lately i've been thinking...

No Strings Attached

2011-01-23T06:51:00.000-08:00

Perhaps I was overcompensating for the unfortunate Deer Hunter experience, but my normally superior movie picking skills have failed me recently. First it was Ashton Kutcher and Katherine Heigl - sounds like a dream cast, right? Well, that's what I thought too. And so, I settled in with wine, Luke and pack of black dogs prepared to be entertained (I require nothing more of my movies). No such luck. Total stinker. I can't remember the name of the movie and, honestly, it's probably for the best I would hate for anyone else to have to suffer that 90 minutes of disappointment. Just know this, the premise of the movie is that Ashton Kutcher is a high powered covert CIA operative living in the burbs. Ready for the crazy twist?? All of the seemingly docile and boring neighbors were blood-thirst assassins out to get him and his lovely (pregnant) wife, Katherine Heigl. Major let down.

Next up, the Back Up Plan with J.Lo. I have seen many of J.Lo's films and typically they are just my speed. Maid in Manhattan? lovely. The Wedding Planner? A delight. The Back Up Plan? TOTAL dud. A mash up of about 7 other, better, rom coms. The lone bright spot in this movie was a cameo by Cesar Milan. But, alas, the dog whisperer was not enough to redeem this movie.

At this point, I know many movie goers would be running to the comfort of some critically acclaimed indie film. Well, you can keep your King's Speech and your Black Swan, I am not so easily deterred. Last night I was ready to give Ashton another shot and give Natalie a chance to erase that Black Swan blemish from her resume and No Strings Attached exceeded expectations in every category.

My good buddy A.O Scott had this to say: “No Strings Attached,” directed by Ivan Reitman from a script by Elizabeth Meriwether, is not entirely terrible. Once again, Mr. Scott has missed the mark. As far as rom coms go, this is Oscar material. Seriously, the cast was stellar, the writing clever, the plot quick, the stars very easy on the eyes, and the ending happy. 5 stars - a must see.

That's What She Said

2011-01-06T08:10:00.000-08:00

Hello and Happy New Year!

As I rang in 2011 with fireworks and champagne I vowed to not fall victim to pedestrian new year's resolutions. I decided to leave exercising more and fiscal restraint to the masses, my sights have been set FAR higher. I am looking to build a digital media empire in 2011. The foundation has, of course, already been laid with the carly pumpkin blog but new in 2011 we will have, wait for it, The That's What She Said Podcast. I will be co-hosting this podcast with my future Amazing Race partner, Allison Jones. Here's the iTunes description:

Do you have problems and aren't particularly picky about who helps you solve them? Have you been looking for life advice from two totally unqualified people? Then, The That's What She Said Podcast with Carly and Allison is your answer!

Listeners rave about the show:

"Worse than Showgirls!"

"Well, that was a huge waste of time."

"I will never get those 30 minutes back."

"You are both really annoying. Especially Carly."

--Yep. That's What She Said.

Millions of figurative listeners can't be wrong. Subscribe today. You might be sorry you did!

Legal Notice: No advice given on this show should actually be followed. It is completely useless and potentially life threatening.

Check here in about a week for the first episode: http://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/thats-what-she-said/id413110702

And email me at carly@thethatswhatshesaidpodcast.com if you would like to be on the show!

The 5 Week Itch

2010-12-10T12:28:00.000-08:00

Through a lifetime of rigorous field studies, I have determined beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am not a girl who needs a boyfriend. It’s important to note that this is not at ALL the same as not wanting a boyfriend – it just means that I am not going to bear the company of some dude who struggles with subject verb agreement and whose reading list consists of menus and street signs, just to have someone to spend my evenings with. That said, it’s probably not a good policy to ignore every guy who, upon first meeting, does not immediately strike me as a catch.

This leads me to my current situation and it is one I have found myself in before. The actual guy in question matters less than the situation itself (this time a fellow who does something related to cars and the maintenance they require – but it could just as easily be the foreign guy, the writer, the consultant). And the situation is this: I begin casually dating a guy who I think will be “fun” knowing 100% that it will not be “permanent”. I also know from the beginning that the fun will not last forever but I figure why not enjoy it while I can. So - this all goes along great until I reach the inevitable point when his lack of interest in anything besides Belgian beer and football stops being charming and starts being REALLY, REALLY annoying.

Then what am I to do??? This point is often reached after 4-5 weeks – too late to easily do my go-to: the fadeout (though I have done it). A conversation, on the other hand seems a little much given that this is not even a full-blown relationship. As a rule of thumb, I try to avoid conversations about feelings and whatnot as much as possible. And in this instance I don’t even have something dramatic to point to as a cause for my not wanting to see them anymore. 4-5 weeks isn’t enough time for: cheating, working too much, not wanting to have children, being an alcoholic – I mean, really I hardly know the guy. The only thing to say is - “You annoy me please stop calling. I know you didn’t annoy me before but you do now. Sorry.” I am definitely not ready to have that level of frank discussion. I am not even that honest with my doctor.

So, what am I to do??

Rachel McAdams to the Rescue

2010-11-28T16:28:00.000-08:00

As you all know, I have suffered through my fair share of terrible movies (see also: Slumdog Millionaire, The Wrestler). I, however, had no idea about the depths of misery that could be inflicted by a movie until I saw The Deer Hunter. I should probably say that much of this experience was my own doing - although I did not suggest this movie, I was not tied or bound and placed in front of the television with my eyelids super-glued open. My culpability ends there - the rest of the blame lays squarely with De Niro, Streep, and whatever satanic director thought up this visual monstrosity.

The beginning of the movie was tricky - a group of friends, a wedding, small town camaraderie. Sure Meryl's dad drinks too much and hunting deer does not make me very happy, but it wasn't terrible. I knew, though, that the relative calm and tranquility would be short-lived. I just knew it. And then, OUT OF NOWHERE, the unsuspecting viewer is transported from western PA to a freaking Vietnam POW camp. There were underwater cages, nasty vietnam army guys, and games of russian roulette. I am sure there were all sorts of other unpleasant things but I had my eyes closed for much of it. I reopened them just in time to see some nice american boy blow half of his face off in that game of russian roulette I was just telling you about.

All told, I think I made it through about 45 minutes of the movie before I had to ask (demand strongly) my host to turn off the movie. I just don't understand why people think the world would be such a terrible place if all movies featured Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts.

Fortunately, I was able to purge that horrendous experience from my memory this weekend when I saw Morning Glory. A terrific little film with a star-studded cast: Diane Keaton, Harrison Ford, Jeff Goldblum, and the real hero: Rachel McAdams. As Manohla Dargis wrote "If you spend enough time with Rachel McAdams, it’s easy to get lost in the pleasure of her company, or at least become enjoyably distracted. Effortlessly likable, she has a way of keeping you tethered to her character even when your attention begins to wander." You hear that, Streep? Oscars alone don't make you likable.

Fancy Picture Box

2010-11-22T14:57:00.000-08:00

This summer, facing personal fiscal crisis and thinking myself culturally superior, I cancelled my cable subscription. I was sick of paying $100 a month for something I barely used. The way I figured, I could use the $60 of that that was for the TV on something else and fill my time easily with books (hello library!), the New Yorker (each article easily takes a whole night to read), and most importantly Hulu and Netflix On Demand (so I could watch my select shows and movies). And when my Rafa was top-spinning his way to 3 major titles I relied on the the good graces of friends and local drinking establishments. All of that entertainment and I could still take the cultural high road and respond "oh, I don't have TV" when someone would ask me if I had seen Dancing With the Stars.

The problem was - I am not nearly as sophisticated as I thought. I missed the TV real bad. I lived in denial abou this for several months but what finally spurred me to action was Sunday mornings. I REALLY missed Sunday morning talk shows. The main drawback of online TV viewing is that you can't watch anything live or current.

So, last weekend I went to Best Buy determined to remedy the situation. I asked one of the helpful clerks what I could get to "make the pictures come on" without cable and he pointed me to some old-school rabbit ears. I was THRILLED. Sunday morning TV for a one-time $11 purchase?! I got home and followed the instructions (very short - old school technology is so user friendly) and hooked those little guys up. NADA. I stuck the antenna out the window and the best I could do was fuzzy Home Shopping Network and spanish cartoons.

I was crestfallen. Defeated and downtrodden, I got my phone and called those monopolistic bastards at KableTown and made an appointment to return the pictures to my life. The experiment is over and I am once again part of mainstream, tv viewing America. A car AND cable - it's like a whole new me!

Super pumped for Millionaire Matchmaker tonight!!

2010-11-01T08:53:00.000-07:00

Hello! Wow, it's been awhile since I have tapped out one of these little posts. Something special has inspired me to write again. A friend (technically, a husband of a friend...but he's a nice enough guy so we'll go ahead and call him a friend) has recently started a cool blog called Feed the Animal. On the site he tells little stories and anecdotes through recipes - I know there is a parallel to be drawn here but it escapes me at the moment. In any event, check it out.

So this weekend Rafa and I packed up our bags and headed to Flourtown, PA to dog sit for the Goodmans (of the aforementioned Feed the Animal) fame. Inspired by Dave's cooking and not wanting to miss an opportunity to cook in their AMAZING new kitchen (a considerable upgrade from what passes for a kitchen in my apt) I headed out to the Whole Foods and procured the makings for a fall feast.

Grilled Halibut with Sauteed Brussel Sprouts and Roasted Butternut Squash with Sage and Shallots.

Over on FTA, Dave is pretty good with setting out recipes and measurements...carly pumpkin...not so much.

The brussel sprouts are a variation on a dish served at Audrey Claire and they are delicious. If had bad brussel sprout experiences as a child or have avoided the food all together because you just assumed it would be vile; this dish will change you. It's REAL good - and very easy to make. Just halve the brussel sprouts, put a healthy amount of butter and olive oil in a pan, salt, pepper, and away we go. It's important to get the sprouts to brown, the more brown the better. Equally important to cook them thoroughly, you want them to be very tender. Tough sprouts are no good. Here are the sprouts in action:

Next up we have the butternut squash. This is a little more labor intensive than the sprouts but very tasty. First, you have to peel and cube the squash:

Helpers:

So after you have peeled and cubed, slice a shallot and some sage leaves. Toss all together with olive oil and place in 400 degree oven. Ideally, after 25 minutes you have have nicely browned little squash bites, this didn't really happen for me so I threw them under the broiler for a couple of minutes to finish and that worked pretty well.

There was also halibut which a) does not photograph well raw and b) was so easy it's hardly worth mentioning. Cover halibut with olive oil, salt, pepper place on well heated grill pan. Sear each side and finish in oven with the squash. Served with a shallot butter (minced shallots, butter, salt).

Delish. The finished product:

If only our movie selection had been as good as our meal. For future reference, Katherine Heigl and Ashton Kutcher do not make convincing CIA operatives. I know, I was as surprised as anyone and had to discover this the hard way.

Stacy, judging from the clues left around the house, was this the meal you would have guessed?

Cooking Sountrack: Bruce Springsteen.

Served with Malbec.

Some People Wait A Lifetime for a Moment Like This...

2010-09-22T07:28:00.000-07:00

First, let me apologize for the delay in this posting; I know many were disappointed. But frankly, when something this major happens it's best to collect one's thoughts before commenting. No, I did not find a husband or a new job (I obviously would have at least updated my FB status for such a major event). The moment I have have been working towards for five long but satisfying years finally happened: A Career Grandslam. For my Rafa of course. My Rafa, fresh off of wins at Roland Garros and Wimbledon, dispensed with opponenents from near and far as he steamrolled his way to victory at the US Open. All while dropping only a single set.

The whole tournament was amazing and I even got to go see a match. That handsome gigante, John Isner. He didn't win but watching in person was super fun and yelling "COME ON, JOHNNY" is really satisfying.

And although I did not get to see my Rafa in person following him through the Open was thrilling. He looked downright princely in his evening attire of jet black and neon green with a sporty new short hair cut to match. His play was mesmerizing and the win well deserved. It's so gratifying to know that my yells of "VAMOS HONEY" and the lengths I go to watch all of the matches despite not having a TV are worth it.

You're welcome:

PS Thank you to Kelly Clarkson for the amazing song that lent this post its title. You never fail me and will always be the American Idol to me.

Let Jesus Take the Wheel

2010-07-30T05:52:00.000-07:00

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

2010-07-27T11:03:00.001-07:00

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

2010-07-19T16:53:00.000-07:00

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

2010-07-08T06:22:00.000-07:00

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

2010-06-07T17:45:00.000-07:00

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

2010-05-19T06:27:00.000-07:00

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

2010-04-04T19:10:00.001-07:00

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!

It's the End of The World as We Know It

2010-02-09T06:13:00.000-08:00

Snowpocolyse, Snowmaggedon, and today: Snowzilla vs. Flakenstein Grudgematch. The mid-atlantic region has recently looked a lot like Alaska (if only Rafa could pull a sled) with record breaking snowfalls blanketing the area. Aside from taking Rafa for snow romps, I was left with a LOT of time to fill this weekend. I have mentioned before that TV sometimes struggles to hold my attention (exceptions of course for Glee, The Wire, Real Housewives of NJ) and now a new unlikely TV hero has arrived to rescue me from hours of snowbound boredom: Patty Stanger. That's right, my friends at Bravo have brought me a little present in the form of The Millionaire Matchmaker. One episode and I was HOOKED. From "sex-toy dave" to the botox ridden "superficial bitch" the entertainment just doesn't stop.

We are supposed to get another 12-18 inches of snow, and while I could spend the snowday saving our schools I will instead be praying for a Millionaire Matchmaker Snowmathon.

