I'm in the cube, counting down the minutes until early dismissal, reflecting on my 2K9. There were lots of ups and downs...

One big highlight for the year (and in my life I guess) was starting my new job, which is actually sort of on track for my life. Ever the wavering and terrible decision-maker, I've wrestled with the whole "what do I want to be when I grow up?" thing for years and now I finally feel like I'm headed down an ok-ish road. It makes me cackle to think about what a pathetic position I was in this time last year. A lot has changed. Hip Hip Hooray! I'm also creeping toward total independence and adulthood. It's been a slow process, but I'm getting somewhere on that front I think. Otherwise, there were many times in 2009 that were quite the bummer in my life.

So in the spirit of both continuing on my "movin' on up to the Eastside" streak and putting crappy things behind me, good riddance 2009. I've started crafting my annual list of New Years Resolutions....here's what I'm thinking:

1. Clean up my sailor mouth. I have a few bad habits, but cursing could be one of my worst. Its not intelligent, it's not classy, I'm better than it (sidenote: I try this one every year).
2. Get into my 2005 jeans before a wedding I'm going to in March. There will be lots of high school people there I haven't seen in a while and I'm determined to look smokin'. Call me shallow, but it's also just sort of a realistic timeline for me to get rid of my muffin tops.
3. Read a book per month. I stole this one from a friend, but I want to read more. It's a realistic endeavor too.
4. Connect with more of my old friends. I frequently feel like I don't have enough girlfriends, but I really do have tons, I just lazily slip out of touch with them. I know some stinking awesome people and should take more advantage of that.
5. Conversely, try to branch out and make some new friends. I'm sort of in a new city, so I need some fresh faces to go along with it. So far the d-bags run rampant in Dallas, but all hope is not lost.
6. This is the biggie: I really want to generally be more positive. I've always been a glass-half-empty person and I think I want to switch things up. I think being more upbeat and looking on the brightside more often will go a long way in being a happier me. I know its more pleasant to be around an optimistic person, and in 2010 I'm going to be one of those people dammit (sailor mouth cleanup doesn't start until tomorrow).
7. Beef up Poodleism. No more details...wouldn't want to release any spoilers.

Well, those are the things I can think of for now. I'm extra thankful to be embarking on a new journey with manfriend and the prince by my side. I hope to keep on keepin' on with the professional advancement and sunny attitude, but talk to me tomorrow after I celebrate tonight. I bet I'll want to be be back in '09.

Thats it for 2009 my few and very valued readers. See you next year!

One of the carpoolers alerted me to a very interesting/hilarious glimpse at the collective American consciousness. When you enter a search term in Google, it tries to guess what you'll be searching based on popular searches before you finish entering it. This is a nifty thing, but it says some giggle-tastic things about the questions we (yes we, you know you use Google to satisfy your most outlandish curiosities...) ask. The top fives that cracked my shiz up...

If you begin typing "why do....", you get these answers in this order:

1. why do men have nipples (I am curious about this...)
2. why do cats purr (much love to the pet lovers out there on these next few)
3. why do dogs eat poop
4. why do dogs eat grass
5. why does my vag smell (ARE FLIPPING KIDDING ME?)

If you begin typing "what happ....", you get these ridiculous 'popular searches':

1. what happens when you die (totally legitimate)
2. what happened to seal's face (Huh?)
3. what happens in vegas
4. what happens when you lose your virginity (hello parents, do your job and have that talk)
5. what happened on my birthday (ummm....?)

Another hilarious one is to begin typing "how come...". I don't want to go there, it gets a little X-rated, but no less priceless.

UPDATE: a pal found this fabulous website Called Autocomplete Me with even more great searches to browse.

Anyway, I love this meaningless sociological crap. My absolute favorite is that the number two question (ON THE WHOLE INTERNET) beginning with "what happen..." has to do with Seal's face. I'm not going to disagree that that is one ugly mug, but I can't believe that many people are so interested. I guess all the other washed up stars out there should consider some sort of similar facial alteration to stay relevant (I'm talking to you Tara Reid) instead of the occasional planned nipple slip.

I thoroughly enjoyed this little exercise on a slow day in the cubicle. Try it out yourself. You may be shocked and tickled at what you find.

