I Really Need To Get Back Into Yoga

if only for the calming effect it has on my life.

I said some version of this to myself - out loud - in my empty car - as I drove to my first of three commitments after work today. I could literally feel the crushing weight of everything I have to do in the next four weeks sitting on my sternum. Yoga really would help but there's NO TIME, PEOPLE.

This is my calendar from this week. In addition to these commitments, I have done four loads of laundry, cleaned the kitchen, guest room and master suite, gone grocery shopping, worked on artwork for an upcoming album, counseled a couple of my TNT participants, gathered items for my current fundraiser and slept a little bit. A very little bit.

C'mon, February 15th.

"We Can Rebuild Her. We Have The Technology.

We can make her better than she was. Better...stronger...faster."

Or, you know, pretty much the same.

2011 started off ok in my book - I finally got my bike back! Two months post-accident, some semblance of The Firebolt is back in my possession. She looks a little different thanks to her brand-spanking-new frame and bar tape, but she's essentially the same old gal.

Without the kicky red accents, I feel like the Firebolt moniker just doesn't fit anymore. Hence, I would like to introduce you to The Firebolt, reincarnated: introducing... The Freeze Ray.(I know it's a blurry picture in front of a bunch of crap, but I'm never home during daylight hours and my camera sucks.)

I definitely need to replace that red water bottle cage one of these days. Or maybe I'll keep it for the memories. But for now, hey! I have my bike back!

Is It Just Me, Or...

uh...

Christmas balls FTW.

Fourteen Actors Acting

Acting their asses off.

This is so seriously awesome.

James Franco can come here to me. Even with that mustache, which is saying something.
Matt Damon is angry. And needs a haircut.
Michael Douglas made me so sad. Cancer is horrible.
Vincent Cassel is so spry. He makes it look effortless.

For real, you guys. Go watch it.

And here's a little behind the scenes article.

Sunday Was A Rough Day

A rough day, indeed.

I'm swamped with work and freelance stuff right now, but wanted to quickly share a couple sage bits of wisdom with you, my fine readers. I'll elaborate soon, but for now...

In the grand tradition of discovering how one might become categorized as a redneck, I give you the following identifiers:

1. You actually sunburn your neck while spending time outdoors at the tailgating portion of a professional sporting event.

2. You are cited for trespassing at said sporting event.

And by you I, of course, mean me.

Oh, there's a story there.

*Snort*

You've really got to watch out for the crazy eyes.

from Toothpaste for Dinner

While Bing Crosby Gently Weeps

OR, A Twitter Conversation That Virtually Doubled My Tweet Count

A lone tweet by my awesomely funny friend Will sparked quite the conversation this evening, the timing of which couldn't have been better. Let me explain.

I love Christmas music. I start listening to it the day after Thanksgiving (no sooner, though - sacrilege!) and continue until New Years, when I stop cold turkey. That's just the way it is. I have quite a few Christmas albums that I love, lots of happy memories of my mom's classic Christmas tapes (remember the one with the red roses or whatever on it, htd?), and a local radio station that plays nonstop Christmas music for a month. Unfortunately, the latter of these three musical options can come with some unpleasant side effects.

Case in point: this morning, as I was driving to work listening to 99.9 "Your Holiday Station", I was hit in rapid succession by no less than three of my least favorite Christmas songs of all time. As I suffered through Springsteen growling about Santa Claus' creeper tendencies and inevitable arrival in my city, I thought "I should do a blog post on my least favorite Christmas songs." And then, 14 hours later, this conversation happened:

Will, to the twitterverse: My wife's explication of the lyrics of Santa Baby is much dirtier than my own. o_O She just ruined a Christmas classic.

Kristen: Madonna's version is my second-least favorite Christmas song ever, preceded only by that effing Christmas Shoes song. Shudder.

Will: Grandma. Reindeer. Hit-and-run. Where does this rate?

Kristen: Tied for third with that severely-overplayed instrumental version of Sleigh Ride with the trumpet "horse whinny" at the end.

Will: ah, the one played by every mediocre high school band in America. Concur with your rankings thus far, but can I get a top 10?

And if Mannheim Steamroller isn't on it somewhere, then we're not friends.

Kristen: 5) any song involving a modern day artist magically singing a duet with a classic recording.

6) Santa Claus is Coming to Town - Bruce Springsteen

7) barking dog Jingle Bells; 8) Auld Lang Syne Millennium Mix - Kenny G; 9) "jazzy" versions of Little Drummer Boy

10) anything with talking/singing children. I know they're going for sweet, but it always, always makes the song 76% creepier.

I'm sorry, I can't include Mannheim Steamroller on the list. The albums bring back happy childhood memories. I will miss you.

Will, to the twitterverse: One of @kristenlarson's most endearing qualities is that she never shies away from a challenge to make a top 10 list.

Will: I call foul. #8 is a New Years song.

Kristen: Hm, true. But they still play it on the All Christmas All The Time radio station. If it helps, you can replace it with...

8*) Wonderful Christmastime - Paul McCartney

Will, referring to Mannheim Steamroller: Me too on happy memories, but have you listened lately? It's TERRIBLÉ (as in, so bad it requires a pretentious accent mark).

Kristen: Wow, it must be horrible. Sad. Although, I'm imagining you saying TERRIBLÉ with a thick French accent, so that's helping.

Will: I'm spitting thrice over my right shoulder after saying it. Why? Because twice isn't good enough.

Kristen: if only you were sporting a thin little mustache and smoking a cigarette... #stereotypesarefun

Fin.