Edited to add: I was so caught up in relaying my love of Millionaire Matchmaker that I forgot to tell you all about Rafa's future as a search and rescue dog. Rafa's nose is second to none, he can sniff out the dog park and discarded chicken wings from a block away. During our wintry walk on Saturday, he was burrowing his little snout into a three-foot snowbank with purpose! I commented to my walking companion that he clearly had the makings for a search and rescue dog, and all this without ANY training. After nearly a minute of determined pursuit, Rafa resurfaced with his rescue: a raw, semi-frozen chicken cutlet. So provided the would-be victims of the next natural disaster strap themselves with raw poultry before being buried alive by rubble....Rafa to the Rescue!!!

Suave Tigre!

2010-01-04T14:29:00.000-08:00

On Day 1 of our Costa Rican adventure I set out with my Aunt, Uncle and two cousins to Playa del Oro, a remote beach on the pacific coast of costa rica. This was not a beach like Miami, Cancun, or even the Jersey Shore where the sand is packed with groups of people each producing their own symphony of sound. The silence on the beach was blissful and precisely the reason we had flown five hours and driven 2 hours on dirt roads to get here. There were no boom boxes or obnoxiously loud sun bathers; just the sound of the waves and the muted noises of the few other people on the beach. As for the others on the beach…this was a local spot, we were the only Americans on this plot of sand. A fact immediately understood just by glancing in our direction.

My aunt and uncle had toted two beach chairs down from my father's house. Not the kind of beach chairs with the various stages of recline and relaxation but rather the short, stout, and stiff variety. The little squat chairs that put your butt approximately a half an inch off the sand and are favored by unnaturally tanned, older women who like to bring them to the water's edge so that they may read their romance novels while the ebb and flow of the sea keeps them cool. There they sat perched upon their striped chairs, he wearing a shirt designed to keep one's base layer dry when performing daunting physical activities like climbing K2 or making breakfast. They also work well at protecting one's winter white body from the beating Costa Rican sun. My aunt employed a more classic technique and was but a stick figure beneath a sun dress, a towel draped across her legs, a baseball hat and sunglasses.

I don't know if the books they were reading were boring or they grew tired of watching the waves roll in, but they mutually decided on an impromptu Spanish lesson. And out came the Spanish to English dictionary and the Latin American Phrase Book. The latter quickly became the preferred text and as I drifted in out of awareness from reading my book I could hear the murmurs of mangled Spanish followed immediately by cackles and giggles. I paid closer attention as the impaired declaration of Spanish phrases grew louder. As any born entertainer would, my aunt and uncle sensed the interest growing from my cousins and me and began to play to the crowd. Before long they were shouting these Spanish phrases and I was no longer paying any attention to my book. Because, really, whatever I was reading was not nearly as engaging as the screams of "mas rapido! mas duro! mas lento! suave!" (faster! harder! slower! softer!)

My uncle had stumbled upon the chapter dedicated to pillow talk (conveniently located after the chapters on "in the bar" and "pick-up lines") in the phrase book and he and my aunt were now effectively holding a public audition for a Latino porn. When my uncle offered "Queres entrar un rato? (Do you want to come inside for awhile?) My aunt demured "No lo voy a hacer sin protecction" (I won't do it without protections). When my uncle persisted " Vamos a la cama" (Let's go to bed). My aunt shut him down with "Suave Tigre!" (Eaaasy Tiger).

Just another day of family fun time at the beach!

A Less Good Morning America

2009-12-17T10:26:00.000-08:00

Each morning, after a dog walk and shower I sit down to eat my oatmeal, drink a cup of coffee, and watch a little morning TV. It is a time for Rafa and I to discuss what we have on the day's agenda and catch up on current events and the weather. For a long time my morning TV of choice was the Today show on NBC. I like Matt Lauer, LOVE Meredith Vierra, and Ann and Al don't offend me too much. But what I realized after a while of watching Today every morning is that 98% of the show is spent talking about "what's up right after the break" and about 2% of the show is spent on actual segments. You don't really notice at first, it's easy to get lost in the casual banter between Matt and Mer. But when you only have 12 minutes to watch and are actually interested in seeing the segment they were talking about when you first tuned in...you f-ing notice that they don't ever get to it!

My frustration grew and grew until I finally did it. I switched to GMA. I loved Dianne Sawyer's good looks and easy way with the guests. I was developing a small but growing crush on Chris Cuomo, and I knew it was time to get ready for work when that insufferable d-bag Sam Champion comes on...the show is not without its imperfections. But just as I was settling into my new routine and new friends at GMA they totally changed everything!

I tuned in on Monday to see hat instead of a lovely, blonde Sawyers next to Robin there was this little elfin creature. Mr. Stephanopoulos looks like a child sitting on that couch and I would not be the least bit surprised if his feet don't touch the ground. And at the news desk instead of the handsome Mr. Cuomo there is this lady named Ju Ju who Robin called Choo Choo (like a train) at one point. No one can possibly like this new arrangement.

I don't know what I am going to do.

1 and 1

2009-12-09T17:40:00.000-08:00

Last weekend was one of cinematic discovery for me, filled with highs and lows. Friday night I saw the much anticipated (by me) Sandra Bullock movie: The Blind Side. Now, I knew very little about the premise of this movie going into it, but I knew all I needed to. I, for example, knew that I cried tears of joy during the trailer for it (always a promising sign). My desire to see it was further strengthened after reading this from my old buddy A.O Scott at the NYTimes: " a movie made up almost entirely of turning points and yet curiously devoid of drama or suspense...(the film) plays this story straight down the middle, shedding nuance and complication in favor of maximum uplift." Ummm...Sold! Say no more. If I could only use one word to describe this precious little gem of a movie it would be: amazing (speaking of Precious...this movie almost erased any remaining horror and misery I had from see THAT movie). Sandra Bullock gave a spot-on performance as a wealthy, southern lady (a character I know a little something about. Hi Nashville friends!!!!) Combine her sassy ways with a heartwarming underdog story and you have the sleeper hit of the holiday season and my new favorite NFL Team: So long Eagles helllllllllloooo Ravens. Bravo!!!!

This, though, was just the beginning of my weekend o' movies. Fast forward to Sunday and I had plans to see the George Clooney pic: Up In the Air. This movie was playing at the Ritz which makes me hesitant from the get go...but I love me some Clooney. Further adding to my hesitation was the glowing review from Manohla Dargis who by most accounts appears to hate going to the movies. This hater of the rom-com and I do not tend to see eye to eye on what makes a great movie but I carried on with my plans knowing at least that there would be a yummy dinner waiting for me after the movie. Well, there I am in the theatre, freezing, but reeeally enjoying this movie. But something was afoot. I had an uneasy feeling throughout all of Clooney's high-flying adventures. Something told me that this movie was too pleasant and fun to watch for that snob Dargis to enjoy. And then....I understood. I don't want to spoil it for anyone but I wished I had just gone to see the Blind Side again. I just don't understand why Clooney is capable of Ocean's 11 and One Fine Day but continues to make drivel like this.

Foxy's Tale

2009-12-03T07:11:00.000-08:00

After reading the outrage of my many fans I added to Annie's Christmas Book list. Thanks to the wonder of one-click at Amazon...Foxy's Tale should be arriving at my house in 4-7 days. Ed and Kelly, I would like some sort of commemorative champagne flute for my contribution to the White Wedding Fund.

Carly Pumpkin Christmas

2009-12-02T06:12:00.000-08:00

As always, Thanksgiving was followed this year by a day of Candy House making. After last year's syscrapers of conspicuous consumption, we returned this year to simpler themes and more modest construction. Alex and I crafted a truly a classic red and green themed home with nod to Hanukkah ( a blue and white sky light).

We assembled the masterpiece in record time through careful planning, strategy, and cooperative execution. Really though, the house speaks for itself.

I have also gotten a headstart on this year's Christmas shopping. I will be heading to Costa Rica the day after Christmas this year and plan to arrive with a bag full of presents for Baby Annie. So far she is getting books. A few books I loved: Shel Silverstein, Where the Wild Things Are, and a new sure-to-be- classic, Nubs.

I heard about Nubs a few weeks ago on the Today show and started crying into my oatmeal at the heartwarming story of friendship, determination, and loyalty. It is based on the true story of a Marine and a dog he befriended while on duty in Iraq. The marine and the dog, Nubs, formed a special friendship during his stay in Iraq and when the Marine got reassigned to the Jordani border, little Nubs followed the trail of the convoy some 70 miles and 3 days to be reunited with his soldier buddy. Crying a little bit as I type that.

Despite Annie confessing a desire to make "dog soup" she really does love animals, especially canines, and I think she will really like this book!!

The 600 lb Vegetarian in the Room

2009-11-17T06:06:00.001-08:00

I have successfully completed week 1 of my vegetarianism and I have survived, although not without consequences. The word vegetarian suggests the consumption of lots and lots of vegetables...well it has been my brief experience that being a vegetarian also includes the consumption of a lot of cheese, butter, and bread. The photo above is my dinner last night (recipe from SmittenKitchen), a sweet potato and chard gratin. It was delicious and dare I say better than bacon. Unfortunately, the dish would be more aptly named milk, butter and cheese, tossed with sweet potatoes and chard.

I do feel good that I haven't contributed to the death of any cute creatures this week I just hope those little critters know the price I am paying for their lives. I hope they will still love and support me when I don a sports bra and spandex for my bid on the Biggest Loser.

mmmm vegetables

2009-11-12T16:49:00.000-08:00

When I was 12 years old my family and I took Thanksgiving on the road to the Outer Banks in North Carolina. My father, fancying himself quite the angler, led this holiday road trip so that he could be there for the renowned "bluefish run" on Hatteras Island at the end of November. During the "run" the waves are thick with schools of bluefish...a fisherman's dream come true and as I would soon learn, my worst nightmare.

I followed my Dad down to the beach one afternoon, rods in hand ready to catch some of these tasty fish. What greeted me on the beach was not the charming father daughter moment we both hoped for but rather fish genocide unfolding on the shores. Those asshole bluefish had chased the little croakers and spots onto the beach, and the barbaric fisherman were casting multiple lines hoping to rack up as many fish as possible during the short window of the run. There were fish flapping and dying, gasping their last breaths everywhere I looked. I started crying hysterically and frantically trying to return the fish to the ocean. It was all in vain, of course, and after a bit I fled back to the house and promptly became a vegetarian. I remained a vegetarian for close to a year I think (pretty committed for a 12 year old on a whim).

Well fast forward 12 (ehhh, 17) years and instead of witnessing fish genocide I read an article and then about 20 more on factory farming. This is precisely the type of topic I try to avoid knowing that it will make me so sad I won't be able to forget about it. However, if I don't know ANYTHING about I can happily eat my burger medium rare and live by the maxim that "everything is better with bacon". Well, no more. After reading these articles and seeing one picture of a cow getting ready to be bolted who could have passed for Rafa's cousin with those soulful brown eyes and shiny black fur, I could no longer revel in blissful ignorance. I am still working out the details of my vegetarianism (like might I eat meat if I know that it was pasture raised and slaughtered humanely) but until those issues are resolved no meat for me!

This Little Piggy Went to Fairmount...

2009-11-10T06:56:00.000-08:00

I just want to push my face against those little snouts!!!!

Given the current hysteria over the H1n1 virus, I realize this post may be tough sell for some.

Every morning when I leave for work, I suffer minor heartbreak at seeing my little Rafa bear's face as he realizes that he is about to settle in for several uninterrupted hours of solitude. A piece of me dies each morning. I often think that I should get another dog to keep him company but Rafa has shown some slight tendencies toward unwelcome only-child behavior. Let's just say he needs a little work on playing well with others when they are in his house. We are working on this and definite progress is being made, but at present we are not ready to welcome another canine family member. But then this morning I read this and it got me to thinking maybe we could welcome a new swine family member!!!

They are cute, smart, obedient, and would take care of the issue I have when my trash fills up by sunday...but trash day isn't until tuesday. And I think this is way more practical than when I wanted to get a walrus.

Eat. Pray. Do As I Say.

2009-10-15T16:17:00.000-07:00

Boone, NC (i took this pic with my new camera!)

Rafa and I are just back from a wonderful long weekend in the mountains of North Carolina. The weekend was just perfect: filled with friends, food, activities, simply gorgeous surroundings, and Rafa really came into his own as a mountain dog! Our days were spent hiking, eating, playing games, painting, doing yoga, and reading (just writing that makes me want to go back). Though the hikes were challenging and the game competition fierce, it was really the reading that caused the most hostility during the trip.

Specifically, it was the book that I am reading called "Eat. Pray. Love." that caused all of my travel companions to get all up in arms. Apparently, they have something against self-discovery and contentment. I have to admit that I, too, was skeptical about reading this book. You may not know this about me, given my pedestrian movie tastes, but I am kind of a cultural snob. I have avoided the Da Vinci Code like the freaking plague and if there is a book you don't want me to ever read...just go ahead and put that Oprah's book club sticker on it and consider it done.

One Sunday, a couple of weeks ago, I was strolling around Border's looking for something new to read and EPL was prominently displayed on one of the front tables. So I picked it up and read the back and decided to give it a go. Here I should probably admit that Julia Roberts is currently filming the movie version of EPL and this played a not insignificant role in my decision.

Anyway, the book is about a woman whose life falls apart and who then decides to travel the world looking to explore the concepts of happiness, spirituality, and balance. I tore through the section on Italy where she described, in salivating detail, all the meals and pleasure she experienced there. Next, we were off to India to spend 4 months in an Ashram. This part was, admittedly, less up my alley. Not sure I am into all that deprivation and chanting.

