Answered Prayers

I'm happy to announce that Southwest airlines has brought back honey-roasted peanuts.

List Me This - Pop Culture Edition

American Idol Lookalikes
1. Blake Lewis = Nick Carter
2. Sanjaya Crappy = Halle Berry
3. Gwen Stefani = Heidi from the Hills

Shows I care nothing about
1. The Sopranos
2. King of Queens
3. Desperate Housewives
4. The Simple Life

Turning into heads on toothpicks
1. Angelina Jolie - 109 pounds. REally?! Come on.
2. Carrie Underwood

I’ve had it up to HERE with
1. Lindsay Lohan – has the girl even done anything besides rehab in the last two years?
2. John Mayer/J. Simp - blagh, cough, throw-up. Too gummy + too lurpy = death by skeev
3. Skinny jeans – maybe only for said toothpicks on sticks. And then only if it were the last pair of bottoms on earth. And the earth hadn't returned to its Garden of Eden, clothing-optional state. If and only then.

Hollywood’s worst dye jobs - The Kate Edition
1. Kate Winslet in “The Holiday”
2. Kate Beckinsale in “White Trash Holiday”
3. Kate Moss. Period.

"The Hills" most worthless characters
1. Spencer - The UltaTool
2. Brody - beef stick with a capital Beef
3. Heidi's co-workers; does anyone at Bolthouse actually do anything?

Best TV shows you're not watching
1. Friday Night Lights - Hottest cast on television. All episodes available at NBC.com. If you loved me at all, you'd watch at least one.
2. Veronica Mars
3. America's Next Top Model - can't stop the train wreck

Favorite Doctors on TV
1. Mossimo! aka Dr. Alex Karev
2. Dr. Addison Montgomery (Shep)
3. Dr. Elliot Reed
4. Dr. Gregory House
5. Dr. Ross Geller

Speaking of Doctors...

Shows I can't believe are still on
1. ER
2. King of Queens
3. Girlfriends
4. Next
5. Room Raiders

Reasons to stop the listing
1. Post is running terribly long
2. Could go on forever
3. More to come!

The Tall of It

Last December, my coworker David alerted me to an article about the world's tallest man (7'9") heroically saving two dolphins from choking on plastic by reaching his 41' arm down the dolphian-esophageal passage to remove the obstruction. Speculative instant messaging ensued.


This morning, I receive the following:

David says:
did you hear the news?
David says:
the world's tallest man is getting married
Nat says:
no! OUR world's tallest man?
David says:
yep, the dolphin saver. http://www.cnn.com/2007/WORLD/asiapcf/03/28/china.tall.ap/index.html

[this is where you follow the link, scan the article, and gauge your own reactions]

Nat says:
Wait wait wait.
Nat says:
Marriage advertisements sent around the world?
David says:
yeah, i didn't know he was that desperate.
David says:
especially with half a billion women in his own country.
Nat says:
Wow. What kind of wild news will Tall Man be part of next?
David says:
i know china has been aggressive with its space program. maybe they'll send him to the moon.
David says:
and the olympics will be in beijing next year. maybe he'll be a human torch.
Nat says:
or a pole on which others will vault
David says:
brilliant.

So what do you think? Any obviously snarky comments we've left out of our conversation? I know ya'll have got something to say... I hear it from you all the time. REady... set... snark away!

Testify

I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I saw a Friends episode last night I'd never seen before.

The Weekend's Connect Four

1. I bought makeup that includes an instructional DVD. When did makeup get this hard?


2. I finally got brave and sang karaoke by myself. Two of my favorite songs--"Have a Little Faith" by Mandy Moore and "Independence Day" by Martina McBride. I went with these lovely ladies to the right.
   
3. I wore lipstick for the first time in my life. The 24-year-old girlchild became a woman.
   
4. I washed my sheets and hung up the last three week's worth of clothes. A clean room is like being reborn.

And lastly, I received an email from my cousin/brother Corey that had the greatest P.S. I've read in a long time:

P.S. Ashlyn is crazy about the song: "Think I'll move to Boston........." We tell her you moved there & she wants to move too.

This photo was taken at Christmastime on my pop-in to Phoenix. She's only three but remembered me from the year before when we drove home from Mexico together!

The only way I could get her to have her hair done was to do mine the same.

Her Hands

When Mikhail Gorbachev penned the quote, "The eyes are the window to the soul," I wonder if he sat at his desk, pen in hand, trying to decide exactly which physical charactaristic would be the soul-filled window.

