But he's 35.

As she was cutting my hair, she was leaning towards the girl in the chair next to me, explaining, "He was 35. I mean, c'mon, I'm 23. And he was 35." I know she didn't mean it that way. But I took it that way. I just keep telling myself the longer she cuts my hair, the older she'll get. And stop saying things like, "No, you're not old." But I'll always be 30 and sitting on the couch in my sweatpants at 7:45 on Saturday night. And she'll always be jetting off to Mexico to meet guys in the hot tub.

No, I'm not bitter.

I heard L&O: SVU

I've read This Fish for a long time, but I've never felt closer to her than now. And in competition with her for the title Mrs. Detective Elliot Stabler. I'm right there with you.

It's about to storm

The lightning is lighting up my windows right now. It's about to storm. My dog is slightly flipping out.

Anti-guilty pleasures

I'm loving this article on music Entertainment Weekly editors hate even though everybody else loves it. I'm feeling so bonded with these people right now.

On my list: Kanye West, Nickelback and the Rolling Stones. Sorry!

Stephen Hawking is making me upset

My husband is watching some special he Tivoed on Stephen Hawking. All talking about the big bang and black holes. The end of the universe. Time stopping. Millions of miles of space or time (or something) being sucked into an infinitely small particle. Does this make anyone else feel like barfing?

Why doesn't this upset my husband? He just keeps telling me that we won't be around for it to happen, why should we worry? The sun shouldn't explode for 5 billion years. But won't people be on earth. How horrifying would that be? What a horrible death. I don't even want to think about it. I had to put my iPod on, it's bothers me so much. And it's not helping my Nanowrimo story.

It's dark out already

OK, maybe not yet. It's only 9:45am. But by 5pm, I'll be walking around in the dark. I hate the end of daylight savings time.
And why am I blogging at 9:45am? Because, of course, I forgot to change my clock last night. So I'm up, worrying about Nanowrimo. Each year that I've written, I've gotten antsy like this right about now. Who are my characters? What are they doing? I have no idea. This year, all I have is a setting. Great.
Speaking of, one of my friends keeps pronouncing it Na-NOW-ree-MOW. She makes it sound like a Hawaiian island. It's hilarious.
Things I'm thinking about right now:

- I'm going to the Nanowrimo kickoff party this afternoon. I hope the weirdos stay away.

- I'm traveling to Europe in January. What's that flight going to be like? I've never been overseas before. And when I say that to people, it's like I'm telling them that I have a third eye. Never been to Europe. I'm not the last one.

- Halloween. We have to win this year's contest with this idea. Corpse bride and the corpse bridal party. We're having a mini wedding reception at work. Nothing will get done all day. Sweet. Here's a photo of my practice run with the makeup.

- I'm not a shopper, but lately I've been having serious shopping pangs. So does pre-Halloween Christmas advertising have an effect? Yes, I believe so.

- Shopping pangs lead to my obvious weakness for bags. Purses, totes, anything. Is there a 12-step group for this problem? Damn you, Vera Bradley! Maybe I'm thinking that if I buy an overnight duffle I'll become the kind of person that takes weekend trips to B&Bs in rustic New England. Or not.

Great Typos

It's an oxymoron, I know. I'm not perfect, but these have gone out, either to PR lists or whatever. Hire a proofreader! I’ve actually seen these in the last few months:

In a headline: The Roomers Are True…

In an online signup form: Please separate e-mail addresses with a coma.

In an internal e-mail: We apologize for any incontinence this may cause.

Honestly. It's like these people are trying to give me a heart attack.

Careening

Do you ever feel like your life is careening out of control?

Testosterone Kills Brain Cells

Aaah, it all makes sense now. Testosterone kills brain cells.

This blog needs a love triangle.

I was just over at the Grey's Anatomy's Writer's Blog, and in just the latest post there were more than 500 comments. Everybody's arguing about Mer and Der and hitting the pause button.

Unfortunately (actually, not unfortunately at all) I'm happily married, so none of that. Well, I am having a thing right now with my macaroni and cheese. McCheesy. Does that do anything for you?

So in the mean time, here's a photo from my last trip to entertain you.