I am now onto Bali and hoping that this section brings the book to a close on a high note. Spoiler alert: I already know she falls in love and it has a true-life, it could happen to you fairy tale ending...also a factor in my decision to read the book.

I will report back just as soon as I am finished.

2009-09-25T08:37:00.000-07:00

Hey Kids! Happy Friday!!

Although I am busily preparing to host a fete for family and friends this evening I wanted to take a moment to share something pretty special with you.

Did you ever wonder what it would be like if someone created a television show JUST for you. One that fit your interests perfectly? I have often lamented here and here that Hollywood is not meeting my cinematic needs...same goes for TV (excluding american idol and reruns of House). Well, no longer!!! Glee is here!!

Glee is my everything. Witty dialogue, genuine charm, and winning song and dance routines. Last week they raised the bar with the football team breaking out an "All the Single Ladies" performance in the final minute of their game.

If Julia Roberts does a cameo as the new drama teacher I will seriously lose my shit.

Crazy in Love

2009-09-22T17:04:00.000-07:00

I want to be Beyonce. I have wanted to be her for quite sometime now. She is smokin hot, sings real pretty, is married to Jay-z, and is arguably a better dancer than I.

This has only strengthened my desire to trade in my j.crew and crocs in favor of a leotard and some double sided tape:

Beyoncé - New Music - More Music Videos

Please ignore the annoying commercial before the magic starts.

WTF?!?!

2009-09-15T07:20:00.000-07:00

Feel good film of the decade?? Are you f-ing kidding me?

I am not sure how, with all of the Oscar buzz and people absolutely fawning over the movie, that the warning never made its way to me. But seriously, SOMEONE should have told me that no matter what, no matter how tempting, no matter how many Oscars, that I should never, ever, under any circumstances see Slumdog Millionaire.

I think there is really enough blame to go around on this one. The misinformation campaign for this film is right up there with GW Bush and the tobacco companies. WHY would you show me a song and dance routine? You know I can not bypass a strong piece of choreography. Couple that with a catchy song (you're next MIA)... I didn't stand a chance.

And what about the people who actually saw this movie (friends of mine) who then did not immediately forbid me from ever seeing it. I am disgusted with you.

So I ended up watching this "film" on my laptop in the backseat on the way to VA for a wedding this weekend. Bad bad idea. 1 hour and 56 minutes of unimaginable suffering and 4 brief minutes of redemption at the end.

1 star out of 5. Despite a happy ending this film contains gratuitous filth, sadness, poverty, and despair.

Don't Make Me Use This!!!!!

2009-08-31T19:58:00.000-07:00

As you may recall I have recently come under strong advisement by my father to purchase pepper spray...necessary arms for walking the Rafa at odd hours. After several empty promises to purchase and one actual lie about having purchased it- my safety-minded co-worker, Stacy, intervened on my behalf, and bought me some pepper spray.

JUST IN TIME as it turns out.

I was heading in from my evening walk with Rafa tonight only to be greeted by a mumbling, drunk, lunatic at my doorstep. I have no problem with having a few too many at dinner...it happens to the best of us. I DO, however, have a problem when that overindulgence leads one to believe that my front stoop is their home and that I am someone to whom they can speak crossly.

Rafa and I tried to ignore the loiterer but this guy was having NONE of it. He tried to ask me a question and persisted after I ignored him. I finally turned around to acknowledege him with my finger on the trigger ready to put liquid peppers right into his eyes if he pulled anything. He was speaking jibberish and I was in no mood to fight so I opted to cross the street and wait it out. But the creep FOLLOWED me. I then yanked on Rafa and pulled him toward the safety of a nearby restaurant. Fortunately, I am an in excellent physical shape and have no problem outrunning a staggering drunk guy.

From the safe harbor of the Belgian Cafe, I was able to call 911 (fool me once, bad guys...) and Philly's finest came right away and carted him off. If you ask me, he got off easy. Trust me - he did NOT want to mess with the business end of my pepper spray!!

Kitten and Cuervo

2009-08-25T11:45:00.000-07:00

It turns out I am not the only internet sensation among my group of friends. Move over wedding dancers, step aside prison Thriller re-enactments, make room for Kitten and Cuervo. Please view the youtube clip below. It is a few minutes long, but please resist the temptation to think you've got the idea after a minute or so. This performance must be seen in its entirety to be fully appreciated. There is a special treat waiting for the listener at around 1:50.

Now this is a judge-free zone and I am pretty sure I was alowed to drink soda, eat candy, stay up late, and watch R rated movies starting at the age of three... but there is something both jarring yet endearing about watching an impossibly cute three year old sing of Jose Cuervo, bar fights, and cowboy conquests.

For a glimpse into the background of this youtube starlet check out her dad's blog . You may remember, he was also the man who brought us Foxy's Tale and has once before launched Kitten to stardom

BOOOO BIRDS!!!

2009-08-14T06:17:00.000-07:00

I have only ever been the fan of one football team: The Philadelphia Eagles. Growing up, I don't think I realized there were other football teams...so great was the enthusiasm for the Iggles in my family. My father, upon moving to a remote mountaintop in Costa Rica drove 6 hours to the capital city to wait in line to get satellite TV so that he could follow his team from the middle of nowhere. Each conversation we have on the phone involves some discussion of the Eagles (what with politics and my love life being off limits for discussion). He recently expressed some dismay that I had not been "following the Eagles off-season moves very closely" and then went on to predict the Eagles will win the Superbowl this year (which they have never done) and that it was a safer bet than anything in the stock market. Sound advice.

The only problem with all of this?? I am no longer an EAGLES fan. This happened at about 10pm last night when I heard they signed that horrible, puppy-killing, sub-human beast Michael Vick. SOOO not ok. I actually feel sorry for Michael Vick he went to jail, he is broke, he needs a job. Whatever. You don't get to spend your millions orchestrating violent doggy-death camps and then go back to making millions. You should get the $12/hour or whatever they pay the person who cleans the cages at the city animal shelter. ughhhhh.

I have taught Rafa to sick balls whenever he sees a Michael Vick Eagles Jersey. Vick Fans: Consider yourselves warned.

photo courtesy of 13gb.com

With Love, Philadelphia

2009-08-10T10:42:00.000-07:00

Philadelphia has many well-known attractions: the liberty bell, the Art Museum, Independence Hall, and of course the Rocky Statue. People in search of a history filled getaway often travel to the City of Brotherly Love to experience first hand the place where the Constitution was signed (and to see how freakishly small James Madison was).

Unfortunately though, the history and wonder of Philadelphia are often overshadowed by its rather grim current situation. Like this...and the nicknames "Killadelphia" and "Philthadelphia" have done little to encourage people to pick my town as their vacation destination.

Well, the folks at gophila.com have had ENOUGH! They have launched a rather clever campaign to lure tourists to the city. Touting attractions such as out BYOBs, our World Champion Phillies, and our friendly gays. The campaign includes billboards and TV ads that are seriously funny and catchy. Now here's the problem: THEY ARE IN PHILADELPHIA!! I, a resident of Philadelphia, do not really need much in the way of persuading to take advantage of what my city has to offer. I am no marketing expert but it seems to me that the placement of these ads might be more effective if located in places that ARE NOT Philadelphia.

So as a courtesy to gophila.com and as a declaration of pride in my city I am sharing these efforts with you via the border crossing world wide webs!!

Come visit!!!

GrammarStar

2009-07-15T11:11:00.000-07:00

In case you haven't heard the news, the Great Recession has come to an end! Well it has if you work for Goldman Sachs anyway. I have spent the last couple days lamenting my lot in life and my unearned millions. "Why", I have questioned, did I choose a life of public service over a lucrative banking career (the fact that Goldman has never floated a 7 figure offer my way is neither here nor there). It is my understanding that Goldman has been able to end its recession by employing the best and brightest in the field of finance. Now here is where my "I'm gonna go work for Goldman" plan hits a major snag. NO ONE would call me the best or the brightest when it comes to finances. I like to think that I am pretty adept at addition, subtraction, and multiplication. I can even usually figure out the appropriate gratuity for a check in my head. But when it comes to things like long division, fractions, or managing my personal finances I am pretty much useless.

So realizing that finance is not where my skills lie, I was left to ask myself what am I truly good at? In what areas am I the best and the brightest? The answer I arrived at (or should I say the answer at which I arrived...) : GRAMMAR. My grammar pedigree is undeniable. I was the recipient of the prestigious Carlisle E. Snively Award for Excellence in English. My superior skills allowed me to pass out of 9th grade grammar. My sentence diagramming skills are known and revered the world over.

Now the tricky part...How can I parlay this skill into a life of private jets and multi-million dollar bonuses? Comments, suggestions, and consulting offers welcome.

No Vacancy

2009-07-09T07:56:00.000-07:00

Sincerest apologies for my absence. I don't even have a great reason for denying you regular insight to my impossibly exciting life. There has been lots of fun stuff going on but some not fun stuff (i.e. work) has kept me from sharing with you! I have been to the country, to the races (hopefully more on this later) and have transformed my 1 bedroom apt. into a boarding house of sorts.

My cousin Jenn is staying with me for two weeks while she works as my intern (that's right, not only am i NOT an intern...i HAVE an intern). She has been assiduously checking things of my to-do list at work while I made long overdue hair and doctor's appointments and tend to some vacation planning for 2010. If it weren't for the living arrangements I'd wish she could stay indefinitely...I am sure a solid internship such as this one would more than compensate for her not finishing high school. As for that living situation: COZY. I live in a one bedroom apartment which feels big enough for Rafa and me about 60% of the time. That percentage tends toward zero with an extra guest. We have inflated a queen sized air mattress in the middle of the living room which has turned that area into a quasi-moonbounce. This makes maneuvering in the space challenging but Rafa LOVES birthday-party feel of both the moonbounce and the slumber party guest (more faces to lick in the morning).

All in all, I think the experience is going to be a good one for all involved but it is very time consuming having to entertain a 17 year old so bear with me for the next week!!

STAY AWAY!!!

2009-06-17T11:38:00.000-07:00

Since Rafa entered my life I have ventured out in my neighborhood at hours previously unknown to me (before 7am and after 10pm). And as I have mentioned here , this has led to some interesting but rather disturbing encounters. Even after Rafa and I survived the naked dude, creepy encounters persisted. Enough to definitely make me leery of venturing out of my apartment at odd hours.

So, I relay these and other stories to my father over the phone last week. My father is not one to overreact. In fact, his response is typically so laid back some might mistake it for neglect or indifference. Apparently, though, telling your dad that creepy men are approaching you at night is enough to get a reaction. After a completely not kidding conversation about whether or not I would consider purchasing and carrying a gun on my walks, he settled for pepper spray.

He called the next week to follow up to see if I had purchased the agreed upon pepper spray (i had not....Wawa doesn't carry it FYI). In the intervening week, he'd had time to think up some alternative self-defense strategies for his pumpkin. Had I considered carrying a big, heavy umbrella with me, he asked. I explained to him the impracticality of walking a puppy while carrying a giant golf umbrella/weapon. (I kept to myself the other downside of looking like a total lunatic and thereby canceling out and cuteness Rafa adds to my image!). I promised him I would get the pepper spray ASAP.

While out walking Rafa the next day my phone rings again....Big B two days in a row (mind you he has now called me more in this month than the last 4 months combined).
CB: "Hi Dad".
BB: "Carly I have been thinking about your safety some more"
CB: "OK"
BB: "You carry your cell phone when you walk right"
CB: "Yep"
BB: "If that guy comes up to you again, I want you to pull out your cell phone and stick it right in his face and take a picture and say STAY AWAY!!!!"
CB: "OK Dad. Will do"

I kept to myself that I would have to pull out the cell phone, hit MY PIX wait for it to load, get the perp in sight, and then forcefully ask him to stand closer to the street light b/c this thing doesn't have a flash.

Here Comes the Sun. Or Not.

2009-06-11T06:18:00.000-07:00

One day it started raining, and it didn't quit for four months. We been through every kind of rain there is. Little bitty stingin' rain... and big ol' fat rain. Rain that flew in sideways. And sometimes rain even seemed to come straight up from underneath. - Forrest Gump

I have been thinking variations of that sentiment since what feels like forever. The calendar says that it is the middle of June. A cursory glance out the widow, however, says early March. WTF weather?!?! It feels like it has been gray and damp for eternity. And, frankly, I have had enough!

When I was in middle school I remeber reading this short story by Ray Bradbury. I can't remember what it was called but it told the story of a planet where it was only sunny once every 4 years (or something like that). Every other day it just rained or was dark (again, I can't remember the title so I may be taking some liberties with the details here). Well, on the day that it was going to be sunny, the kids at school were getting ready to go outside for recess and soak up enough glorious sunshine to get them through the next interminable rain spell. That was all well and good for everyone EXCEPT THE GIRL THEY LOCKED IN THE CLOSET.

I feel like that little girl right now, like I may never see sun again.

Bravo, Bravo!!

2009-06-05T14:20:00.000-07:00

Check out that botox!!

About a year ago I was sent a link to a website called Stuff White People Like. I, being white, found much I could relate to on this list such as #85 The Wire #53 Dogs and #87 Outdoor Performance Clothing.

I would like to focus this post on # 28 Not Having a TV. I have lived without a TV before and even when I have had one I don't really watch a lot of TV. When I do, it is usually tennis or reruns of Scrubs and House. Now there are a bunch of reasons....I am bad at remembering to do stuff (like watching a show on a specific day at a specific time) and b/c my attention span isn't really great enough for TV. Even when I try to watch TV I found myself doing other things like right now when I sat down to watch Barefoot Contessa but instead am writing this blog. Oh yeah, I also like feeling intellectually and morally superior when I can inject a smug "no I didn't see it...I don't really watch TV" into conversations about pop culture.