First things first, sorry for the Poodleism hiatus this last week or so. It was a rocky holiday and the blogosphere kept descending on my to-do list. Additionally this topic has been burning in my mind since it happened, but I didn't want to ruin the surprise for the few lucky ones who received this iconic image via Holiday greeting card. Absorb this before you proceed:

Notice anything funny about Santa?

The prince and I decided to include Old Saint Nick in our annual holiday portrait session. After researching all places to visit Santa, I found that at PetSmart they'll take you and your furry friend's picture with Santa for $10. JACKPOT. And, all the proceeds visit the North Texas SPCA. DOUBLE JACKPOT. So one Sunday afternoon, we trucked it into the store for our photo session. Upon arrival I immediately groaned at the sight of this piss-pore Santa. Manfriend insisted we stay for the comedic value. As we waited for our turn, it became clear that Santa was not only a woman, but a woman that liked other women. I was one of the few in line without a small child, so judging by my own discomfort, I can imagine the Dallas housewives in the queue with me were absolutely horrified. This social tension amounted to total hilarity.

Per my usual Sunday sluggishness, we were the last photo of the day and Santa was just getting off duty. As we were waiting for the picture to print, Santa began to de-robe right in the middle of the store. As she began peeling away her Santa suit, which had gotten uncomfortably "sweaty" (so she reported to the crowd of strangers watching in amazment), she exposed her Texas aTm t-shirt and man jorts beneath. VOMIT. Then as the red felt pants dropped to her ankles, she revealed her calves to be covered in tatoos of pinup girls. At this point I'm staring and can't stop. She replaced her Santa cap with an aTm baseball hat, which proved to be the crown jewel atop her completly ridiculous appearance. But, she forgot to take off the stick-on gray Santa eyebrows and walked away cooly to "go out back for a smoke." After her departure Manfriend and I both were nearly exploding with commentary and giggles. Comedic value of this little endeavor proved priceless, good call manfriend.

I feel a little guilty for being so appalled at this woman. I like to think of myself as a liberal, worldly, accepting kind of person. Apparently not. This lady was just so ridiculous I almost couldn't be polite. The best part of it all was the shock that all my loved ones received in their mailbox. Several of them have followed up with a strong "WTF?". From now on I think I want to deliver comedy as my holiday gift to others. Probably will take me the whole year to figure out how to top this one.

I can't not say it, and this is a whole other topic for another time, but aTm people are so freaking wierd. As soon as I think they're as freaky as they can be, they out-freak themselves.

One of my great pals got engaged last night! Hip Hip Hooray! She's getting married to a fine gentleman who I find nice and hilarious. I can't wait to get the whole scoop on how the romantical event went down. They're San Franciscans. I miss them like crazy on normal days, let alone those where congratulations are in order. Here's them keeping it classy, but also a them in party mode (my favorite mode for them to be in).

Congrats to the happy couple! In prior engagements I used to groan at the news thinking all my friends would turn non-fun when they were wives, but these days I'm more excited. Maybe I'm growing up....wierd.

So as many of you are aware, I have a deep fascination for space and all outer-worldy things like stars, black holes and galaxies. This interest began in college when I took Astronomy for non-science majors (thought it would be a cake walk...WRONG), which continually took my little mind on adventure to the deepest reaches of our galaxy and beyond. This is a pic of professor Gephardt; the image of this man is burned in my mind and occurs to me whenever my brain is about to explode with space wonderment. Yes, he has a ponytail longer than mine. Each lecture left me thirsting for more knowledge and thus only spurred more questions about the abyss outside of Earth. Now I see things in the news and television and am instantly catapulted back to space-think, which really sends me into a tailspin.

Today scientists announced that they've discovered an earth-like planet in a nearby galaxy. It's 40 lightyears away, which is sort of right next door when it comes to space. They believe this "super-Earth" has an atmosphere, probably contains some amount of liquid water and could support life. Here's an illustration of it orbiting its version of our sun. This is an awesome discovery that opens the door to so many cool things. I'm exhilarated.

But, this is just the kind of business that takes me on a mental odyssey. What if this other planet is living in a parallel universe to us? What if they have their own kind of life with their own tales like Twilight and their own kind of pet poodles? What if our whole universe is a fleck of crap under the fingernail (if they even have those) of some beast in a land far far away? It's all ENTIRELY POSSIBLE. What my synapses are doing as I'm thinking about this is unexplainable. It's like someone just lit a strand of firecrackers in my skull...and I can't get enough.

