Like the rest of the planet, I also spent the entire summer rocking out to T. Swift's Fearless. Props to Gret on that one- we had only Taylor with us for a trip to Madison and back, guaranteeing four full-fledged fans upon our arrival back in Minneapolis.

December 11: The best place

A coffee shop? A pub? A retreat center? A cubicle? A nook?

I've been missing the comfort of a small cozy coffeeshop ever since I moved home from Madison. Even when I would head all the way down to Uptown to meet Joel last year, I felt even their cafes were too crowded and missing the comfort of Upper Espresso. I recently went to a Dunn Brothers in Eden Prairie- it's located in a historic mansion. There are several rooms, both tables and oversized chairs, and it was quiet except for the buzz of a few couples chatting. My friend and I settled in for a 2 hour chat in some loungers in an empty room. I definitely want to make it my new go-to place when I have time to sit for a quiet afternoon.

December 12: New food

You're now in love with Lebanese food and you didn't even know what it was in January of this year.

I'm really into cottage cheese right now. It's the only food that my family won't snipe out of the fridge when I buy my own groceries. My obsession is strong, but I think it will die down once I am living on my own and am guaranteed the rights to whatever I purchase. In other food news, I had to cut myself off from bacon a few weeks back. It wasn't pretty.

December 14: Rush

When did you get your best rush of the year?

I ran outside for all of November, eagerly heading out whenever I had the chance. It seemed silly to not take advantage of my favorite season, which was this year extended well beyond the usual MN standard. On Thanksgiving after I had recuperated from our early afternoon meal I headed out down my block, not expecting to get far. Instead I found myself sailing down my usual route, my legs propelling me faster and swifter than ever before. When I hit my final hill I had a startling realization: I don't want to stop. This has never happened to me, so I simply ran past my block, too distracted and in the zone to even think about where I was heading. U2's "Beautiful Day" came on just then and I was overcome with a feeling of warmth and gratitude during my first ever runner's high. By the time I got home an hour after I'd left, my parents were near frantic. I'm usually gone for 35 minutes like clockwork. I have yet to repeat the experience, but think I should probably just start eating more stuffing everyday. That must have been the catalyst.

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