Taking Annapolis by storm...and free food

I'm in Annapolis, Maryland, for work. Is it wrong that I'm so looking forward to this free steak dinner? That's what thousands of dollars of waterproofing will do to you.

Did you know that fall is the best time to plant, especially in the northern United States? With fall rains and cooler temps, plants have a chance to establish better than in the scorching heat of summer. FYI. I'll post some of the (what I'm sure will be) great images from my trip later this week.

News brief -- Nicole Kidman is nice!

You know it's a sad state of affairs for Hollywood when a celebrity being nice becomes a headline. Nicole Kidman isn't a diva. Who knew?

And maybe more importantly, why does this fall under the news category at all? I love movies, but I'm not sure I care if Jane Fonda thinks Lindsay Lohan is a spoiled brat. Because isn't that for each of us to decide on our own? *eyerolls*

Remembering

Nanowrimo....to write or not to write?

So I've done Nanowrimo for the last three years. It's fantastic. I don't think there's another place where you can get feedback and support from so many writers. Sallyacious is doing it.

My problem is I'm feeling burned out from work. Write all day and then come home and write some more. I think I'll feel better once next week is over, but until then, Nanowrimo sounds like agony. I'm sure around October 29 I'll be foaming at the mouth, ready for the challenge, but not so much today. And the worst part is I've been pushing all my colleagues to join me in writing.

Plus, I had a plot, but it's feeling shaky right about now. Who else out there is doing Nanowrimo? Do you have any plot/outlining pulled together yet?

Katie Couric's not all that interesting

Yeah, I watched the CBS Nightly News tonight, but I didn't think Katie Couric was the one to see. I really liked hearing Morgan (Super Size Me) Spurlock talking about the opposite of red states and blue states: purple America.

Truth is, most of us don't live on the extreme ends they like to portray, the majority of us are camped out here in the middle. But nobody wants to hear what we have to say because we don’t foam at the mouth, call your mama names or say anything that’s gonna juice the ratings.

To read his whole essay, click here. Don't lie. You agree.

Emmy recap

Even though I wouldn’t really call myself a fan of Dick Clark, it was nice to see him and a rundown of all that he’s accomplished. And I even enjoyed hearing Barry Manilow (I’ve NEVER said that) play the “American Bandstand” theme.

Geez, Jaclyn Smith is still gorgeous. Even more gorgeous than when she was on Charlie’s Angels.

And TONY SHALOUB??? C’mon people. Even the audience at the Emmys gasped when that happened. Steve Carrell should file a police report, because he was robbed.

And I love Blythe Danner, but again, c’mon. Have these people watched even a minute of Jean Smart’s performance on “24?” It’s a crime that she didn’t win. At least they got the Best Comedy and Best Drama right.

Holy frick

Who let this guy anywhere near a computer? I'd hate to be his inbox, with all the hate mail he's gonna get. And this is a rehashing of his "marry a pretty girl" column. Forbes let this guy into his magazine twice.

I may do a little research on this. Stay tuned.

A bigger jerk?

Is there a bigger jerk in the world than Ray Nagin? My God, we're just getting over his chocolate comments and then he says this?

Selecting the blog title

I also have a blog on my magazine's Web site. The problem is I'm getting my own, individual blog (it used to be a group one) and I need to come up with a title for it. My mind is completely blank.

Well, actually the fine nuggets of brilliance I've come up with so far are "Crap From My Brain" and "General Musings." What, and I haven't won a Pulitzer yet with that kind of inspired writing, you say?

This blog is just a mishmash of whatever I'm thinking about, so there isn't really a subject it focuses on. Well, I mean other than my magazine's subject, which is gardening. Any ideas from my vast network of readers?

Water – I hate it

So about three months ago, my husband noticed some water dripping down a wall in our basement. I figured it was nothing, didn’t think twice about it, but he said he’d have a guy he knows take a look. Whatever.

The guy comes over and says this isn’t just a leaky pipe. It’s digging time – one wall of our house needed to be waterproofed. Sweet. $6,000 I’ll never see again. Does the fun end there? No.

These guys have dug half way to China and once they hit bottom, they noticed that all the pipes from anywhere near our house to the storm sewer are completely jammed up with tree roots and dirt. How much is that going to cost? More than our whole wedding. More than the value of my car, almost by two. About half what my aunt and uncle paid for their house back in the early eighties.