Even just sitting here thinking about it the final frontier is just rocking my little world. With a mind as cluttered with gossip, Gaga and sparkles as mine, this space stuff is unique fodder for contemplation. Kudos to the scientists for discovering this one. Great little break in my normal news consumption. Don't know if I can do any more work today...SPACE BLOWS MY MIND.

Hi. Christmas just got a little merrier. Too bad this isn't real.

I've sort of been meaning to discuss Lady Gaga....so now's a good a time as any. Gaga really puts me into a glass case of emotion. Somedays I'm annoyed at her, some days I'm in love with her. Lately its been more and more annoyed because she is such an attention-whore that it's just ridiculous. She acts like she's so revolutionary, but an attention-seeking popstar isn't anything new (Madonna's "Like a Virgin", Christina Aguilera's appalling "Diiirrrty" video, bald Britney attack (really all Britney behavior) etc...). She is just the 2009 version of famous talented poptart with loose-ish sexuality. C'mon show me something I haven't seen.

But on the other hand. She is just so bizarre I can't look away. So maybe she has hoodwinked us all. And, lest we forget, she produces fabulous and sparkly dance tracks loved by girls and gays the world over. I'm a slave to that and probably will always be. It's a wash.

So Tiger Woods. Where to begin? I’ve been thinking about this topic since the Thanksgiving car crash and have been collecting my thoughts and waiting for things to settle before I react to the matter. The problem with that plan is that every day some new freakish, strange thing comes out. I guess I just can’t wait any longer, the floodgates are still pouring with Tiger smut.

More than anything, his “transgressions” (which is what the news outlets are referring to his sluttines as) just make me sad. Why do famous people do so many bad things? He was one of the few shining bastions of classiness and decorum left in the celebrity world, especially sports (If you’re listening Kobe, Mike Vick, Plaxico, wave your freak flag for a while…nobody is looking at anybody but Tiger). It breaks my heart/spirit, but it is refreshing to hear that the waspy elitists of the golf world aren’t exempt from “transgressions.” Now that things have gotten totally crazy, here are my favorite of the revelations about Tiger’s “secret life” :

• 14 (and counting) women have come forward! I think I may say we had an affair to get my own US Weekly cover…its one of my long-time dreams.
• He likes to have sex on Ambien…WTF?
• He’s an avid sexter and never makes grammatical/spelling error in texts (I know this because I read many of them), kudos on that attention to detail.
• He has accomplices to his infidelity. I cannot fathom how awesome it must be to have a full staff of people to help you be secretly devious. I plan to look into that.

One side of me wishes that the freakiness would just keep pouring out, but really can’t we just leave him alone? He is the master of the fairway, not moral code (obviously). Maybe his indefinite leave from the PGA will send golf pack to ESPN the Ocho channel, keeping televised golf off manfriends radar for a while. If that happens, thanks Tiger.

Yesterday we had our office lunch potluck and gift exchange. There was a cornucopia of delicious things. I even made a specific effort to get to the gym before work so I could really go all in on the mid-day gluttony. One of my co-workers, and the lady who got me to start a blog, made this:

These are cake pops. Inside the exterior of sprinkly goodness is a ball of moist and rich cake. Oh holy hell. There has never been a dish more perfect for me. It's like I was born to partake in these. Here are all the reasons they're awesome: obviously the deliciousness, festive and cute, small portion (if you choose...I ate three) and its a new fantabulous spin on an old favorite. I fully intend to try my hand at these treats for my little cousins at Christmas. Mad props to the culinary genius of co-worker/friend. I like her style.

We also did a "Chinese" gift exchange. We couldn't figure out why it's called this. It felt offensive, as we have a couple Asian-Americans in our click. I've just spent a few minutes trying to come up with a better name, to no avail. Anyway, it's the thing where you draw a number and can pick a gift or steal someone else's. Some people were REAL serious about not having their Starbucks gift card or bottle of wine snatched up. Just relax, this is supposed to be fun. I had the very last number in the whole batch, which is a great place to be strategically. I stole an extremely girly jewelry box from my friend, he was miserable with the thing in his hands. Merry Christmas to him. Helping him may have to be my charitable act for the yule-tide season, and I ended up with a girly trinket that looks fabulous in my apartment. Double score!

Cake Pops + Christmas Cheer + Long Lunch hour + Shiny box = Major Victory of a Thursday.