It has come to my attention lately, through comments made by others leading ultimately to self reflection, that I have strange hands.

Each of my fingers is quadruple jointed, I swear it's so. They bend "against the grain" so much that every knuckle seems to bend the way it shouldn't. This isn't strange to me as these are the only hands I've ever had, and hopefully the ones I'll retain through the eternities.

If Miki had decided the hands were the window to the soul, I shall give you a visual gallery of my inner-most soul. Feel free to decide for yourself how cloudy my window glass is.

Can your hands grasp five full-sized liquor bottles?

**Disclaimer: Bottles were found pre-empty and used for target practice in the Nevada desert. (Hi Mom!) The reverse goose wrist. (Hi Alaina!)
What I imagine rigor mortis looks like: The random variations of the claw:

The nub effect:

One of each!

Too much bendy goin' on:

Too stiff!

Ta-da! Freaky hands deserve a freaky photo finish. Creepy eyes and all.

Inside Out

Ever wondered what an iPod looks like on the inside?

Me too. I quit mourning for iPod Uno today and gave it an autopsy. Unfortunately, there's no magic on the inside; no rats running on wheels or cold fusion hard at work. RIP little guy.

And the two shall be twain...

Ha! Yeah CLayton, why don't we love each other?




Claytron + Gnat

= tru luv 4evr!

And the tabloids could call us Clatalie.

I'm Bringing Sweaty Back

Eight. Eight. Ei8ht is great.

This week's run wasn't nearly as sweaty as last week's. I positioned myself by an open window (open to the hallway anyway) and wore black. I'm not one-eighth as disgusting as I was last week. Still a sweat-hog, but not unreasonably so.

Bigger than the mile-marker however, is the fact that I shaved more than a minute off my average mile time. Last week I ran 7 miles at 11:50/mile, this week I ran 8 miles at 10:37/mile. Chances of a 9-miler at 9-minutes a mile is a none to none ratio so don't hold your breath.

I finished Casino Royale tonight. Any recommendations of good adrenaline-rushing movies I should watch when I tackle the 9er next week?

I came home and rewarded/congratulated myself with a Diet (Caffeine-Free so I can sleep) Coke with cherry syrup in it. I need a shower! So with that said...

Pinch Hit

For those of you who don't know, David Letterman had some kind of freak flu bug and had to bow out as host.

Adam Sandler stepped in. Pretty hilarious.

Toosdee

Really brief comments from my last night:

• The crying girl on American Idol. If you watched it, you know what I'm talking about. WTHeck? Why was she bawling hysterically during Sanjacrappy's high school musical selection? And why did the producers keep cutting to her? Oh the awkwardness. I could not stop giggling. And I never giggle.


• Ross had a beeper on Friends to alert him when Carol was having the baby (flashback Season 1). Wow. The start of Friends doesn't seem that long ago. I really am getting old! How silly were pagers anyway?


• As my gChat said yesterday, I can not stop eating. Literally, everything in sight. I'm starting to think I have a condition. And that condition somehow affects my typing too. Something very strange is happening to me lately. I'm always famished and I can't type the simplest of words without backspacing repeatedly.


• I wasn't really feeling the whole running thing last night so I did a quick mile and then lifted weights. I shouldn't feel disappointed in myself but I do anyway.


• And........ the library is a wonderful thing. Two books I've wanted to read for quite awhile were finally available for my pickup. Putting books on hold and getting a happy email indicating they're ready for your enjoyment is one of life's simplest pleasures.

Accountability is a Beast

Good news every one! My insurance cards came in the mail today so you're totally welcome to take me to the hospital now if I get injured in some freak accident. Which is a good feeling. I didn't really want to sit at home with a gaping bloody wound if I lost the dance off with said hoods outside the dry cleaners by the gym and they went ahead and cut me.

And I would have without the insurance cards the postman surprised me with today.

Please note: I am allergic to doxycyclin and the -cycline family of medications. You have all been warned. If I'm injured and you allow me to take drugs of a -cycline nature I will hunt you down and figure out what gives you the most painful hives that spread over your entire body of your entire life.

Deal? Deal.

This is Nat, from her bedroom, signing off for Nat Attack is the new BloG.

Mint Chip and other Hits

The addictive personality inside me continues to wage war against my better judgment. Last week was particularly telling of the weakness to which I am so freely admitting. In no particular order, the hits I couldn't quite fix:

• Not Your Average Joe's restaurant dining. Monday, Wednesday, Friday, Saturday
• Episodes of Friends. They're stacking up on my DVR faster than I can watch.
• "Easy Silence" by the Dixie Chicks. Listened at least 7-15 times per day.
• Mint and melted chocolate chips. I can't stop baking with them. Sugar cookies, chocolate sandwich cookies, mint brownies... I crave it always.
• Papa Gino's Pizza. Tuesday, Thursday, Friday night.