Whatever, that is all in the past now. NOW I have The Real Housewives of New Jersey. I don't care about books or blogs anymore. Bravo has given me Theresa, Dina, Caroline, Jaqueline, and Danielle. They are in a word: Brilliant. Unlike, Bravo's previous attempts at this Real Housewife genre in NYC and the OC, this one really captures the lifestyle of these women. And as a result, it is nothing short of addictive. Like crystal meth addictive. I was late for my birthday dinner because I could not pry my mesmerized body away from the TV.

I have seen a few minutes here and there of the other seasons and found them to be unwatchable. The women were horrible and above all phony. The entire episode featured these broads posturing and flaunting for the TV. NOT JERSEY though!!!! All that over the top stuff is real!! And theses women KNOW they are ridiculous. They are tan, they drive ridiculous cars, they have accents, and they pay CASH!!!

I am going to use my new DVR to make sure I don't miss an episode. I freaking love it.

Another Year, Another Birthday

2009-06-04T14:43:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday marked yet another anniversary of my birth. It was the 24th such anniversary (do not believe those slanderous haters on Facebook masquerading as "friends" so that they can malign me with their talk of "last year of your 20s" and other lies).

The day started a bit on the rough side. Rafa-bear and I went for our morning walk at about 5:45. Our route typically takes us just around the block...long enough to get the business done and get back in bed! On this morning we crossed the street in order to avoid the french fry land mine that is my neighborhood cafe after a Friday night (rafa bear has yet to learn that feasting on the buffet of street garbage in my hood does not really agree with his system). I digress...the move across the street turned out to be incredibly ill-fated. While rafa was sniffing around some grass I heard a man's voice. It being 5:45 on a saturday morning, it was very easy to hear. So I reflexively turn toward the voice and see a tall dude standing there, as irony would have it, in his BIRTHDAY SUIT shaking what his mama gave him. I screamed and yanked Rafa away toward the safety of our home. I alerted my neighbor who was outside and asked him to call 911. He didn't seem to get what all the fuss was about. THERE IS A NAKED MAN ON THE CORNER he seemed more amused that mortally threatened.

Anywho, the day was nothing but up from there!!! A trip to the gym, shopping for a birthday frock in Center City, a great dinner, and even better after dinner dancing with great friends. Nothing says 24 like bottle service and go-go dancers!!! Paparazi shots below (sorry, no photos from the morning walk):

What up cuz? what up gangsta??

I believe this the down low portion my Up High In the Middle Down Low signature move.

Seriously?

2009-05-29T06:01:00.000-07:00

A few days ago The Sean Sullivan decided it was time to make good on our blog crossfire promise. The topic of choice My Rafa (the tennis player not the puppy...there is no other side of the Rafa Puppy debate). As a courtesy, I was sent an advance copy of the proposed post. I will quickly recap it here since TSS fails to appreciate the beauty of word economy. He posits that Rafa is good maybe great but he is missing the oh so important X factor. He takes his stance further than our typical wine and whiskey fueled Rafa vs. Federererer debate. He comments not so much against his abilities as a tennis player but his abilities as a sports hero for the generations. He conspicuously makes no mention at all of his simian good looks...I guess some things are just untouchable. In short, my counter to his argument is a resounding: BOOOOOOO.

Four years ago, I was living with my family in NJ (yes this is a recurring theme of my 20s) and happened upon a 19 year old Rafa playing an early round match at the French Open. At the time, I was neither a tennis player nor fan. It just happened to be on TV. I was transfixed. The clam-digger wearing Spaniard had me totally spell bound. Not just with his tan body, awe-inspiring arms, and out of this world fashion sense...but with his game! He was into it! He was scrambling cross court hunting down every single ball. Corner to corner, if it was returned, he was going to chase it. Good shots elicited ferocious fist pumps and guttural yells of VAMOS!!! His desire to win was palpable. It was incredibly compelling and addictive. And that my friends, is how a tennis fan was formed. I watched the rest of that French open where he won his first slam title and rolled victoriously in the red clay of Roland Garros. Don't you tell me, Sean Sullivan, that he is no star!

All this before I learned of his compelling backstory. Never left Mallorca unlike so many young tennis stars who leave their families to go train. His uncle is his coach. The kid is NOT EVEN LEFT HANDED yet plays geniuously!! His game and his humble and honest sportsmanship has caused me to watch almost every slam match he has been in since 2005. I subscribed to the Tennis Channel and got DVR to watch this guy play!!

Let's, for a moment, consider one of the "Stars" you present as a counter to My Rafa. Tiger Woods??? Agreed, he is a great golfer...probably the best ever. But is is a TOTAL freaking snooze-fest. I mean talk about boring. I have never seen him throw a club, yell, curse and he certainly does not enter the course with anything resembling blood-lust for Mickelson. Much like my Rafa, he goes out there and plays his best game hoping to win... not hoping to destroy and embarrass his opponents. I for one, really appreciate and enjoy the fact that My Rafa seems to lack the affect that besieges so many professional athletes. He seems absolutely genuine in his desire to win and his gratitude and humility when he does.

He is also wayyyy more attractive than any of those other fools you mentions.

Advantage: Nadal.

Inexcusable and Indefensible

2009-05-22T05:55:00.000-07:00

I apologize for being so delinquent in getting this post up. I have big news to share (albeit belatedly) : IT'S A BOY!!!!

My months long search for a puppy to call my very own has come to an end. I've had to deal with allergic idiots and crazy dog people to get him but I was steadfast in my resolve and the pup is, at long last, here.

Unsurprisingly perhaps, his name is Rafa. My Rafa from Philly brings me even more joy than My Rafa from Mallorca. We are early to bed and early to rise and spend our time walking around the hood eating trash off the ground (Rafa) and sticking our hands down puppy throats to retrieve trash (Carly Pumpkin). He is universally a hit...adored by people and dogs alike (except for that homicidal Scottie at the dog park).

Like peas and carrots me and my rafa are...and for those of you wondering, he absolutely, unequivocally adores my dog voice.

Be Still My Beating Heart

2009-05-13T07:41:00.000-07:00

I used to be a faithful Idol watcher, texting in to support the likes of Kelly, Ruben, and Fantasia. Fantasia's "Summertime" made me cry and Kelly Clarkson's lyrics still guide me to this day. My allegiance to the show, however, has waned in recent years. But 2009 is the year of the Idol come back!!!! Tonight we find out who will be in the final and I am giddy with anticipation.
I am sure you all have been waiting with bated breath for me to weigh in on this topic. Here's my rundown of the contenders:

Adam Lambert: is a freak. I like him sometimes but generally I think he screams too much. And I hate scream-y music.

Danny Gokey: I do not like Danny Gokey. He can sing but he is boring. booo Gokey.

Kris Allen: Oh boy do I love me some Kris Allen. He is a better version of the Guy Who Sings Cover Songs (GWSCS) at the bar in college. Girls really love GWSCS and I was no exception. You with your moveable hair and your acoustic guitar. Watching KA's version of Heartless last night, I was transcended to 2002 and my senior year in college. I began wondering if he was going to be at the Alpha Delt late night.

The Idol version of The Guy Who Sings Covers Songs, though, seems to have some distinct improvements over the orginal (jackson rohm at my school). His failure to call out drink orders during his performances seems to suggest that he is not a full-blown alcoholic. His being married also might suggest that he is not teeming with college-town STDs. And finally, his career certainly appears to be on a better trajecotry than the guy who sold out Stadium (the bar...not an actual stadium) at Miami University.

I am really pulling for you Kris.

Summer Summer Summer Time

2009-04-28T07:19:00.000-07:00

Check out all that nature growing!!

The past few days in Philadelphia have been less about crisp spring days familiar to late april and more about the mid-90s blazing sunshine of late July. Whatever, I will take hot and sunny over cold and grey any day. The onset of this weather meant a return to doing everything outside. Trading in the gym for my bike and the sofa for my garden.

This weekend I took my bike out for its inaugural spin of the season (and survived...panting and sore...but I survived) and toiled like a little bee in my garden. The transformation of urban dump into urban oasis does not come easily. While in the country this weekend I stopped by the garden store and stocked up on all kinds of plants (well really only the kinds that grow in the shade). I then spent most of Sunday toiling in the earth. I was sweating and covered in dirt but was unflinching in my committment to bring the change we need to my little patio. After all the plants were in the ground I grabbed my LL Bean canvas, marched down to Whole Foods, and with the air of smug superiority befitting someone who spent all day greening her home with the the dirty skin to prove it, shopped for some food for dinner. The evening wrapped up with friends, fish on the grill, and some chilled rose! not bad.

Keep on Keepin On

2009-04-21T18:17:00.000-07:00

It took the first 25 years of my life before I could write this statement honestly: I like running. This was not always the case, in fact wasn't even close to the case for most of my life. But as I have mentioned on this blog before, I really kind of dig it now. Gets me outside, gets me moving, gets the good ju ju flowing. This, however, does NOT apply to running on a treadmill....or so I thought until recently.

My natural gait tends to be somewhat jerky and more than just a little duck-footed. Not exactly a stride well-suited to the NARROW confines and steady speed of a treadmill. But lately I have been giving that long-overlooked machine at the gym a chance. And I kind of like it! I have to listen to my ipod to combat the boredom (i am earbud free when I run outside). I also have to stay focused on looking straight ahead. My natural tendency to try and peep everything that is going on at the gym leaves me feeling nauseous and dangerously close to tripping when I am on the treadmill. But the ability to just run for 30 minutes with no stoplights or exhaust fumes offers its own special charm.

Overall the treadmill gets 3 out of 5 stars!!

April Showers Bring May Flowers

2009-04-20T17:55:00.000-07:00

Debris and Despair

This past weekend in Philadelphia was the epitome of spring. The thermometer hit 70 degrees and all activities were moved outdoors. Drinking, eating, exercising, and just sitting are all more enjoyable when done outside on the first REAL spring day of the year. I myself had 2 dinners and slightly more than 2 glasses of wine outside.

It was not all play though. I took advantage of the warm weather to take on some serious spring cleaning. I moved into my current apartment because it was close to work, allowed dogs (more on that soon hopefully), and had access to a private patio. Well, apparently the prior tenants did not place as a high a value on outdoor space as I do....this thing was a dump. A hot mess under all sorts of debris and overgrowth of plants and leaves. I, though, was fearless in the face of such a challenge. With a rake, some work gloves, hours of HGTV in my memory, and a triumphant spirit I tackled that outdoor monstrosity head on. I cleared, I swept, I shoveled, I planted. I toiled for hours and ended the day feeling exhausted and satisfied. Even today's shift in weather from spring back to soggy cold was not enough to dampen my spirit. I comforted myself knowing that those new little plants of mine would be happy for the drink!

It still needs a little in the way of greenery but I think I am well on my way to refined outdoor city living!

AFTER
PS I would welcome suggestions of plants that can grow without a ton of light!

Tweet Tweet

2009-04-15T07:54:00.000-07:00

I am not sure if writing the post I am about to write makes me incredibly tech-savvy or a gigantic loser with far too much time on her hands. But I felt I needed to join the public debate on the new facebook layout. That's right, I am blogging about facebook being too much like Twitter.

When FB first rolled out the new format it appeared that everyone was quite up in arms. To be honest, though, I didn't even notice. Everyone said Facebook should stop trying to be Twitter and just be happy being Facebook...uhhh ok, whatever that means.

But now I get it!

So,, the new FB layout with its constant stream of updates seeks to keep me informed with up to the second information about my "friends". Well one of my "friends"is this kid I went to middle school who was nice and nerdy when he was 11 but is now a huge tool whose status updates invariably make mention of his mixed marshall arts workouts. He is also fond of posting pictures of his tattoos and him and his "boyz" standing in front of cars. In between his grueling workout and photoshoot schedule he managages, somehow, to find the time to take EVERY FLIPPING FACEBOOK QUIZ IN EXISTANCE. I know what city he would be, what animal, even what sex position he would be. I can not ESCAPE him. FB has me trapped in this kid's world! I used to find his occasional updates really amusing but the incessant stream has made me numb and annoyed.

I hate you new facebook.

This Desert Life, This High Life

2009-04-07T17:43:00.000-07:00

I am back from a long weekend of desert sun, friends, and nuptials. The setting was beautiful, the bride was stunning and there are few things I like more than spending time with the girls (and guys) of Kaleidoscope.

The Desert (as those in the know call it) is an interesting place. It is unbelievably pretty: clear blue skies, bright sunshine, palm trees and spectacularly unexpected mountains shooting out of the ground. It is also a town home to Bob Hope Highway, Dinah Shore Way, and the Sonny Bono Cocourse at the airport. Juxtaposed with the gorgeous natural setting are some interesting man made touches: big boobs, big cars, big hair, and big pools in the middle of the desert.

The Kaleidoscope crew also added their own touches to the desert. There were ninjas, pizza parties, pool parties, weddings, and Little Lynch dressed as a Corona-bound Lime.

An undeniably great time.

Like Night and Day

2009-03-31T06:52:00.001-07:00

The best I could do, I might not be ready for TMZ just yet

This past weekend has been a study in contrasts. On Saturday night, I met up with some old friends from the town I grew up in. Whoa. Lots has changed. I spent the evening in smoke filled bars and swung by karaoke night at the local bowling alley. Tagging along for part of the evening was an acquaintance of my old friend who goes by the name Balls. It should surprise no one that Balls was wearing baggy jeans, white t-shirt, and had a rap sheet thicker than the phone book. Though I did not get to bowl, I did play a very successful round of spot that mullet. Overall it made me pretty flipping happy that I never, ever have to go there again.