So, per our usual, the carpoolers and I found ourselves pondering a curious and oddly self-revealing topic and I can’t get it out of my head. Fans of Poodleism, brace yourselves for a bizarre post.

The captain of our pack presented a hypothetical situation for us all to deliberate. If presented with a nude photo of one of our co-workers would we look at it? I’m not exactly sure how this came to the forefront of our chatting agenda, but it’s recurred a few times since.

The co-worker in question is a particularly creepy and skulky man who nobody really knows what to make of. The kind of guy who’s pretty quiet until you accidentally brush him in the hallway and then awkwardly shuffle your feet to make a quick exit from the situation.

If we were in possession of a nude picture of this, would we look? The two girls in the conversation immediately barked “NO WAY JOSE.” But the boys said they’d look. Not would they want to look, but just would they look. Upon further examination of this conundrum, we all reached the decision that we would pretty much look at a nude photograph of anyone if it were just laying on the table in front of us. It’s not a question of the desire to see, but the inability to look away. And I definitely think this is true. If you were presented with the opportunity to see miscellaneous people in everyday life naked, I bet you’d do it. Just for curiosity’s sake.

This brings me to my next question, are we just disgusting freaks or is it the curse of the human race not to be able to resist the sight of others naked? I feel odd about the whole situation, but have given it some thought and I don’t think I’d be able to turn down that opportunity. Wouldn’t ask for it, but wouldn’t say no. I’m wierded out at myself.

Here's my cubicle all Christmas-ed up. Tree, lights, sparkly garland...feels cozy in here (well, almost). ♪ It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas! ♫ If this were a video you'd hear my holiday cheer playlist. Sometimes when "Santa Baby" comes on the playlist I sing it to Edward who's always an armslength away. Note the Wintery tin on the shelf. It was once full of 5 lbs of chocolate covered popcorn. Now there are around 4 kernels. FML.

Another random tidbit...This is a blooper shot from last year's Christmas card photoshoot. The Prince and I got all gussied up in our Holiday best to take our card picture. My friend, the camera-woman, was over with her Dachsund, Dignan. Dignan lept into the frame and Chuy got so mad/jealous that he snarled and bit Dignan. I felt like Michael Vick in the middle of it all. This year I'm hoping the Prince minds his manners at Christmastime. Maybe he just thought Dignan was going to drink all the Egg Nog. I'd probably bite him too.

Continued Merry Chirstmas to all!

My feelings about Lady GaGa are a mixed bag these days, but the radio has started playing Lady Gaga's "Christmas Tree" again (it's from last year) and I CAN'T. GET. ENOUGH.

One wierd thing that occurd to me is that this track and video are so GaGa-licious, meaning so bizarre, strange, absurd....and FABULOUS. It's from last year, which means when it came out we hadn't seen any of the other GaGa-licious things of 2K9, which was a real doozy for her absurdity. This is all the more awesome given the timeframe. It's Christmas. It's Gaga. Loves it.

Yesterday manfriend and I went so see a brilliant little movie called Pirate Radio on the recommendation of my dad, who tends to be a harsh critic. For him to like a movie enough to suggest it to me is sort of a big deal. So we went. And yes, we partook in the earlybird special again, and were the only ones in the movie theater.

The movie was fantabulous. It's all about British radio stations prohibiting rock 'n roll radio stations in the 1960's. Yes, this is a ridiculous notion as that was the heyday for British rock. To address this, radio stations would broadcast from the ocean aboard ships. These ships amounted to a swingin' good time and that's sort of what the movie's all about. That and the cultural revolution through which the rock radio was legalized in the UK.

It was fabulous. The characters were funny, serious, dynamic and well-acted. I love British people and their hilarious antics. The music was also obviously to die for. For the first time in a while I'm contemplating an actual compact disc purchase -- the soundtrack.

Another great find of this movie, the hopeless and naive main character, Carl. He's the character who comes of age in this tale and is one steamy 'lil sexpot. Real life name is Tom Sturridge. (Just learned on IMDB that I'm older than this person. Can't say I'm surprised but I don't know at what point the hearthrobs I love became jailbait...boo) Watch out R-Patz. This little starlet is tousled, sexy and ready to steal your tweens. He's no Edward, but he gives R-Patz a run for his money on the hot-o-meter for sure. I predict we'll see more of him.

All things considered, I recommend this flick to everyone, especially music lovers.