I know there are others, but these are the biggies of last week. How much longer I'll be a slave to the above list I'm not sure--but it's a nice addiction.

Anyone have addictions I should pick up on?

Rinse and Repeat

Do you ever feel like you end up doing the same three or four things over and over again? Lately, I've come to realize there's a list of "to-do's" I feel like I do all the time. Without further ado...

• paying tithing
• plucking my eyebrows
• going to the bathroom

This is my top three. I'm sure there are more. I know there are more, but this is what I've got. WHat are you seemingly always doing?

I See Smart People.

Tonight, several of us were invited (okay, I tagged along) to watch the BYU v. Xavier game at Harvard Business School (HBS to you laymen). Some guys hooked up a laptop to the giant flat screen and brought in their own sound system and we watch the game on streaming video. The wonders of the Internet huh?

From the moment Laura and I stepped into the building we were both fascinated with the prestige that being in the HBS building brought. It's pretty freaking beautiful. $80,000 a year (or however many tens of thousands it is) must fund the gorgeousness that was the building. We snuck out during halftime and took pictures of us being smart people at HBS.

Here I am, studiously reading a case study:

What was the case study? Something about Cherrypicks. It was a little over my head. And made my eyes bleed.

The lovely Laura pondering something deeply intellectual. I can't help but ham it up. This might be the only time I get into Harvard! (Ha, ha, ha.)

Here's half the crew resting in one of the bigger lobbies during halftime (it got pretty stuffy during the game when we were all crowded in yelling, clapping, munching, and sweating).

BYU lost (shocker.) but Laura and I had a fun time stealthly roaming the halls of one of the most prestigious MBA programs in the country/world(?). Never a dull day!

Sweatin' Silly

Seven miles. Se7en bloody miles.

That's how far I ran tonight. I must be crazy.

It's always crazy how I feel I'll never make it past two and then the numbers seem to melt into each other. Even still. When the machine stops at 60 minutes and you have to stop, reboot, and start at zero minutes again, you know you've been on the machine awhile. And the fact that you still have 23 minutes to go before you reach Se7en.

Sweaty Nettie is back! You guys. I don't know if it's the change in temperature, the fact I'd eaten my weight in Not Your Average Joe's bread and sauce mere hours before the run, or WHAT--but I am a sweater. I usually wear black tank tops to the gym. Today I made the mistake (lazy in my laundering) of wearing a grey one. You can not imagine just how sweaty I really was.

And because I delight in my own self-deprecation/embarrassment, I'm going to tell you how sweaty I was! By the end of my run, I had the over-the-hill on-the-brink-of-a-heart-attack man sweat on my chest. From one shoulder to the other, scooping down to the top of my sports bra was solid wet. Readily apparent for the entire world to see. But wait. The sweat stain on my stomach was nearly bleeding into its northern sister. And for a limited time offer, we'll not only throw in the John Candy front sweat, but also the Ruben Studderd back sweat. But wait. This is the part that might seal the deal. My hair was in a ponytail with multiple rubber bands down the length (hello 1987, I missed you) and the bottom section was wet, as it had been sashaying flirtatiously back and forth across my the sweaty mass that was my back.

As Russell Crowe said so elegantly in the Gladiator, "Are you not entertained?"

You should be disgusted. As I am. But in a healthy, I can't believe I really did it type way. I gained inspiration from the adrenaline-inducing fight and chase scenes in Casino Royale. I was watching it on my personal DVD. Hey. You do what you've gotta do.

Things to do before next week's 8 mile
1. Watch "8 Mile" so I can finally have something in common with Em. Get me some street cred.
2. Try to ignore the hoods outside the dry cleaner next to the gym who call you Honey when you walk past them into the gym at 10:30pm.
3. Realizing I've lost my street cred by ignoring said hoods, engage in a dance-off.
4. Get thinner thighs or learn to run bow-legged; this chafing thing is an ailment I'll leave to the cowboys.

Uno y Dos y Scissors

Do you know how hard life is without scissors? Someone should find the inventor of scissors and give him a raise.

My iPod finally came in the mail. My second iPod.

