Stephanie Thompson gave me a gold star. It was certainly not for my killer fashion sense. Rob calls this coat my “serial bomber” coat, and says it makes me look crazy. He’s right, but I don’t care because it’s so warm, and also because my grandmother told me it was cute once. It is approximately nine sizes too big.

Anyway, thank you, Stephanie!

Penny: I’m a Sagittarius, which probably tells you way more than you need to know.

Sheldon: Yes, it tells us that you participate in the mass cultural delusion that the Sun’s apparent position relevant to arbitrarily defined constellations at the time of your birth somehow affects your personality.

It’s usually easy for me to ignore the horoscope thing, but with the new “earth is at a different access so everyone’s signs are suddenly different”, I’m hearing a lot about it and, frankly, it’s annoying the snot out of me. I separate people into two categories: those that understand how science works, and those who care about what their sign is.

If you fall into the latter category, I will always sort of be judging you.

Acquire less stuff and more stories.

Work more, get more money, and give more money away.

Travel more. Hibernate less. Spend lots of Sundays at brunch and late nights in bars.

Wear sparkly tops and inappropriate skirts. Do yoga.  Keep living awesomely.

Have adventures.

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I’m in an airport typing up my farewell blog post before I jet off for fun in the sun with family for a few days. Then it’s back to New York for one last 2010 photoshoot. I’m not established enough yet to turn down jobs, so I’ll take them when I can get them, even if it means cutting vacation a little shorter than usual. It’s good, though; I feel silly, but leaving my dogs wrenches my heart out every time, and I miss them already. I woke up this morning with one on each foot and a third blowing dog breath in my face and just about died from the love. Does this make me a crazy dog lady?

Don’t answer that.

Merry Christmas!

image from Jiggery Pokery

Early this week I had a migraine that had been raging for hours. I couldn’t eat, drink, or even move around too much, but I got to the point where I was really hungry. I said to Rob, “I’m hungry. I hurt. I don’t know what I want to eat, but I know I need to eat, and sooner rather than later. And I can’t think about it and I can’t decide what I want and you need to get me the food that I want and give it to me because I can’t because the entire world is smeared behind the pain that is my head right now.” My voice caught, then trembled, and I sniffed pathetically. Then I flung an afghan over my head and moaned to myself while sinking into the corner of the couch: a tented pity party.

He brought me exactly what I wanted, and he remembered a fork.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4EMlDf_cH8Y&feature=player_embedded#!

Alice, who is turning 107 this month, is the oldest living Holocaust survivor.  Her love for people and vitality is remarkable.

Matty used his nose to nudge open the bathroom door.

“Um, dude…”

He sat there with his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth, and his tail wagged so hard he thumped the wall with it. He was utterly delighted to have found me.  I put down my magazine and sighed.

“Can Mommy poop in peace?”

In response, he sat down in front of me and rested his chin on my bare knee.

Mommy cannot.

Really, America?

SunChips biodegradable bags are being recalled because they’re too loud.

Come on. I’d rather have a loud bag for a few minutes than a plastic piece of trash that will gunk up the earth for a thousand years. Right? No?

Rob and I adore having overnight guests but we don’t do guest towels. I feel that if there’s a towel in our bathroom that’s not good enough for a guest, it’s certainly not good enough for our family. So, since all of our towels are identical, there are minimal used-towel hanging spots around our not-so-big apartment, and life is way too short to give any brain space to remembering which door or piece of furniture you flung your damp towel over 24 hours ago, mix-ups are easy.

This week, though, Rob came up with an awesomely simple way to mark everyone’s towels – write their name on a clothespin with a Sharpie and clip it on. Like, duh! He did it earlier this week when the Pyes were here, and it was a total “Why didn’t we think of this before?!” moment.

Plus, coming across “Dan” and “Kim” clothespins while doing the laundry is going to make me really happy for a long time.

Over the weekend I watched 2 Days in Paris, written, directed by and starring Julie Delpy, the blond above.

I’ve already been shopping for new specs, and this movie inspired me.  Between Julie’s glasses, this photo from Le Blog de Betty, and this photo that Zan posted of herself in her “new” vintage French frames, I’m thinking bigger! Darker! Fencher!

Que pensez-vous?