Anybody need some freelance editing work done?

Might as well have been a cliff he'd jumped off

I'm glad that Paramount Pictures cut ties with Tom Cruise. I've had enough of that lunatic. It's about time that people's actions have consequences.

Puppy -- did that get your attention?

She's officially ours. A beagle mix, 6.8 pounds at her first vet visit.

She's only this sweet and good about 10 percent of the time we're home and with her. The rest of the time it's all biting, peeing, pooping and trying to get out of whatever crate/pen we have her in.

She's a lot better now than she was the first week we had her, though. Now she only cries for a couple of minutes when it's time to go to bed at night. The first couple of nights, she was up and howling for an hour.

Set the puppies free!

You know, this is very simple. All we want is a dog. A puppy. We're looking for a puggle. Yes, it is a popular dog right now. No, they haven't been hard to find. What's been hard to find is a reputable breeder that will call us back. Are you people allergic to making money? Here we are, waving around a wad of hundred dollars bills, ready to hand it over to the first person that will hand us a dog, and we can't get one taker. What is the deal?

Several breeders won't return our calls. We're trying to eliminate those that look sketchy, but they're all starting to look sketchy. One has reviews on its Web site that are clearly fake. Most are sending us these weird emails that read like ransom notes. The puppies are being held hostage!

Puggles, are you out there? Any of you want to live with us?

Looks like we'll have a new family member

I've been resisting for a long time, but it looks like we're on our way -- to getting a puppy. My last adventure with a pet was interesting. Our dog had diabetes, with all the fun of insulin shots, doctor's appointments, late-night walks and finally having to put her down. That was all over more than two years ago.

My husband has wanted a dog for as long as we've been married and I just realized this week how much it was bumming him out not to have one. So I've given in. I'm a fantastic wife. I'm understanding and aware of his feelings.

So our swingin' bachelor lifestyle is over. Somebody's got to be home. One of his major arguments is that it will be good for us to gain this responsibility. I guess that's true.

We're looking at puggles. Apparently they have short hair, are good with kids and about medium size. Any thoughts?

Ready To Jump

Tell me if it's just me. At your job, do you have that one guy that can't do anything right? That just fucks up everything he touches? And he comes in two hours late too many days, putzes around on the Internet half the day and then tries to set forth actual reasons why he can't get his work done ("I'm really getting slammed today. Bad day. I guess I'll have to work late tonight.") And somehow he keeps his job. Do you work with that guy? Are you that guy?

Because if that guy is at every company, I'm not even going to bother looking for another (good) job. I'm just going to look for more music on iTunes to block him out and a good anger-management therapist. There has got to be one company, somewhere in this country, where that guy doesn't work. That guy didn't work at my company until 10 months ago. I was safe. Now that's all crashed down around me. Anybody?

Where do people go?

I think my grandmother’s had a near-death experience.

She’s been sick on and off for more than a year. She had lung surgery to remove some cancer and has been in and out of the hospital since then. This time last week, a doctor was telling us to make sure her affairs were in order and she was laying in intensive care, tubes coming in and out of too many places to count.

And all of the sudden, she was fine. Yesterday, she talked to me (at me is more accurate) for an hour. But what she said was incredible.

First of all, she didn’t have that sick person, hollow look in her eyes. She was in there again, in her own head. And she told me that she talked to God a lot that week, to her dead brothers and mother. And then she told me everything that she owned that she wanted me to have when she does die. Where her will and last testament are. And that in general that she wants just a little more time with all of us. Even my brother, who she admitted she never got along with as well as the rest of us. But she loves us all, she said between huge, streaky tears.

It was seriously the longest talk I’ve had with her since I got married three years ago. Where do people go sometimes, and how do they come back at the snap of their fingers like that?

Aw, c'mon

John Krasinski. He's just hot.

Good news day

This is my most favorite news story of all time.

I was once at a trade show talking to a client and had to scream to be heard over the screeching cheerleaders in the next booth. Pom-poms and everything. Get a life and a real job.

Performance Appraisal

So you’ve had a performance appraisal at work, right? Where you talk about your job, your boss tells you what your goals should be for the next year. Sometimes you get a raise or promotion. Pretty painless, right?