For those who haven't heard the sad, sad story; iPod Uno fell out of my pocket in the driveway one day before work. Then the rains came down and the floods came up and iPod Uno died in a shallow watery grave. For sad.

iPod Dos arrived with little fanfare this afternoon courtesy of FedEx. Returning from Subway (it's Turkey Wednesday people!) I was elated to find the brown box on my desk. I set about immediately trying to unearth the Dos.

No scissors to be found.

Tape is strong! I am not!

Nonetheless, weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth ensured my solid victory.

But really, who do you think invented scissors? A strange question I've never thought about before. Guess I'll go do some investigative journalism and report back.

Until then! Pray that Dos lasts longer than the Uno!

Incentive to Blog

For Christmas, I asked for a year journal. Basically, the book is paged by days and is used over a multiple-year spread. January 1 has a page, January 2, ... etc. This is a perfect way for me to journal as writing is condensed to short little snippets and phrases.

The journals are rather hard to find, but my sister Alaina found one and loved me enough to mail it out.

Today, I realized my count was off. I had to page back through and figure out where I screwed up. LEAP DAY! Argh. I remember what happens day by day (Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday) and not numerically (the 22nd, 23rd, 24th). So I kept right on writing through February 29th. Bust.

Nevertheless, I've been good about filling in the days and have all but nine days filled in since the beginning of the year. I'll confess that a week usually passes before I remember to write in the elegantly bound, navy hardcover book. Where my memory is mostly pretty good, I struggle with the "not much happened outside the ordinary" type days. Two of my nine blank pages came from last week. Confession: I actually checked my blog to see if I had written anything of significant occurrence.

And then I realized how much I depend on this blog. Maybe I should get a life. But what's a cool life without a blog to log it?

I'm torn.

Squeaky Wheel gets the Oil

I'm a sucker this morning. Clayton and Matt squeaked about ...

I'm still not quite sure what, but this blog is dedicated to those two.

Just for fun, check out the babies we were our Sophomore year in high school.

We spent a week in New York City--this is us at the Lion King:

Clayton, Nat, and Matt

Then, Matt went ahead and got married and moved to California.

Here's Clayton performing his best man duties.

This post just reminded me of a really craptacular song I learned once:

Make new friends, but keep the old; some are silver and the others gold.

You can begin lobbying for silver or gold status..... now!

Think I'll Start a New Life

Third blog of the day... I'm on some kind of roll...

Today is the first day the number of Massachusetts readers outnumber the Utahans.

I do believe some kind of critical milestone has been reached.

So happy I'm here!

Sunrise Sunset

This is the view I woke up to this morning.... ... in Connecticut.

Yes, there are sunrises in Massachusetts. But I can't sleep in a house in a room overlooking the Atlantic Ocean in Massachusetts can I?

A very quick, very spontaneous trip to New Haven, CT was thrust upon me last evening at 10:15 PM at our house-hosted Games 'n Goodies night. Nevermind the fact I have to work at 9:30 the next morning, I'm in.

Why'd we go? Brian had to go to his dad's house and pick up the Audi S4 being hand-me-downed. Someone needed to drive his manual car back home the next morning--and I was the only experienced stick driver willing to make the trip.

So Colleen, Jenni, Brian, and I hit the road about 11:00. I'm the shadow on the far right. Proof I was at the creeper gas station/bathroom off the side of the road.

The drive there was probably my favorite part--we created random traditions at random mile posts: "Say something nice about the person sitting counter-clockwise you" at mile 96.4 and "What was your first impression of ______" at mile 44.2.

We stayed up chatting, playing the piano, driving Brian's new Audi at insanely fast speeds on two lane, small town roads, and a host of other "only on road trips when it's way too late" type activities.

5:30 dawned awfully early, but it was worth it to see the sunrise. Yeah that's right, coming from me!--the non-morningest-person in the world--it was awesome to see. In fact I stood outside in sub-freezing temperatures for at least ten minutes taking it all in.

This is what being young is about. And I think Tevya may agree.

I'm Going Phishing for a Mate

Anyone who actually downloads the new Monster certified utility deserves whatever virus they download. Especially considering the "click here" links to zvtwbmpbnfbh.com/download.php. Seriously though, how dumb can you be?

Stoneybrook, CT Revisited

When I started this blog last April, I didn't have any designs on being famous. Fate had other plans.

You may remember my post about The Babysitter's Club. If you don't, never fear--I merely compared myself to each of the BSC members; all because I got my bangs cut and decided I looked like Dawn.

A random post from a randomer thinker, right?