I pleaded with my friend to flee early on Sunday morning back to the safe and familiar confines of Philadelphia (calling Philadelphia safe should offer a sense of the misery experienced in Pottstown). It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon so my buddy Luke and I grabbed a seat outside at Parc (no bowling or karaoke). Facing out toward Rittenhouse square, we people watched and snacked on mussles, salad, and wine. Unfortunately, Balls couldn't make it but we did have Chris Matthews and Carson Kressley(check out the paparazi shot I snapped...I also did what any classy gal would and emailed the local gossip reporter)!

A.O. Scott Finally Gets It Right

2009-03-20T07:13:00.000-07:00

Today is the first day of Spring. Although, it was snowing a touch this morning my excitement has not lessened. I am ready to retire my coats and spend longer outdoors than just the time it takes to walk, shivering, to and from work. I am looking forward to an end to this workweek and a sunshine filled weekend in the country.

I can think of no better way to get things started than spending Friday evening with my gal J. Ro. Jules has a new movie out tonight, and while I love all of her films, this one was apparently enough to make even that insufferable A.O. Scott crack a smile. A little dose of romance and espionage in the city and then to the country for food, family, and dogs!

Stay tuned for the review!

Live and Learn

2009-03-16T16:10:00.000-07:00

Over the last several months I have spent time socially with a fella from New York City. In addition to being geographically undesirable he was allergic to a myriad of things. Most importantly, dogs. As my wise uncle Cheetah said upon learning of this disability "it's a non-starter. don't bother". Well, I unwisely did not heed the Little Cheetah's advice and found myself spending more time on a bus that I am comfortable with and postponing my search for dog.

Well I have finally come to my senses and gotten my priorities in order. See ya later sneezer-boy and helllllo little puppy. The search for a furry companion has begun anew!

Please feel free to send me any small to medium sized adorable pooches you may come across.

Peace, love, and puppies.

You've Gotta Play to Win *

2009-03-04T06:14:00.001-08:00

A few years back I was working in DC as somewhat of an indentured servant. I worked insane hours for a pittance of a salary and was forced to stick around by the promise of a year end bonus which would enable me to pay the debt I'd accrued during the year just to maintain my lifestyle. This lifestyle consisted of an apartment I could NOT afford and way too many ghetto fabulous nights out (nights of revelry following payday...pretty sure that line is going to bar me from ever holding public office).

I searched for a way out. Yes, I tried the conventional routes of searching for a new job and contemplating a move to the islands. But I knew there was something else, a promise of something more. Powerball.

I passed my time thinking of how I would spend my riches, what car I would have, who I would give a million to, where I would go on vacation. I realize these are not uncommon fantasies but I checked hotel rates and availability. I was committed. I signed up for the Powerball emails. Just the promise of a multi-million dollar windfall and the happiness it would bring seemed almost enough...and the chance that maybe next time they would be MY numbers.

In the last two days, 2 separate winning tickets for millions and millions of the rich stuff have been sold outside of Philadelphia. Makes me think it's time to get back in the game....

* The original post failed to acknowledge my Powerball teammate Chrissie Walsh. Ms. Walsh has been referenced in other posts but was regretfully ommitted from this one. Please let the record reflect that she not only purchased tickets and agreed to share her winnings, she also helped me research plastic surgeons and was going to be my roommate at the Four Seasons during recovery from our lotto-financed Extreme Makeover. My apologies.

Carly Couch Philadelphia

2009-03-03T07:35:00.000-08:00

This weekend was full of friends, food, wine, history, fun, and gem-colored coats. By Sunday, though, I was pretty much useless. Confronted with a day on the couch and a stubborn state of conciousness, I had to do some serious entertainment planning. After scanning the 100 channels I receive and coming up empty handed, I turned to trusty On Demand. Oddly, this service was populated with films I had never heard of or with unappealing titles (and I just watched Baby Mama last week...wonderful). I was tempted by Meryl Streep and pretty shots of Greece but didn't think my head was quite ready for 2 hours of Abba hits, so Mama Mia! was ruled out.

I hesitantly pulled the trigger on Vicky Christina Barcelona.

Now, I don't really like these artsy films in general. And I know from experience I don't care for Woody Allen movies (Matchpoint? kill me.). But for some reason I was intrigued. Although it was off to a slow start I really got into it! It was full of pretty people and pretty places and essentially was like a thinking-person's rom-com! Smart and satisfying!! Penelope Cruz was great and in my opinion deserving of that Oscar (though I only saw one of her competitors: Marissa Tomei in The Wrestler whose performance I could not fairly judge b/c I hated every moment I was in that theater watching that offensive movie).

Four Stars!

Dispatches from Costa

2009-02-16T15:49:00.000-08:00

Dora the Explorer

It's been so long, I hardly know where to begin! Well, since most of my recent absence was due to a week-long trip to Costa Rica, I suppose I'll start there. It was a week of adventure, relaxation, and LOADS of family time. Some highlights are below:

ADVENTURE ON THE HIGH SEAS

A few days into my Costa Rican holiday, my father suggests that we go on a little fishing trip. Sea, Sun, catching things that I could later eat....it all sounded GREAT to me. The morning was perfect, sunny and warm. However, the calm of the morning belied the dangers I would soon face!

They day went roughly like this. Captain Bob and I (with the help of skipper Bing) scooted off shore approximately 12 miles searching for mahi mahi or marlin. I had visions of a delicious grilled dinner and possibly catching something big enough to stuff and mount above my bed (the fellas love a sporty chick). Unfortunately for us the fish were a little too sneaky that day and were able to avoid all 12 of the lines we had in the water. After about and hour of pleasant circling we headed in.

It was almost at this exact moment that the winds decided to make their presence known. At first it was great fun bouncing over waves. I sat in the front of the boat and yelled "wheeee" everytime we hit one big enough to momentarily eject me from my seat. What started as a few cheap thrills quickly turned to straight nautical distress. There were 10 foot swells, 50 MPH winds (captain bob's estimation), and white-caps as far as I could see. I began singing the Gilligan's Island theme song in my head.

As I was clutching on to the side of the boat for dear life, my father leaned around to ask if his eldest (and dare I say favorite) daugter was doing ok. I gave him the thumbs up (I didn't actually think I was going to die and indicating any fear would have brought on mockery I was not prepared to deal with). He acknowleged the thumbs up and said "Good, wanna see if you can get some photos of this!!". Uhhhhh sure dad, let me just release the grip that is keeping me inside the boat as opposed to the watery grave below and capture a few candids.

CORTEZ 1, CARLY 0

When I lived in Germantown there was a dog next door named Conrad. Poor Conrad was kept outside on my neighbor's porch in all manner of inclement weather. Each evening when I would come home Conrad would poke his little (ok, rather large) snout through the fence to say hello. I always gave Conrad a large biscuit and a warm greeting. Sometimes, I would give Conrad a special treat and slide him over some leftovers from dinner. One evening I gave Conrad a delicious lamb chop. I placed it down for him on his side of the fence and went to give him a "Good Boy Conrad" pat on the head. At this point, Conrad forgot all of his neighborly graces and tried to devour my hand.

Lesson learned: do not pet unknown pooches on the head when delicious treats are placed before them.

Fast forward: Costa 2009.

I was taking a friendly photo shoot of my favorite Latin pooch Cortez. To compliment him on some really excellent shots (see above) I went to pat him on the head to say "Bueno Pero Cortez". He then went in to finish what Conrad had started and had my whole hand in his mouth in a split second. CHOMP!!

Primitive first-aid was immediately administered: Bactine. Bandage. WINE. allllll better

Peace out.

2009-01-30T06:05:00.000-08:00

I am taking a much anticipated hiatus from cubes, winter, and Philly. Tomorrow morning I am setting out for a week of sun, sand, waves, family, and one very large Mastiff in Costa Rica. There will be no hairdryers, makeup or email. There will be lots of reading, beaching, and cervesas.

My daily commute down filthy streets will be replaced with a bumping 4-wheeler ride to the beach. Days filled with powerpoint, desk chairs, and inane internet searches will be forgone in favor of leisurely breakfasts, surfing, and mucho time laying horizontal on a beach doing nothing much at all.

Pura Vida kids!!!!

Que Guapo!

2009-01-22T16:40:00.000-08:00

Look how handsome he is in sleeves!! Stupid Australia and their stupid time zone are making it difficult for me to watch my Rafa, luckily there are pictures aplenty on the internets!

That is all.

At Last

2009-01-21T16:44:00.000-08:00

I have really tried to stay away from political discussions here. It's not that I don't like engaging in them (I do) it's just that they can tend to be kind of a downer and they are rarely funny (especially since Sarah Palin has been evicted from the limelight). But I can't resist. I have a gigantic crush on the First Family. The political policies of the Obama administration tend to align pretty solidly with my own beliefs, but that is really secondary here.

I am IN LOVE with a woman who dresses her two girls in CrewCuts for the inauguration. Sealing J.Crew's place in American history (I'd like to think I've played a not insignificant role in that as well). The first lady herself even sported some leather gloves made by J.Crew to cradle Lincoln's bible beneath her husband's hand.

Just when I thought my admiration for this couple and their family had reached it's zenith... I come to learn that they had my idol and role model Beyonce (makes me wonder if that little Sasha Obama's middle name might be Fierce) sing At Last for their first dance. Although I enjoyed Obama's inaugural address, the site of those two dancing together to my girl B brought me to tears. Yes We Can.
When this family finally gets that puppy, I may just need to move in.

The Wrestler

2009-01-19T18:53:00.000-08:00

I know a lot of people turn to this site for insightful film reviews and reliable recommendations. Knowing the tremendous responsibility I bear, I want to talk to you about "The Wrestler". Despite Marissa Tomei's appearance as a stripper with a heart of gold, this movie isn't the heart-warming picture I was hoping for. (I have had to make compromises in my film selections lately...what with the Oscars coming up it is very difficult for the good movies to get screen time. I look forward to this drought ending 2/6/09 ).

Last week, by chance, I was awake to catch the Late Show with Jay Leno. Jay's guest that night was a dried-up, hopeless, and frankly a little bit creepy Mickey Rourke. Ostensibly, Mr. Rourke was there to plug his film but his years in therapy would not allow the conversation to proceed so smoothly. I mean this guy has had it ROUGH. He has been out of work as an actor and unable to find work in any field including construction (see, the recession really is affecting everyone). He tells Jay that a good therapist and a priest have helped him through these times. Given this lead in it really is no one's fault but my own that I sat through 2 hours of depression, heartbreak, and hopelessness.

Now this review is not a critique on Rourke's performance, because I don't think there is anyone who knows down and out better than that guy. But it was too sad and there was too much wrestling.

2 stars out of 5.
This film contains nudity, language, gratuitous gore involving a staple gun, and nothing even resembling a happy ending.

A Tree Grows in Fairmount

2008-12-30T06:20:00.000-08:00

2009 is going to be a year of growth and life for me. And Yesterday I got a jumpstart on my New Year's goals and embarked on what I know will be a wonderful and transformative experience. I am going to bring life into this world: I am going to grow a tree. Several trees actually. They will start as small little seedlings in my apartment. With proper love, care, and water they will grow into full-blown trees like you might find in nature!

The particular tree I am growing is called Solanum Quitoense it has a beautiful purple star shaped flower and produces a delcious fruit called the Lulo...a Costa Rican specialty!! I will be testing several methods for growing my lulos. I will start one batch from seeds ordered from the Internets, another batch from baby Lulo plants (also ordered on the Internets), and a final batch from seeds that I intend to smuggle home from my upcoming trip to Costa.

Though the seeds have yet to arrive and these bad boys take a solid six months to grow, I already have visions of me in a big hat with a water can out on my patio tending to my crops. And by my calculations I will be stepping out back to pick fresh lulos for breakfast by July!

Stay tuned for Lulo updates!!

Candy House 08

2008-12-04T13:00:00.001-08:00

This creed governs the work my family does every year on the day after Thanksgiving. It is a holiday tradition that rivals anything Martha Stewart can come up with. It is: Candy Houses. But much like any endeavor my family takes, it is done with our own unique style. For one, we can not be bothered with the architectural limitations of standard gingerbread so we, instead, rely on meticulously constructed cardboard frames (as pictured in the "before" photo).

Despite the Better Homes and Gardens appearances of our fine holiday tradition, competition is what drives us to confection perfection. Where some families have warmth, we have acerbic wit. Where other families have support and tenderness we have cut throat competition. Where some families have "at least we're all together" we have I will hurt you if you don't give me back that pez.

Though there was no official judging of the candy houses this year. I had the best house. YAY! I love winning!!!!!

Before
A Work in Progress

The Winning House (oh, and my teammate alex)
The Magical Candy City

Final Dispatch from the Country

2008-12-04T09:13:00.000-08:00

Sorry for the dearth of posts lately. I have been frantically readying to move out of the country and re-enter both the city and independent adulthood. As you might imagine, this is a very time consuming process. There are walls to be painted, bags to be packed, and of course U-Hauls to rented. It will be a done deal come Saturday and then I will be able to bring everyone up to speed on the many exciting things that have been going on in my life.

Until then, I will be enjoying one last night in the country filled with dogs, food, family members.

22

2008-11-24T12:00:00.000-08:00

There have been a few times in my life when I have spent extended periods of time with 22 year olds. The first came when I was 22. I was living in DC and unconcerned with career advancement. I spent most evenings drinking until things were blurry surrounded by a happy band of fellow 22 year olds. I worked 12 hour days hungover and once arrived to work wearing an ill-fitting sweatsuit which caused the receptionist to confuse me with the cleaning lady.