Did your boss ever break down in tears during yours?

Oh, I’m so lucky. She burst into tears because she's stressed out, I’m mean, I tell the truth and I expect more from my co-workers than they’re giving. It brought out the cold in me. I just sat there until she pulled herself together. I can have no compassion. I’m tired of having to see things from her point of view when she could care less about what’s going on in my head.

Babies are everywhere

My manager is having a baby this weekend. My other co-worker is thinking about it. On the Internet, Sarcastic Journalist (www.shenuts.com) popped this week. What's in the water? Maybe I should switch to Pepsi.

How are you supposed to raise a baby these days? My manager has six weeks of maternity leave and then will be returning to work part time. That's barely enough time to introduce yourself and, of course, she'll be losing her seniority at the company by going part time. Her husband doesn't get any time off work. He'll be using his vacation days. Are companies trying to discourage people from having kids?

The creepiest part of this whole thing is that I get a promotion because she's leaving. Could I have any more mixed feelings? I've been studying and shadowing her for about a month now so that I'd be ready when her time came. Her last day was Thursday. When I started taking over stuff on Friday, I was getting a lot of, "Geez, her body's not even cold yet!" Yeah, I couldn't see that coming.

The main question here is why do I have to give up everything that I've worked so hard for if I get pregnant? Or why do I have to become a stranger to my kid if I want to keep my job? Let's just hope I'm totally sick of my job when I get pregnant.

Twenty years and Tommy Tutone

I'm 27 years old. According to my television, I'm about ready to keel over and roll into the grave. TV is full of "life is too short. Turn around and life has passed you by."

One commercial has a young couple filling their wallet with credit cards, one for each major event in their life. They age something like 40 years in the span of 30 seconds. Give me a break. It's bad enough that my 10 year high school reunion is this weekend.

Another credit card commercial shows a father at his daughter's wedding, seeing her in his mind's eye as a little girl, remembering like it was just yesterday. I didn't feel old on my wedding day, but now I'm feeling it.

And by the way, is there a pattern here? Is the message that you need credit in order to age? That actually makes me want to never get a credit card. Or that when you have a wallet full of credit cards, you've finally hit the plateau of being old?

I think it's because of the baby boom generation.

Old And Proud Of It
There's only one thing on TV that makes me old that I also like. Hit Me Baby One More Time. Poor Howard Jones. It was a shock to see him, battered face, short hair, old. All John Lithgow looking. But c'mon, who doesn't want to hear all that great music? Back when artists actually wrote the songs that came out of their mouths.

Who cares is some of them didn't make sense (everybody Wang Chung tonight. Remind me again--which one is Wang and which one is Chung?) If you're sitting out there thinking, "I never wondered what Tiffany is up to these days," you're just lying to yourself. And it's good to see that Sophie B. Hawkins is just as weird as ever. Of course, singing "100 Years" almost gave me a panic attack, making me think of my little sister, the day she was born and the day last week that she graduated from college.

Tommy Tutone is now is now a software programmer. Oh, what time does to us.

How about The Wedding Singer on Fox tonight? How sad am I that I'm ready to buy this soundtrack? I'm dancing "All Night Long" with Lionel Richie.

Drop the debt....and the act

I'm coming to a crossroads in my life. College is behind me and I'm making money. And trying to figure out what to do with it. Who I want to give it to and who I want to make sure never gets any of it. And the lines are so blurred.

The tsunami happened and I made my donation. It was unbelievable to me how people from around the world came together and got things done. Money was liberated from pockets, people got on airplanes, food was delivered, and people were saved. Within days, even hours. We can get things done, when we take action that gets things done.

I love Bono. I love U2. I think that he means well, but what is the deal with this "hold a rally" method of political persuasion? Bono and his Hollywood friends have launched a new website, www.one.org, to fight global AIDS and poverty. And who's not for that? Everybody wants that. My question is, what is this One organization about? What do they do? Because if all they're about is holding protests outside the G8 summit, maybe I'll start my own charity.

Let's face it, Generation X, the generation that is swayed by people like Bono and Brad Pitt, are in office cubicles during the G8 summit. So if you can't get what you want from the American government, if a bunch of teenagers and what Senators think of as jobless radicals isn't working, isn't it time to appeal to me and my yuppie food stamps?

