A TALE OF URBAN SUBURBAN SURVIVAL

Friday, February 17, 2012

-confession time-

CONFESSION TIME.

I am officially obsessed with Gossip Girl.

Now, I know what you're thinking---

Seriously?! You're practically 30. What a trashy show. I thought you'd be watching Top Chef. Wait, when did you get cable?

All valid questions, people.

But hear me out: I have literally gotten NOTHING done in life since I discovered this series.

Ok, so that didn't help my case.

To clarify, I've been so enthralled by this sexy, sleek, complicated, delightful series that I've practically cruised through three seasons in two weeks.

Ok, ok. In layman's terms? I can't seem to shake this series. Or stop watching.

I know there was a lot of hub-bub about this. But let me say, I would never let my child watch this show. But as a full-grown adult? This is totally indulgent!

Here's what I've learned:

*Blair + Chuck 4-Eva!!!! (no really, WHY does this series toy with my emotions?? They're perfect together. I'm obsessed.)

*I've learned that "I'm sorry" can heal all wounds...if only for an episode or two.

*Ladies, you're either a Blair, a Serena, or a Vanessa. Choose wisely.
 Gentlemen, you're either a Chuck, a Nate or a Dan. Ditto.

*I know nothing about fashion.

*Even if I win the lottery, I will never age like Lily.

*I need to go back to Paris ASAP.

And finally?
     Xoxo, Gossip Girl

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

-a love letter to my body-

Dear Body, or Corpus Awesomeness,

Wow, we just had a great birthday, didn't we? Vegas was kick-ass!

But there's nothing like a sleepless cross country flight with a touch of food poisoning to get me reflecting on the state of our union.

According to your biggest fan and know-it-all husband, although we just turned 29, we are technically already beginning our 30th year on this planet.

(Evidently men don't realize every imaginary year counts, thanks sweetie.)

That's kind of a big deal---if things go to plan, we've used up about a third of our time together. That's also a little scary, especially since the formidable baby-making years haven't even started *shudder*

So first, some praise:
We've been all over the place---strong, flabby, blonde, red-headed, flat, curvy---and I have to admit, I've been proud every step of the way. Not many people get to say that they love their more corporal half at any stage. And since today is Valentine's Day, I'm yelling it from the tops of social media structures!

Now, the apology:
You've been sleep-deprived, over indulged, seen with questionable company, sunburnt, under-exercised, put into knots, intoxicated---I have used and abused you time and time again and for the most part you've bounced back. And except for some old chicken pox scars and that appendectomy in college, Body, you have been good to me, and I'm sorry I haven't returned the favor. (I think we can both agree that right now 29 feels dehydrated, tired and bloated. Or maybe that's from Vegas.)

Finally, the promise:
Body, I dedicate this next third of our lives to you. You've taken the brunt of our early time together and I pledge to return the favor. I promise to be a better listener. You've always told the truth, but I haven't always been willing to hear it. I know now we're not the young buck we used to be, and I'm ok with that.

Cause let's be honest, hangovers seriously hurt this past year. Indigestion and heartburn are not just something old people get in commercials. Cheap ballet flats are the fastest way to get plantar fasciitis. Exercise is not an option, it's a necessity if we want to have something remotely resembling a waist at 40.

It's time for some clean livin'. Reasonable adult life starts now.

(Okay, how about tomorrow? I had a burger for lunch.)

We've got our first round of having a dependent in a couple of weeks and we'll have to make some big-life adjustments whether we're ready or not. But here's the thing---I am so ready.

Xoxo,
Me