The opportunity to hang out with 22 year olds came again when I was 25. I was working on a campaign and spent easily 20 hours a day with 2, 22 year olds. I again worked incredibly long hours on precious little sleep and had my fair share of hangovers. It was during this time that I remembered just how good I am at flip cup.

This weekend I, once again, had the opportunity to share the company of 22 year olds. This time it was at dinner in NYC. Said 22 year olds were of the blonde, seniors at the University of Southern California variety. This time though I was not so easily able to join the pack. Instead I was seated firmly on the grown-up side of the table with 3, 30 somethings (one of whom is dating one of the 22 year olds). It was at this end of the table that I engaged (or rather sat silently through) a conversation about credit default swaps and how positively annoying it is when people call them CDSs. At the other end of the table (and a world away) were the 22 year olds. Not an entree to be had between them (though one did risk shame and ostracization and ordered a salad). Though actual dinner was not to be had at this outing there were shots to be ordered...to the table. Fearing crossing to the dark side of 30 and momentarily forgetting how much i hate shots, i was goaded into sucking down straight vodka.

By comparison, 30 can't be that bad.

White Zin

2008-11-19T05:51:00.000-08:00

White Zin is underappreciated and ridiculed by most wine drinkers (at least those under the age of 80 and living outside the confines of a trailer park...though there is nothing wrong with being old or living in a trailer). But I think we can all remember a time when White Zin in all of its rosy glory has brought us happiness, comfort, and good times. Its sort of like Green Eggs in Ham: "I will drink it from a box, I will drink it from a jug".

My most memorable experience with White Zin came by chance when I was seated next to a soon to be friend on a flight to vegas. Dreading both the flight and my final destination, I ordered up a drink just as soon as was permissible. Finding there was no Chardonnay or other white wine, my seat mate and I hardly hesitated before ordering up a little bottle of the pink stuff. We, in fact, kept ordering them until there were no more little bottles of the pink stuff on the plane. And that kids, is how a friendship was formed.

I was reminded of this while at dinner last night at a cozy Italian BYOB. Well it was cozy until the entire Penn basketball team rolled in, each with a date carrying card board boxes filled with wine. Not your average liter bottles either. Giant jugs of White Zin placed at the ends of each table. It was going to be a good night for them. My initial warmness toward them faded though when they started chanting each players name (remember, cozy Italian restaurant). Much like at the premiere of Mean Girls I was forced to intervene, tapping the young gentleman behind me on the shoulder and saying "dude, everyone knows his name is Larry now. shhhhhhhh". real cool.

Two Adults and One Student

2008-11-16T07:24:00.000-08:00

That's what the teenaged ticket window dude said when my uncle went to buy three tickets for Role Models. I knew family date night was off to a great start. The joy of being taken for a student was enough to erase any sadness I felt about going to the movies with my aunt and uncle on a Saturday night in New Jersey.

Role models won out over Quantum of Solace after a friend of mine had this to say about the latest Bond film "I am not sure if the lack of any real drama in the movie made it boring or beautiful"...uhh pass, Role Models it is.

Role Models with its base humor and cheap laughs once again proved that the New York Times should no longer be allowed to review movies. That liberal, elitist rag has no clue what is entertaining to real, main street, Americans.

You might remember it was that hateful A.O. Scott, in the employ of the New York Times, who panned 27 Dresses (a perfectly lovely film) and then sent me into the 2 hours of torture that was Don't Mess with the Zohan. Well this time it was Scott's similarly out of touch colleague Stephen Holden who tried to dissuade me from a night of real laughs by calling Role Models "the newest entry in the increasingly worn-out 'boys will be babies until they are forced to grow up' school of arrested-development comedies".

Turns out, 'boys being babies" is really f-ing funny sometimes. What part of a using ambien as an aphrodisiac and endless jokes about boobies and other lady parts isn't funny? Loosen up New York Times.

Date weekend with my aunt and uncle continues this evening with a romantic dinner at a lovely country restaurant. Just the three of us.

Damn You Aaron Sorkin

2008-11-12T07:41:00.000-08:00

I settled in for my return flight from Chicago on Monday, armed with my laptop and Season 2 of the West Wing to help me through the flight. The West Wing Episodes are kind of like Julia Roberts movies for me, I have seen them all many times but they still haven't lost their punch! I arrived to the airport early and was looking forward to catching an episode before boarding.

To set the scene, the terminal was quite crowded (I had no idea so many people get to the airport with so much time to spare). The only seats available were the ones painted bright red and clearly marked and reserved for "Passengers Needing Special Assistance". There was an open bank of 4 of these seats with not a single person in them. So, I planted myself in the end seat, opened up my laptop, and told myself I could just get up if someone needing special assistance seating arrived. I could feel the eyes on me. The scorn and disapproval of my fellow traveler's based both on their disbelief that I would deprive a Special Assistance person a seat and that they had not been bold or clever enough to sit there first and were now seated next to the eleven year old restlessly rocking back and forth while playing his PSP.

Ultimately, the passengers in F8 broke me. I cracked. After having lost the pyschological test of wills I settled to the floor, precariously perched upon my overstuffed carry-on.

It is from the floor that I watched 2 gunmen try to shoot and kill President Bartlett. It was in a huddled mass at foot-level that I noticeably sobbed and cried as Mr. Sorkin recounted with wit and heart how that happy group of fast-talking politicos met back in New Hampshire to get "the real thing" elected. Once again, Mr. Sorkin reduced me to a tearful mess.

Puppy Porn.

2008-11-07T12:02:00.001-08:00

I frequently check the links that people post on their gchat sites. More often than not, (given my nerdy friends) the best I can hope for by following these links is a thoughtful editorial or some clever dig at a republican. But given the many hours I have to spend in front of a computer I click on them anyway. Thanks to Colleen, all of that changed today.

Not since Christian the Lion has something so thoroughly warmed my heart. It's like a little gift waiting for me inside my computer to distract and transport me from a world of cubicles and fluorescent lights into puppy heaven.

Happy Halloween.

2008-11-03T11:56:00.001-08:00

This weekend I missed out on the Phillies mayhem here to celebrate Halloween in NYC. Despite a terrific suggestion to go as my male twin Cole Hamels, party dress code requirements dictated that I dress up as a pirate.

What they say about NYC is true, they really do have everything there. My co-pirate and I were able to cobble together a complete pirate outfit in less than one hour, not stepping foot in an actual costume shop. Due to limited resources and options and following modern halloween custom, our outfits ended up being some sort of cross between pirate and prostitute. My pirate skirt, for example, was a random piece of red fabric dug up from the closet and secured around my waist with 2 safety pins. It barely stood up to a mild breeze and certainly would not have been sea-worthy.

Dressed as sea sluts, we ventured to Brooklyn to partake in the pirate festivities planned for the evening. There were good costumes, great wine, and an impromptu (and in retrospect ill-advised) rum tasting.

Argh.

Cole vs. Carly

2008-10-28T16:03:00.000-07:00

The other day at work the dude who sits in the cube behind me (you know, the one who loves oBAMa, all things American Idol, and most recently the Phillies) asked me whether or not anyone had ever told me that I look like Cole Hamels. I looked at him quizzically (as I often do) and was ready to dismiss the question as crazy talk. I responded in the negative yet he persisted "No, for real, like, he could be your brother or something. Seriously, where were you born? You born in San Diego?".

Turns out crazy cube dude had led off what would be a string of people telling me how much I look like Cole Hamels and wondering if we were of relation.

Not trusting the mirror, I looked into the photo archives to see if there was a likeness. To my dismay, I am no longer baffled by these questions. I look like a dude. Judge for yourself:

Cole Hamels in a dress?

Carly Pumpkin in a Phillies costume?

Maybe if more than 7 people read my blog I could get tickets to the world series or at least be featured on the local news.

Race update

2008-10-28T15:36:00.000-07:00

I know you all have been waiting with bated breath to hear how the race went last weekend so I am here to report that it could not have gone better. I finished WELL under the one hour mark and positively SMOKED a 75 year old arthritic woman right before the finish line. More importantly, a good time was had by all and I was able to celebrate my victory with a bloody mary.

Below you will find some highlights. My race partner/future accomplished photographer captured some truly spectacular action shots. Please note the look of utter exertion on my face, races are no joke.

Which one of these is not like the others? That's me entering stage right after and abrupt U-Turn to run a few paces with the leaders. Those guys aren't that fast.

If you like 5Ks put your hands up.

Nick and I off to a solid start. Look at how we are breaking away from that sickly looking child. Taking an early lead was key to our race strategy.

Taking some time to take in the autumnal displays. That's me showing some love to a scarecrow perched mightily upon that giant mailbox.

Today I became a true Democrat.

2008-10-23T05:58:00.001-07:00

I donated to NPR.

As I have mentioned in previous posts I have a committed relationship to NPR. We start our days together most every morning. I often check in with NPR throughout the day just to see what's new. But like most relationships, it could not stay casual forever. NPR, feeling some level of insecurity I imagine, had begun entreating me to define our relationship in more concrete terms. NPR demadned that I quantify my love and committment. So in order to make NPR happy and more importantly to get it to shut up and stop shilling for my dollars instead of giving me "Marketplace"; I solidified my committment and pledged my support.

I think this completes my repentance for voting for W. in 2000.

You might not believe this, but i can run like the wind blows

2008-10-19T13:42:00.000-07:00

The above statement is perhaps a bit hyperbolic. Although I will say things like "I went for a run this morning" or "I am going to go for a run", the more appropriate (read: truthful) phrase is probably "I am going to go out for a brisk waddle later". Though I am not fast and really can't run that far, running is one of my favorite physical activities. It is good for all sorts of things like preventing me from becoming a contestant on the Biggest Loser, clearing my head, and getting me outside. Here in the country I have been running quite a bit, so much easier when there are not homeless people in your path and the dogs are an added bonus...often playing the role of personal trainer and glaring at me when I lag too far behind.

Next weekend I am taking my running show on the road to Delaware. Technically, I will be running in a race. Please do not let that title give you any ideas about my speed or visions of me triumphantly bursting through the finish lane. Usain (not hussein) Bolt I am not. In fact, I run not one second faster during a race than I do on a casual sunday run. The last race I entered I finished well behind a 70 year old dude though comfortably ahead of a pudgy middle-aged woman with a bandaged ankle. Added bonus of this run is that I will be pushing my physical limits for a cause, check it out (and DONATE if you are feeling so virtuous).

Baseball and such

2008-10-14T08:08:00.000-07:00

Driving into work this morning my friends on NPR told me that it looks like the Phillies might make it to the world series! I have to say this kind of snuck up on me! What with the global financial crisis and my not liking baseball that much I hadn't realized that Philadelphia (with its history of crushing sports defeats) was about to get another shot at glory.

As anyone in Philadelphia knows, the city is championship-starved. We have professional teams in all the major sports and not a single championship in ANY of them in over 20 years (I realize the Philadelphia Soul just won, but I am leaving them out of this...at least until Bon Jovi follows through on that free concert promise). The last time the Phillies even had a shot at the title, I was still wearing head gear to bed at night (i.e. the good old days).

I am really excited for the Phillies and for Philadelphia. When I was maybe 3 or 4 I remember I had a Philly Phanatic birthday cake... so I can say with confidence that, although my dedication may have waned recently, I am a longtime Phan!

Update from Cube World

2008-10-06T11:50:00.001-07:00

The fellow in the cube behind me...you may remember him for his love of cell phone tunes and American idol...is currently asleep at his desk. Dressed in his brighly colored zoot suit and bright white basketball sneakers, he is in full recline position in his chair. snoozing.

If only I could find a way to tent my cube, I bet I would really enjoy an afternoon siesta.

I hope he isn't dead.

Feel the Burn

2008-10-02T16:43:00.000-07:00

When I was in college one of the soundtracks that marked my senior year was a mix CD distributed by a local DJ auspiciously named DJ Toad. The Toad CD was perfect in its versatility. We put it on after class for drinks on the porch swing. The same tracks could then carry us through to getting ready and would be there waiting for us when we stumbled (or ran) home seeing double and speaking at unacceptable volume levels. One could argue that this is the preferred state to listen to J.Lo and Ja Rule duets.

I thought of the perfection and versatility of the Toad mix recently when trying to compile a new workout mix. Of course, now, a mix is really an iTunes playlist, but the same challenges remain. It has to be something that can fit a variety of occasions (the days you feel great about working out AND the days that it is a true battle to get yourself through the doors of the gym). It also needs to stand up to repeated playing without losing any of its potency. The perfect workout mix is up there with a great pair of jeans or a delicious wine under $20...essential and basic but really tough to come by.

So here is my latest incarnation:

This playlist will have to last me awhile...I just found out TI won't be making anymore hits for about 12 months while he serves out his jail term stemming from weapons violations...

JK

2008-09-30T13:16:00.000-07:00

Ummm, please disregard the last post. I will be in the country until further (and hopefully final) notice.

9.

2008-09-29T07:19:00.000-07:00

This weekend I found myslef a little pumpkin patch in the city. It is small but nice and in a great hood. Anyway, big apts are so 2007, everyone knows that in this time of economic and environmental crisis small spaces are the way to go.

The discovery of this new pied a terre also signals the approach of move #9!! I wonder if there is "Frequent Mover" card offered by UHaul that I could get in on? Or maybe they would like to feature me in their ad campaign. I could do for UHaul what Regis has done for Sweet N Low: "Yeah some people say moving sucks and is a major pain...not me. I love UHaul!!"

In addition to meeting my requirements of having a dishwasher and laundry in the building. The new patch also allows dogs! And so begins the search for a commensurately sized pooch to be my new roommate in my petite digs!

