Let Jesus Take the Wheel

If all goes according to plan, I will be starting a new job in the near future. The process of getting said new job has been painfully protracted and the consequence of the delay has been the incessant asking of EVERYONE I KNOW if "the new gig has started yet" and "any word on the start date" to my personal favorite "you're still here?". I have to muster all my charm and goodwill not to respond "I am sitting at my computer right? I would take that as a pretty sure sign that I am still here". But instead, I smile and say "Ha. yep. still here. keeping busy, though".

Last night I was skyping with my father who, despite his strong efforts, can not resist asking me about the new job. I tried to allay his fears last night by saying that he could rest assured knowing that I would not forget to mention to him that my months-long wait had come to an end and I had started my new job.

By way of quasi-apology he said that he just had so little to worry about that he couldn't help but worry about me. I pointed out to him several things in his life that I thought were worth worrying about to which he quickly responded "nah, that's all in god's hands". I agreed with the approach and said "yeah, god is my co-pilot". And then, without hesitation, my dear dad informed me that: "Nope, god's riding with me. He say's you're fucked".

Guess I'll have to switch my bumper sticker, then. Rafa would never let me down.

Dreamweaver

About once a week I have some variation of the same dream. I dream that I am driving a car but can not hit the brakes. Sometimes I can't reach the breaks even though I am stretching my leg out as far as it will go. Sometimes it's because I am in the back seat and can't figure out how to get to the front. I also have the opposite of this dream, where I am trying to run but can. not. get. my. legs. to. move. These dreams are right up there with the "holy shit, it's final exam day and I didn't study...I am not going to graduate" dreams...which I still have and wake up feeling oddly uneasy. Not nightmares, per se, but still unpleasant and not nearly as fun as the time that I dreamt that Justin Timberlake and I were dating and on vacation in Sun Valley, ID. I woke from that dream feeling awesome.

My friends at the New York Times are telling me now that I can have all Justin dreams and no more car dreams and definitely no dreams where I have a baby and can't remember where I set it down only to realize that one of the cats at my aunt and uncle's house has eaten it! Oh no, no more of those dreams. From now on, what you see below will be what I see between the hours of 9:00pm and 7:00am:

AC

I feel like lately my second job (albeit a super fun one) is celebrating 30th birthdays. I celebrated my own with a blow-out pool party that was filled with family, friends, dogs, and a parrot pinata. We had Brie's (friend not sister) in Nashville at a great restaurant where several bottles of wine were ordered and Real Housewives of New Jersey meets jet-lagged-Japanese wedding-guest impersonations were performed. And the evening ended magically with a killer round of charades out on the patio of the Hampton Inn with Brie exposing her stomach to get the group to "Team Jacob" (sidenote: I am now a staunch member of said team but we shall save that story for another time).

And this past weekend we had Jordan's birthday. Jordan flew to Philadelphia on Friday for night in the city before her brother joined us and we headed to Atlantic City. Wanting all of my friends, former boyfriends, and childhood playmates to know about the spectacular weekend I had on tap, I updated my status on facebook to let all who were interested (and all who weren't) know that I was about to have a weekend of "ACs". The first AC was Audrey Claire where Jordan and I dined on Friday night, followed by AC (Atlantic City of course) all of which I hoped had AC (air conditioning), don't worry I complimented myself on the cleverness of that wordsmithing.

Atlantic City managed to exceed my rather high expectations in multiple categories. Accommodations: we stayed at the Water Club where our room was really nice and the complimentary toiletries were top-notch. Dining: Great seafood dinner at the Borgata. Sadly, our performance at the blackjack table did not permit us the $395/oz caviar on the menu. People watching: It was in this last category that A.C. honestly nailed it. I mean, they hit this one OUT OF THE PARK. If Jersey Shore ever needs to host an open casting call, they need to look no further than the pool at the Water Club, it is gold! I can now spot fake boobs from 100 yards out and realize that it makes NO sense to have 1 tattoo when you can have 17. But wait, the people watching gets even better. In addition to the wanna-be Snookis at the pool, I got to add another A.C. to my list: A.C. SLATER!!!!! Unbelievable. I peeped him coming out of mur.mur and stood on my chair and screamed "holy crap, is that Slater???". The blackjack dealer quickly and firmly told me to sit down. I did one better, grabbed my chips from the table and Jordan's iPhone to get a couple of candids!!

All the News That's Fit to Print

I read the New York Times everyday. I look forward to the Science Times on Tuesdays, Dining&Wine on Wednesdays, Thursday Styles, and the Sunday Magazine is one of life's true pleasures (even if the articles are a little long and it sometimes takes me a week to finish them). I have favorite writers and contributors, David Pogue (the technology writer...a testament to his writing really that I read his columns at all given that I don't have TV and my cell phone is 5 years old) Mark Bittman, David Brooks (recently names the Liberals' favorite conservative). And I have least favorites: I am looking at you nose-in-the-air film critics A.O. Scott and Manhola Dargis.

