rachelpink rides the bus

Baked

What a crumbly weekend--I'm in a terrible terrible mood! Yesterday I missed out on chili and sports-watching with Fritz and Anna because the water was screwed up in my apartment. I skipped out on Australia with Meg, Meredith and Matt on Friday because I drank too much Yuengling while making cookies and working on the book. Today it poured freezing rain as I walked to and from Panera where I spent 5 hours working on the book. . . and drinking much too much coffee.

Despite the crankiness, it's not like I got nothing done. I did lots of prep for my cookie party:
A double batch of sugar cookie dough (in the fridge for cooking later in the week)
A batch of checkerboard cookie dough (in the freezer)
A batch of lime meltaway cookie dough (in the freezer)
A batch of chocolate chip cookie bars (baked and frozen for freshness)
A batch of double-chocolate dream cookies (presently being baked)

I hung some Christmas lights that I'll probably keep up until Easter because I absolutely adore twinkly lights.

I decided to get a tattoo in 2009 instead of 2010. I saw the E! True Hollywood Story about Hulk Hogan, and I kind of think I need his face on my forearm.

I'm almost finished with my part of the book. Almost. Meg, don't hit!

My favorite part of the weekend? In a conversation with Delaney, she asked me to guess what she had for dinner. I made all kinds of nuts guesses (grape jelly! cornflakes!) and she said, "it starts with a B!!!" I made some more silly guesses, and then she said with complete exasperation, "BASGHETTI!!"

Doll in progress. Pin in belly. Missing head. Cat lurking nearby.

I did not meet Barry Manilow today, but I was closer to him than I've ever been :)

My call time was 8am this morning, so my mom and I arrived at 7:30ish. . . only to be told my segment moved to 9:30. Argh. The green room is small and it was super crowded, so we headed over to have coffee around the corner from the studio. I practiced my spiel a few times, and then mom helped me plan the cookie menu for my holiday fete while we waited. Karen K3mpster is an angel. Not only was she my stage mother today and giver of great lines (no batteries required--that's all mom), she also chipped in some cash towards my party :) I was able to buy the really good vanilla extract thanks to her! You'll thank me for it later.

So close to 9 we walked back over to the studio. Barry Manilow could be heard from a block away, and the green room was the perfect spot to catch his performance. He is a tiny tiny man. My mom got to meet a few of the second and third string hosts while we were back in the green room, and then it was time for me to get miked up! The crew guys rocked (where do those guys hang out? crew guys are universally awesome) and while the producer tended to me, someone got my mom a brilliant spot on the plaza right next to the cameramen.

As usual, the next bit is a blur. I know I mentioned Obama, talked over the host, and said that books are great presents. Since I forgot to set my DVR, I haven't seen the spot! But I was so happy to get so many texts and calls and status updates from my friends when it was done.

Still, it's weird having to do the show on a non-work day. I dropped my mom off at Penn, ran some errands, and then, well, it's kind of an adrenaline crash. I bought supplies to make cookies, only to realize that the checkout chick at Kmart didn't put the cookie sheets I bought in the bag. . . so instead I'm making more glove presents and holiday decorations. I should have gone to the movies with Meg and Meredith because I'm feeling a little lonely and stir-crazy (and a little drunk too--good beer on sale=tipsy Rachel).

(Here's mom in her Today glory!)

Leaving shortly for The Today Show. If I blink, it means I'm thinking of you :)

Spirited

Today I was supposed to go to work, spend a few hours writing at Starbucks, and then visit the balloon inflation for an injection of festivity. Instead, I joined Meredith, Lance, and PJ at an afternoon viewing of Four Christmases. I love seeing movies with other people who laugh out loud. I used to laugh quietly into my napkin, but now--no more quiet! Laugh laugh laugh, I say. Now, I still had a hankering to see the balloons despite the chilly wind and the heavy bag of books I had to lug home for my Today Show appearance. After a quick trip to Borders through the throngs of folks rushing around Penn Station, I changed my mind about the balloons and decided the crowds would destroy my holiday verve. Since I was so close, I thought I'd take a peek at the hubbub on 34th St. instead. MISTAKE MISTAKE MISTAKE. While dazzled by the lights and the windows (snow-angel making penguins! silver ghosty robot thingies!), I wanted to KICK AND PUNCH all the people on the street. Dear God, where's the joy? Where's the common sense? Where's the impulse to say "Excuse me" after you hit a sweet person like myself with your gigantic duffel bag filled with rocks and/or bricks? I was wearing black and red striped knee highs--who can hit something that adorable about the back and shoulders with their luggage? Lots of people, apparently.