Fannie, Freddie, and Twitter

2008-09-26T18:30:00.000-07:00

Ummm, what the hell is Twitter? I know that I am not what most would call an "early adopter" but I facebook, gchat, AIM, and helllloooo....I am a blogger! I still, however, have no flipping clue what the Twitter is though. My 52 year old aunt, however, is ALL about it. Between sips of wine and screaming obscenities at John McCain on TV she is twittering through the debate!

I, feeling the need to compete and prove that I am "with it", have pulled out the ol' macdaddy to blog about her activities. My uncle is remaining faithful to his Debate Drinking Game...too busy to blog or twitter!

PS: Is Palin for reals. Her interviews are AWKWAAAAAAAAARD
PPS: I thank you all for checking back to the carly pumpkin blog despite the "recent suspension", as I am sure you can understand there was a financial CRISIS I had to handle.

8.

2008-09-19T05:49:00.000-07:00

8 is the number of times I have moved since I graduated college 6 years ago. Putting my economics degree to use, that comes out to about 1.33 moves a year. I have lived in studios, on couches, fancy apts, and have been a squatter with family members. When I moved from DC I remarked, with some disappointment, that my entire life fit into the smallest truck Uhaul had to offer with room to spare.

I have since upgraded to the next level of Uhaul and it was pretty flipping full...not nearly as exciting as I might have expected. I expect move number 9 to take place sooner rather than later but until them i will happily blogging from my country home!

adios

2008-09-08T06:44:00.000-07:00

I realize you all may be tired of reading posts about Rafa...funny thing is, I am not even close to tired of writing about him. Yesterday I returned home just in time to watch the remainder of his rain delayed semi-final match against Andy Murray. It was a sad showing and ultimately my rafa was unable to pull it off (maybe i wasn't cheering loudly enough, who knows). That loss marked the end of what has been a phenomenal tennis season for my amigo who is now numero uno.

let's be honest, I wrote this post so I could use this picture and provide you all with this link: http://nymag.com/fashion/08/fall/49256/ (please ignore the ridiculous title of the article).

Whoa.

2008-09-04T07:09:00.000-07:00

This may not seem like such a feat to many people but for me I feel liked I just cracked a top-secret code. I got my AIM contacts to appear in my gchat!!! This is one of those times when technology just seems like magic to me.

The internets where I work are very heavily protected (it's amazing I can get to my blog...I consider it a little gift) so I can't download anything-like the application to use AIM. But now I don't need to!!!!!!!!! I can just use my trusty gchat.

Back to the techie part of this. I had heard mention of this IM glory before but dismissed or forgot it...until NOW. In the end, it was as simple as clicking on the "sign into AIM" link on gchat and remembering my password. I, neverthless, feel incredibly accomplished!!

In the Land of Cubes

2008-09-02T09:24:00.000-07:00

I have recently begun working in the Land of Cubes. It is a strange place with its own customs, mores, and behaviors. Upon walking through the double doors of the new land, one is greeted by an overwhelming labrynth of metal and fabric squares: the modern day cubicle.

Each of these compartments houses a unique creature who is able to fully come to life inside the cube. Though the close quarters would suggest a need for modesty and discretion to the uninitiated, this is not the law of the land in cube world. Instead, it appears that 3, four foot, walls provide all the privacy and soundproofing one could possibly need here.

Let's take exhibit A, the cube-dweller directly behind me. Judging from this dude's cube decorations, his love for Obabma is matched only by his love for American Idol. The pictorial displayed on the side of his cube is updated daily. This cube-dweller is a busy little bee, frequently leaving his cube...which allows his phone to ring (at full volume) unanswered at least a dozen times a day. Adding to the cacaphony, is his cell phone which even when he is there goes unanswered. In fact, it just rang and he didn't answer it or silence it but rather let it ring and just danced in beat to his ringtone.

That is the way in the Land of Cubes, I suppose.

The Pants

2008-08-31T06:41:00.000-07:00

Just when I thought the didn't make quality films anymore a gem like the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 comes along and surprises me. In a surprisingly full theater I sat in the front row with my aunt, uncle, and cousin (great pick jen) and watched as this beautiful film about four young women unfolded before me.

They laughed, they cried, they fell in love and when they would look as though they were about to veer off course I knew it wouldn't be long before those pants instilled some sense in them and they were back on track.

Furthermore, these girls seems to be loaded and are not bothered by the typical constraints of reality. You loose your pants, of course the natural response is to book flights for the next day to go to Greece to find them. I think other films would be a lot better off if the didn't worry so much about plausibility...it's really kind of a drag.

On my list of things to do today after running and possibly while poolside is read the first pants book. With a sequel this good I can only imagine how amazing the original is.

J-Roll

2008-08-22T05:57:00.000-07:00

Last night my roommate and I partook in our nation's pastime and went to the Phillies game. It was the perfect night for a game: great weather, great seats, good weiners, and beer (coke for the roommate).

As you may or may not know, the Phillies' star player has been receiving a little heat lately for calling Philly fans "front-runners" meaning, when the team is doing well we are all about it, however, if they stumble the team does not get additional support from the crowd to encourage them, but rather merciless boos and yell from the stands. As my roommate says, those players are there to do a job and need to know when they are not doing it well. I, for one, think I would really respond well to a boss who simply booed me when my work was not the quality it needed to be!

So, in true Philly fashion, the fans did not disappoint last night. Rather than trying to prove J-Roll wrong they acted to exceed his expectations of their "front-runnerness". Every time he was up to bat the entire crowd booed in resounding unison. I said to my roommate "aw, I wish I could give Jimmy Rollins a hug" To which he responded "I wish I could kick him in the dick".

What Would Oprah Do?

2008-08-20T06:40:00.000-07:00

Over the last few months, I have perfected the arts of cynicism, whining, complaining, griping, and general belly-aching. My displeasure with my job has given me ample opportunity to perfect these skills. Then yesterday I read this article about a woman who has decided, for one year, to live her life like Oprah. Now, this broad seems totally bat shit crazy to me, but I thought maybe there is something to learn here. What if, instead of complaining for the 1,000th time about the unpleasantness I face at work everyday, I took a moment and thought to myself "What Would Oprah Do"?

Oprah, it turns out, has many tools to rely on during times of stress and uncertainty. She has Maya, Nelson, Gayle, and of course Maria Shriver...all of whom offer some level of Get Better Guru-ness. Luckily for me, Oprah, and her fellow spiritually fulfilled folks put their tricks of the trade on the Internets. Google can show me the way to enlightenment!

Of all of the Oprah-endorsed books that guarantee inner peace, I was most intrigued (much the same way I am intrigued by people who work at Whole Foods with those wooden discs in their ears) by The Secret. This gem of wisdom was penned by a former TV producer, obvious credentials for instructing people on how to live their best lives. The gist of it is: if you think/visualize positive things they will happen. You have to go about life thinking that what you want is already real. That's it, all you have to do is want it enough in your mind and sooner or later it will materialize in real life. The flip side of that, of course, is that if something bad happens to you like say war or an incurable disease than maybe your just weren't thinking enough positive thoughts.

All I can say is I love my new job, puppy, car, and vacation home so much I could almost burst.

Wild World of Tennis

2008-08-18T06:13:00.000-07:00

It has been a big week in the world of tennis, I hardly know where to begin. Let's start with the Olympics. Roger Federererer once again demonstrated that the last four years of his supposed tennis supremacy have been nothing but a joke, a facade, a ruse distracting fans from the Nadal's greatness. He blew it, AGAIN, in the Olympics...opening the door (not that he needed it) for my Rafa to grab gold. I realize the Olympics are supposed to be a great time of nationalism and zealotry for one's country, but I think the only way I could have been happier was if I had won the gold myself. As if growing up on a small island off the cost of Spain and making it all the way to Olympic gold wasn't enough: my boy Rafa is finally No. 1 in the world!!!!! Even Michael Phelps realizes this guy's greatness.

Rafa wasn't the only one picking up victories this weekend. My coach and I won our first doubles match on Saturday. Our opponents were tough but with my serve and my coach's hustle they were no match. Our arsenal of skills, tricks, and moves proved too much. Watch for me in 2012 in London. If Dara Torres can do it, so can I!!!!

Up Up and Away

2008-08-11T08:50:00.001-07:00

I realize I have taken a bit of an extended hiatus...please forgive me. All of my creative juices have been diverted to other areas lately and this here blog has been the main victim. But I AM BACK.

In the past, I have tried to steer these little posts away from being cynical rants- I can restrain myself no more. The source of my ire is shared by so many it has almost become cliche, but I just can't keep quiet anymore. These flipping airlines have gots to go! I would like to detail here all of things I would like to do to airline executives and the TSA, but I don't need to have all future flights include my being detained endlessly in that plexiglass box.

I was in Chicago this past weekend visiting friends and family which meant I had to subject myself to the mercy of the airline industry (United in this particular instance...but they are all indistinguishably miserable). I remember,when I first started traveling abroad, how there just seemed to be crowds and lines everywhere. And in America things seemed orderly, calm, and easy. Well now I can find that mass chaos of crowds and confusion right here in Philadelphia!! It is no longer possible to be a civilized human on a plane...the stakes are just too high. Whereas, once I would gladly be the last person on the plane to spare myself the rush to hurry up and wait on that little connector thing. Those days are gone!! In order to attain coveted overhead storage space (packed now b/c of baggage restrictions) one must can all that one can to get on to that plane as soon as possible, whatever the cost. This new law of the land was demonstrated by the 50 year old dude who pushed me out of the way to get in front of me for the 8 feet separating me and the ticket agent.

The flight home was no treat either. Thunderstorms in Philly caused a cancellation of my flight and an automatic rebooking on the 6am flight this morning. Great way to start the week!!

The weekend was fun though and I will be back with sunnier posts real soon. Just had to share.

Awww

2008-07-31T06:09:00.001-07:00

I realize I am a bit late on getting the scoop on this story as about 10million people have already viewed the video on youtube. The video, of course, is of Cristian the lion. A lion purchased as a pet, set free, and then gloriously reunited with his owners. I wanted to include the video but I can't because youtube is blocked (and I don't know how to put videos into posts). The video's heartwarming qualities should have been mitigated by the Whitney Houston soundtrack that plays...but they were not. at all. In fact, I seemed to really let the water works flow, in step, with that crackhead's crescendo. and IIIIIIIIIIIIII ey I will always love youuuuuuuuuuuu.

I was really touched and happy, then enter my ever sympathetic roommate who approaches the scene, sees me crying and then begins cackling wildly (as he is known to do) and proclaiming the video a fraud. I now have proof that Roommate's heart is black and shriveled. This story and video are amazing.

I have long worried because I just do not think babies are as cute as animals and this video did nothing to assuage those worries. mannnn, do I want a lion.

Mad Men and Mad Cool

2008-07-24T12:29:00.000-07:00

Unaware that the series is available On Demand, I filled up my Netflix queue with the first season of the AMC series Mad Men. Even if you had never heard of or seen this show in the last year, you have undoubtedly been hit with the recent deluge of praise being lavished on it everywhere. The style! the characters! The accuracy! Everyone it seems thinks this show is great. I hate missing out on stuff like that, so with no delay, I started watching last night. I made it through the first two episodes (which right there says a lot) and it is good. Not glued to the television like The Wire good, but still really good.

The overt sexism, racism, anti-semitism, adultery, smoking, and day drinking make it a real pleasure to watch. The working world before PC entered the lexicon and HR manuals everywhere. I can't claim to love going to work everyday but at least sexist comments are, for the most part, made behind closed doors.

In my continuing quest to discover emerging blog talent I bring to you If You Got It, Flaunt It
very smart and funny, and the author throws around words like "mad" and "hype" which I really like and would do on this blog if I wouldn't seem like a supreme d-bag for doing so. The blogger also knows how to do cool techie stuff like putting captions under pictures and placing pictures in locations other than the top let hand corner. It's pretty dope.

Go Fish

2008-07-23T11:10:00.000-07:00

Today's post comes at the suggestion of a faithful blog reader from Colorado. I am struggling here for a segue into this topic....As if it wasn't uncomfortable enough having non-english speakers spend an hour handling your feet during a pedicure the awkward and frankly strange factor appears to have increased dramatically.

The picture shows a fish pedicure being offered in the DC metro area (kitten, were you aware of this)??. The deal is you plunge your tootsies into the foot bath as normal except, in this instance, it is filled with tons of little carp fish that nibble at your toes and soles, snacking on your dead, rough, callused skin. totally f-ing disgusting. They say this has been done as an alternative because the razors once used for this purpose are now considered un-hygienic by many health boards. I remain skeptical that this is a better alternative! PETA should stop whining about my eating meat and rally around putting an end to this inhumane fish slave labor!

Springrolls Are for Suckas

2008-07-22T07:16:00.000-07:00

My culinary reputation suffered a major setback last night. I attempted to make a healthy version of the spring rolls offered by a neighborhood bar...with little success. They were pretty repulsive to look at and did not taste much better. They came up short in the categories of form (totally unappealing), function (gaping holes on the bottom causing contents to cascade out when picked up), and taste (ick). I view this as a lesson better learned in close company than in front of my live studio audience (seats still available, by the way, for the first taping).

In any event, the foulness of my dinner became a distant memory when I checked out this site: www.puslovers.com totally and unbelievably foul. There must be a real sick-o behind this pus-fest.

I'm Back

2008-07-21T09:37:00.000-07:00

After a week of sun soaked activities I am BACK!!! (sigh). The shore was great and I was able to darken my skin color by a few shades while my roommate conquered the mighty waves of the atlantic in a kayak. A week of beach, swimming, tennis, reading, and ice cream achieved its goal of fun and relaxation.