Well, I have a new favorite to add to this: The Crib Sheet: The 10 Things to Talk About This Weekend. I am not sure how long this column has been around but I am just now catching on and this shit is FUNNY. Here is # 7 from the week's list:

Bedbugs infest Abercrombie & Fitch and Hollister stores in New York. God sends insects to those who flaunt their abs in the workplace.

Rafa Nadal 5, Rafa Bolger 0

This weekend marked my Rafa's (the boy not the dog) return to his rightful place at the top of the ATP rankings. He fought his way back to number 1 after a year of injuries. On Sunday he found himself across the court from that Swedish weasel who knocked him out last year. Only this time my Rafa was on fire (el fuego). Fist pumps abounded and he marched all over that weasel in a straight sets victory to claim the Coupe des Mousequetaires for the fifth time. In a related story, in the women's final on Saturday Francesca Schiavone grabbed the women's title...just a few weeks shy of her 30th birthday. Watch out Paris, I am looking to get me a title in 2011!!!

In between watching tennis matches, I managed to fit in some quality country time and took my other Rafa for a nice run through the woods. Although Rafa doesn't "run away" per se, he is very much a trail blazer. He far prefers bounding like a bunny rabbit through the woods than trotting beside me on the trail. Usually this works out ok and after his speedy pursuit of a deer or other Rodents of Unusual Size that are lurking in the forrest - he returns to my side and we wrap up the run. This time though the trail got the best of him and at the end of our run he had two divots missing from his rear paw pads and by the next morning a pretty gruesome hot spot on his tail. We went to the vet the next day and emerged with antibiotics, steroids, a cone, and booties for the little guy. I am not sure if it's the shame of walking through the neighborhood dressed like a freak show or mood swings brought on from the juice, but our daily walks are NO fun right now!

Be sure to check back for updates on the Rafas. Vamos!

The Real World: The Country

It appears as though this summer could well entail a temporary (though extended) stay at my country house. In previous seasons of "Real World: The Country" cast members included a former nanny, said nanny's work-at-home fiance, their albino cat who was confined to the basement, and an incredibly loquacious friend of lynnie's who slept on the couch and whom we avoided as much as possible. This season's cast will see the addition of Aunt Nancy and the Ronster Monster (the RM) and of course Woody and Splash. So all told, the housemates will include: 2 aunts, 2 uncles, 2 cousins, 4 dogs, 4 cats and ME!!! Oh boy, what a way to say hello to 30!!

Unsurprisingly, the planning of summer activities has begun in earnest. Nancy and I are set to have a summer book club where we will read and discuss the building and defense of our great democracy. First selection: The Federalist Papers. The dog agility course is on order and ready to be assembled in the back yard (I think Rafa is going to really excel at this). Standing appointments have been set up for 6am workout's with Nancy's trainer. So, last night as we were rattling off these plans , Nancy took a slight detour to talk about my cousin Hannah's recent dance recital (a 3 day event that I was informed I should put on my calendar now) where she performed routines in jazz, ballet, hip-hop and tap. Nancy expressed genuine enthusiasm for all the performances but told me that tap was now on her "bucket list"...the list of things of things she would like to do before she kicks the bucket. I said "you want to learn to tap?" to which she humbly responded "Carly, I don't know how I CAN'T learn". She has already consulted with the RM about the construction of a ply-wood dance floor in the basement.

This is going to be awesome.

Happy Camper

I have often commented that my weekends in the country are like summer camp for grown-ups. Activities abound: trail run in the morning, tennis after lunch, bike ride before dinner and then dinner which is definitely better than standard camp fare if only because the canteens are filled with wine and cheetah-ritas! Well, this past weekend was my first real country visit in quite some time. The weather was perfect and we spent nearly the entire weekend outside. There was much anticipation for the first bike ride of the season. Lynnie got a bike last summer (a Specialized designed for a racer but remarkably well-suited for a .... Lynnie. See the Blue Bullet in action above).

The family pelaton assembled for the inaugural ride, banding together as Team Pathetic for summer 2010 racing. The belly-aching began before the first foot hit the pedal, excuses were laid out before the helmets were buckled, and the slow-pedaling commenced as soon as the downward coast out of the driveway ended. In case you are wondering, the answer is "yes" I do sometimes feel like Michael Jordan playing a pick-up game during these rides, what with my lightning speed and all. See Nancy looking victorious after launching the speed assault on wheels that is Team Pathetic.



The ride was great and was followed by a delicious dinner. Given the persistence of my quasi-vegetarianism, Rafa got to eat my helping of lamb. And it wouldn't have been a holiday without a Wong. This time Cousin Amanda was the lucky recipient, so glad she doesn't have one arm.

PS I hope you all enjoy the freshened up layout... I would have liked something a little snazzier but it turns out blogger really doesn't give you much to choose from!