And even with all that, I still love NY on Thanksgiving Eve.

Tough day.

Last night before I went to bed I put away the food and water so Foster would be ready to go for surgery this morning. When I woke up around 6:30, both cats were mad in unison. When I got of bed, they ran to their empty bowls. When I did the dishes, they ran to their empty bowls. They were hoping and praying for breakfast.

I caged up Foster and left a very grateful Cupcake with food.

Foster cried all the way to the Humane Society. Cried and cried and cried. And then right as we got off the 59th St. bridge, he stopped crying and got angry. He clawed at the bars and something went wrong--the latch snapped and his little mad hungry head popped out of the carrier. I stuffed him down, fumbled to pay the driver, and somehow managed to lock him back in.

At the Humane Society 6 people were ahead of us on line--and we were early. As the morning wore on, the number of waiting pets swelled close to 20. After an hour or so Foster was called. We went back to the vet's office. The assistant weighed him (almost 10 lbs of cuteness), and then the doctor listened to his heart. He made a face. He called over another vet. "Do you hear what I hear?" he asked? She did, I guess, because one more vet popped on by and took a listen.

Vet #1 told me that they couldn't neuter Foster because his heartbeat was wrong. It doesn't look like stress, he said, because he's otherwise content. Huh. I wondered what it all meant? The vet recommended I make an appointment with a cat cardiologist and have my little pumpkin's heart checked. His heartbeat is off, and a minor procedure like neutering would be dangerous until they determined the cause of the abnormality.

OK. I checked out of the clinic and hopped into a cab (not before Foster made one more escape attempt--don't worry, I chucked the cage in the trash the minute I got him home). I called my mom at work, but she was out. Then I got Jaimie on her work number and I started to bawl.

Now, I know it's going to be OK. I know. It's just that I love this little cat. Since the day I brought him home, he's followed me around like a puppy. Cupcake is an independent thing, but Foster has a paw on me at all times. And it's nice to be needed (and kneaded), even by a cat.

This is the Christmas of crafting, and it's liberating. There, I said it. I'm enjoying making presents. This weekend I finished two softies and almost finished a third (I just can't get the face right). I have all the supplies I need on hand to finish the rest of my projects, and most of them were found right here in my neighborhood in hobby shops and discount stores.

If I didn't have a book to write, this would be even more fun. But I'll live. It just means that between now and Christmas every second needs to count.

This day has so much going for it:

1. It's blustery cold, so I can wear my winter finery.
2. I'm meeting Meg for a long, productive book-writing session.
3. Before I meet Meg, I'm going to make a quick pit stop at the Greenmarket just because I love it.
4. When we're done writing, we're going to see TWILIGHT. And yeah, I'm too old to like those books, but age be damned. Chaste vampire love is my favorite kind of love, and I can't wait to see it on the big screen.

But before the fun starts, I need to clean the apartment. I can't even see my kitchen table under the piles of yarn and magazines and sales-conference materials.

It's not that I'm a scrooge. I love the holidays. I'm excited to have my friends over for cookies. I'm excited to see the whole city beautified with glittery store windows, sprinkles of snow, and trees for sale on every street corner between here and there.

And this year I'm broke for Christmas thanks to the bionic tooth and moving to a new place, and even that can't dampen my spirit. It's all about love and joy and hot chocolate, right?

So please don't think me evil when I tell you that this particular holiday gift item, a skirt that plays "The Hokey Pokey" sends me into a blind rage. But really really really, is there a kid in the WORLD who needs a skirt that plays "The Hokey Pokey"?