A note about the reading part: instead of reading Not Well Advised for school I read The Sex Lives of Cannibals which was far more entertaining albeit slightly less helpful in writing this week's assignment for class. I think travel writing could be my new calling so stay tuned for the carly-pumpkin world tour.

Upon my return from the land of sun and sea breezes I found myself back in may apartment with plenty of the former and NONE of the latter. Our AC is really not up to the task of keeping our place cool when the temperature is 8,000 degrees. So I spent the day as motionless as possible (save for the energy required to fruitlessly call Comcast to get the Tennis Channel added to our package). In the evening, my roommate and I found sweet relief inside the movie theater to watch the Dark Knight. As you know, action films are not really my thing as they tend to be awfully short on choreographed dance routines and Julia Roberts has yet to really break into the genre. The movie was also off to a bad start with a running time of about 2.5 hours. WAY over my typical attention span. At best I was hoping to not be bored. I was not bored. I was captivated, totally mesmerized by the duel for Gotham between Batman and the Joker. Followed it up with Batman Begins last night on TV.

So, that's all for now.

I'm Outta Here

2008-07-16T15:20:00.000-07:00

A Convert

2008-07-11T10:59:00.000-07:00

I tend to be anti-clothes for dogs. I am a recent convert to being a little-dog fan but have not gone fully to the dark side and embraced canine couture. This aversion is largely attributable to the fact that the dogs I grew up in were too big for my clothes and therefore not candidates for little shrunk down puppy outfits.

This has started to change. Of the many great finds that Target's dollar shelves have to offer (the makings of Fiesta in a Box for example), we found a truly spectacular treasure there over the weekend. A puppy parka. Parker DESPISES the rain. He sits down and refuses to budge (not much of a fight given his small stature) but mentally he is fighting all the way. For a pooch who tiptoes around puddles, he would certainly risk the pain of holding it rather than being drenched on a walk. It could be his fear of being wet or he might know that he looks more rodent than canine when wet and his vanity gets the best of him. Either way, the parka we found has a hood and a clear visor and everything. We need some velcro and bungee cords to make it stay but I know it is going to be a hit!

Then J.Crew with its crewmuts!! it's ridiculously overpriced and actually costs more than the people version, but if Parker plays his cards right he could end up with a J.Crew wardrobe to match mine. And, NO, i will not be embarrassed or ashamed that my dog wears clothes.

my day off: kitten, meat, and weeds

2008-07-09T09:48:00.000-07:00

I'm back. I took the day off yesterday for various reasons, one of which was to rest and under my strict definition of the Sabbath that meant no blog either.

My kitten paid a visit during a stop-over of her old-time rail tour of the keystone state. We went to Lolita and dined from a fixed price menu titled simply: meat. meat. meat. (moo). Delish! We washed it all down with blood orange margaritas. My roommate was there too and he seemed to enjoy the meat but his alcohol-free watermelon margarita almost surely put him off drinking for another 28 years. He actually said the taste of that made him lose respect for all drinkers. harsh, I think.

The evening was followed by a nice day at the pool (i was shocked that I was not the only one there...who are these peeps who get to hang poolside on a tuesday? and what do i need to do to get in that club?) and a dinner prepared using ingredients from my organic vegetable subscription. One of the goals of getting this subscription was to cook and eat new vegetables (you don't get to pick what is in your shipments). Well, this week that meant dandelion. Yes, the weeds that grow in gardens. I followed the cooking directions I found on the internets and the taste was what I imagine poison tastes like. After prolonged gagging with the offending weeds in my mouth i finally made my way to the sink to spit them out and start the painful process of forgetting it ever happened. Those dirty hippies must be REAL high to eat those things.

In other news, I am not even finished the article yet but already this is one of the most disturbing things i have ever read.

I Can't Believe I Did It.

2008-07-07T06:00:00.000-07:00

I cheered Rafael Nadal all the way to a Wimbledon Victory. It took me nearly 7 hours but I did it. My throat was hoarse and my head hurt from the sound of my own shrieking voice, but he won and it was all worth it. I screamed "vamos" and threw fist pumps in the living room more times than I am comfortable admitting. My roommate even helped out with shouts of "bailamos" or "let's dance".

Reading the papers this morning people have called the greatest match in Wimbledon history, a classic. For me it was just magic, watching that little monkey scurry, leap, swing, and scream for 5 hours across that court.

Normally, I always feel badly for the losing team, to the point where it measurably detracts from my joy for the winning team. I think about how much it must stink to go home that night and how crabby and unpleasant they must be the next day. I read this quote from Federererererer "Probably my hardest loss, by far; I mean it’s not much harder than this right now...I’m disappointed, and I’m crushed...This is a disaster. Paris was nothing in comparison". I felt nothing but sheer joy that those words were coming out of RF's mouth and not Rafa's. This victory has really changed me. VAMOS!!!

God Bless America and the 4-day workweek

2008-07-03T06:10:00.000-07:00

As soon as i put in my obligatory hours at work I will be headed for a long weekend in the country. Going for weekends in the country is like being at summer camp but with wine and better food. This weekend will be no different. My aunt and uncle will be playing host to my roommate,parker, and me as well as a rotating cast of other visitors. We are expecting my sister (her b-day too) her husband, amanda, jordan, brie and rossome...in addition to country residents (various aunts, uncles, cousins, and dogs). Many many campers to play with!!!

Already scheduled are pool time, tennis (no lynnie vs. pumpkin rematch yet...i need to be ready), fireworks, yummy yummy meals, and last but not least Cheetahrita mix-off: take 2. The cheetahrita is perhaps the worlds most delicious and satisfying blended drink. It is refreshing and sweet (in a non stomachache-inducing way) with a sizable punch. So far, this delicious libation has been issued in a very limited release and getting your hands on a glass of one typically required a trip on NJ Transit. So this weekend, with all of the experts in town, we are going to perfect the recipe and make plans for broader distribution.

Google, what??

2008-07-01T13:52:00.000-07:00

This day is totally ending on a high note. I just checked my google analytics report (I know I usually check in the morning but I didn't think it was worth it since I hadn't posted yesterday: WRONG).

After parsing the data (I take this very seriously) I noticed a spike in the "referring sites" numbers. Meaning the number of people who have found my blog by searching for it (intentionally or not).

A while back I tried out some techie stuff and did something like "registered" my blog to be searchable on google..turns out it WORKED. unbelievable. I realize you may need a magnifying glass to see the proof, but just trust me...or google it for yourself.

A Change is Gonna Come

2008-07-01T12:43:00.001-07:00

Here is a recap of yesterday (since there was no post from me to keep you otherwise informed).

7:30am: Alarm sounds with digital melody of "Big Poppa" from Notorious B.I.G. This actually serves as more of a reminder than a wakeup call as Parker has already sat on my head and licked my eyes at least twice at this point.

7:30am-8am: Breakfast and daily grooming

8:30am-5:00pm: Work and simulated work activities

5:30pm: Walk Parker

6:00pm: manicure

6:30pm: Whole Foods

7:00pm-7:30pm: make dinner

7:31pm-7:34pm eat dinner (I was REAL hungry)

7:35pm-10:00pm: clean apt, do laundry, look at facebook, walk Parker again

10:15ish bed.

Are you still with me? Have you died from boredom? Recounting this day is almost as boring as experiencing it. I write all of this to say: I need to kick things up a notch. Answering the question "what have you been up to lately" with a heart breakingly honest "ehh, not much" is not cool. I have a few things (trips and such) lined up for later this summer. But until then I am going to actively start trying to be more entertaining to myself (and by extension to the blog readers). I don't know that I will start base jumping, smoking crack, or walking through North Phillly on my way home, but there will be more excitement and enthusiasm in the day to day! I will not be 24 forever and so I need to carpe diem while i can!!!

suggestions welcome.

Stars and the Moon

2008-06-27T06:56:00.000-07:00

Stars and the Moon. That was the name my friend Rachel and I gave to a boy a grade above us in grade school. His birth name is Aaron Star, but with our clever code we could talk about him (as he was the object of my affection) without him having ANY idea. The crush was incredibly short-lived, in fact not sure it lasted much past us coming up with the cryptic code name. Anyhow, he went off to boarding school and I moved on as well.

The summer after my freshman year in college I lived in the Outer Banks with some friends. I had an ill-fated job as a kayak instructor which had the huge upside of cash tips which could be given directly to my "of age" downstairs neighbors for beer. One day at work, who do I see? Good old Stars and the Moon, Aaron Star. We chatted a few times throughout the summer and that was pretty much that.

Fast forward to present day, I live in Philadelphia and see this kid everywhere!! Walking to work in the AM, at the train station, on the street. Last night we saw him when we were sitting outside eating dinner and then AGAIN on the way home. After having already had one chance encounter with this kid I feel like another would be too much and too awkward for me to handle. So I hide, turn away, or cover my face whenever he walks by. Not too different from when I was in 7th grade and had a crush on him.

Update

2008-06-26T06:56:00.000-07:00

My tennis lessons have continued, and I think most would consider my progress to be "slow but steady". It seems that each area of my game that I improve, reveals another area in need of even more attention. My forehand improvements seem to come directly at the expense of my backhand.

One thing that has surely suffered in this process is my temper. I fear I may need to take a class in remedial tennis etiquette. I have yet to throw a racquet, but I think it is still probably frowned upon to call your opponent a "stupid mother fucker" when he hits a shot you can't get to. My outbursts are made worse given that my practice court is at a school where kids and families are usually hanging out sharing quality summer time together.

Things get really bad when my coach starts cackling at and counting the consecutive shots I miss. The scene quickly resembles what it would look like if Quentin Tarantino made a movie about tennis...with dialog to match.

The lesson ended on a high note and I am undeterred in my pursuit of tennis greatness.

He Needs to Get a J-O-B, Just Like Everybody Else

2008-06-25T09:57:00.000-07:00

I finally gave up on my commitment to complete my $25 chic lit impulse bye. I saw no need to impose such suffering upon myself during what is supposed to be a leisure activity. Instead, I have moved on to David Sedaris' new book "When You Are Engulfed in Flames". Like his other books, it is a collection of essays so it is great for reading just a little bit at a time...like I did today during my lunch. I was sitting outside, enjoying the lovely weather, and reading about Mr. Sedaris' field trip to the county morgue. It was as fascinating as it was disgusting.

I have a tendency to be pretty engrossed in what I am reading, usually to the exclusion of everything else that is going on around me. This habit has caused me to nearly miss a flight while sitting directly next to the ticket agent. Today, though, I think I reached new heights in realizing the transcendent powers of reading (those monks could really learn quite a bit from me). I was sitting on some steps outside when right across the street (25 ft. maybe) a full blown crime went down. A guy tried to steal a lady's purse and was then tackled to the ground by 2 on-lookers whom were quickly joined by police. I just kept on reading. I realized something was afoot only when a movie-like flood of people began leaving their lunch perches to get a closer view of the scene.

I joined too. It was there I learned that initial reports of gunfire (overhead as people were whizzing past me) were unfounded. Floored by the audacity of this mid-day heist, the public had many comments. The most astute of which was 'you don't steal purses. he needs to get a j-o-b, just like everybody else'. word.

Let Me Call You on My Land Line

2008-06-23T06:30:00.000-07:00

Today’s post comes after a very insightful question posed by one of my American readers: What makes me more mature getting a house phone or getting engaged? Tough call in my opinion. Sure the engaged thing certainly sends signals about commitment and “settling down”. But a land line? That’s a real step!

Since college and my long distance PIN, I have relied exclusively on cell phones for communication. I am sure the decision had as much to do with cost as anything else. Upon graduation I was certainly in no financial position to be paying for redundant technologies. I probably would have also told people that I didn’t need a house phone anyways, I’m like never home. “work is crazy” “I went out 6 nights this week!” Home was a place for sleeping, not casual chats on the phone.

I, too, have recently taken the land line plunge. My move came under duress as those monopolistic bastards at Comcast practically shove the “Triple Play” down your throat. But I do like it. In theory I can buzz people in from downstairs, which is awesome. Perhaps I’ll even start using it for non-transactional phone calls. As I have grown more matur,e I have found myself with a much lower tolerance for the walkie-talkie like pace of cell phone conversations. And have grown increasingly annoyed by having conversations where the other person is shopping, driving, walking dog. I can sense their distraction. The land line really could be the answer!

Fras, blow me up on my house line later!! (I’ll send you the number in another letter, my Mexican readers would never stop calling…oh and I have to ask my roommate for it b/c I don’t know it)

I Am a Global Sensation!! Yo soy un sensacion global!!

2008-06-19T05:54:00.000-07:00

My morning routine goes something like this: 1. get coffee 2. check gmail 3. check blog to see if anyone has commented since I last checked 20 minutes ago while I was eating breakfast 4. download blog traffic report from google analytics. I learned some amazing things this morning while performing task 4.

For those of you who don't know, google analytics is some techie thing I put on my blog so I can track and measure your love of me (or more specifically how many people visit the site and how many total visits there have been.). There are LOTS of cool reports you can run to measure things like "viewer loyalty" and stuff like that. WELL there is also a map overlay feature that lets me see where my viewers are. I checked it out for the first time today and was astonished at what i found. People in 6 countries have viewed my blog! I am like the new Selena in Mexico where there are 9 dedicated mexicans who have visited the carly pumpkin site. I also have fans in Argentina, Brazil, Finland, and Germany!!! I may need to go on tour and do blog readings in coffee shops.

I tried to put a picture of the google analytics map on here as proof but it didn't really work. you will just have to take my word on it.