Last night me and manfriend, plus two other couples, made our way to the Dallas Stars game. Manfriend and his two buddies that came along are all ex hockey players and avid fans so they were out in full force. For me, it was my first time to see hockey, NHL or otherwise, in real life, so obviously I went into observational sponge mode. I live for little cultural experiences and chances to observe people.

First things first. I guess I sort of knew it going into the thing, but hockey games are played in giant room full of ice. I thought that since we were in the nosebleeds it would be like any other sporting event, and boy was I wrong. It was cold enough that I never removed my overcoat or scarf. I pretty much spent the whole event shivering. I couldn’t even comfortably grasp my drink to try to get on my beer jacket. Note for next time: dress as if I’m headed to Antarctica for two hours.

After the second period during halftime/intermission/two-thirds-is-over-break (or whatever you call it) they interviewed one of the players. He was ridiculously unable to speak our language…I couldn’t figure out what the deal was with this Norlandic man on the jumbotron. I later learned the NHL is swimming with Scandinavians. Who knew? Funny quip from manfriend: He observed that some extra-thug football players are even harder to understand – and English is their first language! Ha.

The Cheerleading/Whoring group for the Stars are the Planet Tan® Dallas Ice girls. These girls really didn’t do anything. They skated out and swept up the snow on the ice with bare midriffs and cleavage showing. Skating across the pristine white ice rink they were so tan it was just dumb. They also looked ridiculous. Did I mention that it’s a room full of ice? There were a small pack of them, the A-team of the bunch I presume, doing little shakes/dances between plays, but the majority of it was bouncy Hairography (Hair + Choreography), one of my biggest pet peeves of all time. They are all that is wrong with this world. Maybe I’m just still pissed about the Pear-Shaped thing.

Another funny tidbit: After the Stars score a goal they had a soundbite wherein a deep Barry White-like voice boomed through the arena, "THE WHEELS ARE OFF." I fully intend to use that in my everyday life when things get a little out of control.

All in all, I enjoyed my NHL experience. I felt right at home with the hockey moms and Joe Six Packs (the semi-rough crowd was decidedly Arian, blue-collar and extremely intoxicated, but I don’t know if I want to go there) up in the upper deck. I’ll definitely go back again, as the sport is fun to watch, but wielding a parka and some blow darts to aim at the Ice Girls.

My colleague (I’m trying out this new word, its fancy talk for “work friend”) and I were skimming the pages of the December issue of Glamour, one of my favorite women’s magazines because it’s full of shiny things as well as articles that tickle my noodle. Here’s the cover, with Michelle Obama wearing shiny things – fabulous editorial decision on their part to attract the “thinking women” and the “women who like shiny things.” Worked on us.

This is something about women’s magazines that has irked me for years but stirred the debate pot in the cubicle bay yesterday: What is up with the little stories that teach you how to dress for your body type? Every single label they give the body types is so freaking mean. Why don't they tell us what type Michelle Obama is, or whatever flawless starlet is on the cover? They've gotta have their own body image demons. See the snapshot of the actual spread below (Yes, they’ve literally put a red box around her “problem area”).

It’s just so mean. Why haven’t those Dove people on the crusade for real beauty sunk their friend-chicken-chompin’ teeth into this one? I’d re-name the body titles to these:

Plus Size – Lots to love, and even more to offer

Boy Shaped – Curves, who needs ‘em?

Pear Shaped – Hippy and fabulous

Busty (seems like it would be positive but the girl is always fat) – Boobilicious

Admittedly, everyone who falls into these categories – which is every woman operating in the real world -- isn’t thrilled about their particular “problem area,” and the article has good intentions, but calling someone “Boy Shaped”, really? Isn’t that like the ultimate slam? As a sidenote, I fall into the “Pear Shaped” category and it infuriates me to no end. This “pear” label always seems to pop into my mind when I try on clothes that don’t quite look right. The pear really isn’t a silhouette I want to resemble.

Damn you popular media. I wish I had the strength of mind to boycott you. But if I did, what would I think/blog about?

Turkey Day was fabulous. Delicious meal, nice family time and I reunited with the Prince (he’s been in Houston for a month while I’ve been jet-setting around the country. Great time, but I’m totally over it. IT’S CHRISTMASTIME NOW!