Well get this. Last week I received a comment from a Columbia Journalism student. She was writing an article on the impact the BSC books had on 20-30 year olds who still have fond memories of the characters and books and wanted to know if she could interview me.

Hot dog! Why not.

We arranged a time for a phone interview and so last night, as I was perusing the aisles at the grocery store, Melissa and I had a fairly in-depth conversation about the Babysitter's Club books. Who knew?

My favorite question she asked was, "Did you think it at all strange that you had a completely random memory association without having picked up a book in 15 years?" I honestly had to tell her no. My mind works in the strangest ways (ya'll should know that by now!) and I've learned to take the random curveballs my brain sends me and hit them out of the park.

Questions ranged from, "When did you start reading the books?" to "Did you start at the beginning?" "Are there any characters you strongly dislike?" and "Did your recalling the BSC entice you to reach out to the network of fan clubs and forums dedicated to the Babysitter's Club?"

Did you know there are online role playing games you can play with the BSC members? Players take the Sitters into high school and beyond. Claudia has a baby and Kristy is on drugs. Creepy strange. And slightly disturbing.

Melissa will now write her article and send it out over the Columbia news wire, which is an affiliate of the New York Times. 400 editors will have the chance to pick it up; she said a half-dozen or so probably would. Editors love quirky--and this could be a big hit with Connecticut papers. I asked her to keep me updated on where she gets printed.

So let this be a lesson friends. Posting about the randomest of things can bring about the randomest of requests. Blogs are the podium for grass-roots experts to share what they know in an open forum. Stay tuned for my next post on quantum physics...

What's in a Name

I lived about seventeen years before any of my friends started using Nat with regularity. It's true.

To my mom and sisters, I've always been Nettie.
To my dad, I'm Net. Or Netlet.

I think my grandparents are my only family members to use Nat. Even still.

Somewhere in the last five years, my world has fully immersed me as Nat. In fact, I've gotten to the point in certain social circles that I feel strange to hear my full name used by certain people.

As "Nat" is a nickname to the full "Natalie" I was blessed with, and nickname usage usually indicates familiarity, I like when people call me Nat. I feel like we're on a comfortable, familiar level. The people who call me Nat usually know me or something about me that's beyond surface value.

On the flipside, I like when people I'm just meeting take it upon themselves to call me Nat. Sometimes pretending you're better friends than you really are is a good jumpstart to an actual friendship.

There have only been a few times I have not enjoyed being called Nat. And to be honest, I can't remember who/what they even were! So there you go.

For as many people as call me Nat though, there are certain of my besties who still call me Natalie in full, and I kind of like that too. (Mostly it's the very few high school friends I'm still holding on to.)

I've never written my own name/pseudo-name so many times before in such a condensed space. Crazy! And strange.

Long story short. Call me whatever you want.

My Bologna has a first name...

Because this picture makes me happy.

And if the weenie mobile can't make you smile, I don't think you've got much hope.

Una Fiesta para Nada!

Happy Cinco de Marzo!

A celebration of prime numbers. 03/05/07.

(At least I hope those are all prime numbers. Elsewise this could be a telling post eh? )

So celebrate everything in prime-time style tonight.

What that means? I'm not exactly sure. But Boston has a party for everything else, why not Cinco de Marzo?

The Wonder Years: Part I

I haven't always been as big as I am now. Let me take you through a brief photo history of who I am. (Because I'm bored on a Sunday night and haven't posted pictures in awhile.)

Once upon a time, I was a baby. A red-head baby.

Last year I decided I wasn't a particularly cute baby, I was just a baby. See? I can be objective. In fact, I think I looked a little like an old man. (Click on the photo for a zoomed in view. In fact, I think I actually look a little like a monkey. Look for yourself and try to tell me I'm wrong!)

Somewhere along the way though, I lost the red hair and got a boy haircut.

This cut would follow me off and on for the next six years.

By the time I hit kindergarten, I was a real girl! The red was lost and replaced with what we'll call blonde. Look at me, rockin' the home-cut bangs. Almost straight Mom, almost.

Blah blah blah, time marches on. Now I COULD be kind to myself and skip over the next ten years of awkwardness, but what would be the fun in that?

So, with no shame for the past... I present "Nat: The Awkward Years."

...

OH NO! Blogger won't let me post anymore photos. What a drag. I'll have to do these posts in a series. That's it, I'm renaming this blog right now. Stay tuned for further, more incriminating photos.

Books and Baked Goods

I spent last evening after work with five gorgeous, hilarious, very smart women. It was one of my favorite activities since I've been here in Boston.