I'm looking for a charity. I'm looking for someone to give my money to--someone that will take action. That will feed hungry people. I know that there is no more important cause out there than world hunger? Will someone organize an actual fight?

How to be a good neighbor

I know that title might lead you to believe that this article is about a responsible foreign policy, but it is actually about being neighborly in the most basic way possible--to the people that have homes on either side of yours.

Unfortunately, I have plenty of experience being host to bad neighbors. It seems that people see me in a housing market and direct me towards the crazy people neighborhoods.

Is it really that difficult to be a good neighbor? All you have to do is mind your own business, mind your yard, and leave me alone. Is it really that difficult? Apparently.

So just in case you're not sure how you rate as a neighbor, here are a few thoughts.

How is it that some people are able to convert sweet little (or big) pups into weapons of torture? Dogs. I'm learning to hate dogs, even though the dogs themselves aren't guilty of anything but having stupid owners. Do not leave your dog chained to a stake in your backyard. Do not let your dogs bark all night. Doing either will get your pet dognapped or worse. You know that it happens. You've seen the news stories. Don't pretend that you haven't. And don't blame me when I snap, whip out my blowtorch, unchain your dog from its hell pit, and take it to the Animal Protective League.

I guess I really shouldn't complain about that when the opposite of a chained dog, a free one, is actually worse. If your dog is laying on my lawn when I'm cutting my grass, don't come crying to me if it comes home with a reverse mowhawk.

Do not defile my lawn, in any way. In fact, do not enter my property without an invitation. Do not weed whack my grass and leave it to scorch in the summer sun. Yeah, that really happened. To me. For no reason. I came home one night to find a patch of grass, well over my property line, whacked down shorter than Sinead O'Connor. And our best guess on the culprit has an '85 Mustang rusting away on blocks in his driveway. Stay off my lawn!

And if I can hear your music, it's too loud. If I can hear you, you're too loud. If I can see you, you're too close. OK, maybe that just applies to my current neighbors.

Name's not quite the same

It’s a miracle that children get named at all these days. A co-worker recently revealed that her birth name was Baby, only because her parents couldn’t decide on a name before they left the hospital. The first name on her birth certificate is indeed Baby.

So many names get eliminated right off the bat. Close relatives should be the first to be eliminated, to avoid offending anyone or a lifetime of confusion at family reunions.

Next, immediate co-workers. We all love our co-workers, but you can’t have any of these people thinking that you’ve named your child after them. Depending on the size of the company you work for, this can be the biggest challenge of all.

Maybe most importantly, all significant others’ names must be excluded. Just the sound of those names can conjure up rage in even the most forgiving. You really should try to spare your children the sight of you foaming at the mouth and snarling at them as you call them down for Sunday morning breakfast.

Of course, you must also eliminate the names of your grade-school nemesis, your high school principal, your freaky freshman year college roommate, and the guy that sold you your car. No wonder there are kids (or at least one kid) out there named Apple.

A name, after all, isn’t just a name. There is an aura around a name and no matter what anyone tells you or what you try to make yourself believe, there is something sacred about a name. There is karma involved. You are what people call you. And whether you’re an Emma or Eleanor, Ryan or Walter, just think about what your parents went through to give you your title in life.

Where's your box checked?

So now the FDA is going to impose rules that recommend that any man that has engaged in homosexual sex in the previous five years be barred from serving as an anonymous sperm donor.

How do doctors and sperm bank workers plan to enforce this rule? Will there be an application box somewhere that says "gay sex"? And do they expect that anyone will check it, now that it will make him a pariah?

It makes me think of those race boxes on college and job applications. White check here. Hispanic check here. If you want to make them suspicious, check Other. I always feel like I'm making a morality call. I vote for white. White is right. It doesn't feel right. Why does the world constantly have to be broken down into checkboxes?

And what does the FDA have to do with any of this gay sperm stuff? Sperm is neither a food (don't even say it) nor a drug (that's not any better either). Shouldn't this be CDC territory? And if it was, I'd hope their scientists would find a better way to keep patients safe than using some irrelevant determination of who is "healthy."