I saw this commercial for the first time this year yesterday, which means holiday time is upon us all. I heart this commercial. It’s a little pop culture tidbit that signifies holiday spirit and joy for me. Effective immediately, I’m in full-time Christmas mode. It’s all Chirstmas, all the time. In previous years manfriend has found my behavior “a little bit insane.” It’s go time boyfriend, so just get on board.

The following items are on my to-do list for the week to kick of the holiday time:

1. Revamp my holiday sweater collection to include new 2009 additions.
2. Decorate apartment and cubicle to be the most festive/obnoxious possible.
3. Brainstorm Christmas card ideas for me and the prince. He tends to only be willing to do one take, so any photoshoot must be well orchestrated.
4. Go to a mall to absorb the Christmasy-ness.
5. Buy egg nog.
6. Try to get my little butt to the gym so I don’t resemble the actual Santa Claus as much as last year.

There will be more updates to come, so just know that festivity is in all of your future. Merry Merry Christmas Poodleism-ers!

Although Thanksgiving isn’t until tomorrow, I’ve been thinking all week about all the awesome things I have to be thankful for on top of my normal thank you’s for health and prosperity. Here’s a quick run-down:

A fabulous family and manfriend. 2009 has had some bumpy parts. I never would’ve made it to another Turkey Day with out them. Hopefully next year they’ll be thankful for my love and support, I’ve been the needy one this year.

The prince. He can’t read blogs, so I’ll just communicate my thanks to him with treats and cuddles. He keeps me sane. Sometimes I get stressed out and my precious little companion makes me happy.

My friends. Although some of my BFFs are afar these days, I’m thankful that they love me enough to text, call, chat…whatever. I need their thoughts to keep on truckin’ sometimes. New friends have made me feel so welcome and at home in Dallas. I appreciate that and should tell them more.

I’m one lucky little lady to have a job that I like going to everyday. This time last year I wasn’t a happy camper professionally. I’ve come along way, and I’m grateful to have a job at all. Also thanks to the carpoolers for being such good new Dallas friends.

I’m also thankful for these more frivolous items that bring smiles to my face: delicious chocolatey treats, the sweet sweet music of Beyonce, gChat, Gossip Girl, goat cheese, Twilight, the dog park at my apartment building, and NBC Thursday night programming.

Now that the thanks are out of the way, my focus will be on sweet potatoes and pie for the next couple of days.

Sunday morning I went to see New Moon. I thought that 11:00 a.m. on a Sunday would be the best time to eliminate screaming tweens from my New Moon experience so I could absorb it to my fullest capabilities. It also only costs $5 to see a movie before noon. I don’t even want to approach how old it makes me feel to be avoiding crowds and tickets prices like this. But, I digress…. It’s taken me the full 72 hours to synthesize my thoughts on the matter.

My general read is that the movie was spectacular. There wasn’t anything left out of the book. And it’s a long book. You got all the details that the first movie lacked. It was amazing. I shrieked like a girl when Edward first came on screen. I guess I’m the person I was trying to avoid at the earlybird special. The effects were awesome. There was, magic, fighting, a band of werewolves, sexual tension galore; all the things I love about Twilight were there.

One nice bonus was Taylor Lautner (Jacob Black in the movie). That boy literally transformed himself into a whole other thing. He was the steamiest sexiest thing I’ve seen in a long time. Like it made me uncomfortable to be looking at him in a crowded theater. And he's only like 16 years old. I’m confused about whether I’m on Team Edward still….who am I kidding, Edward is my only true love in Forks. But fabulous showing from Taylor Lautner. Bravo.

I only have one knock. The movie was so incredibly intense. Every single memorable powerful line of dialogue from the book was included, but without the 100-page buildup that make it possible in text. This amounted to 2 hours of the most tortured, passionate, dangerous…and thus exhausting, hours of my life. At times I felt like I was going to have a heart attack. But that could’ve been the in-movie latte.

All the drama caused manfriend to cackle in delight. I don’t think we really got the same sort of experience, but he was a good sport. Guess I owe him a couple Monday Night footballs in return.

Hurry up and get here Eclipse, I’m waiting. And I promise I'll put Twilight to bed on Poodleism until then.

So I just returned from an actual business trip and am confused about when I became this jet-setting person (Miami to Dallas to Boston to Dallas in 5 days), but I think I like it.

My boss invited me to Boston to present our company to a prospective client. We went up there the day before the meeting so to be fresh and rejuvenated fro the meeting. We flew 1^st class, which was a cornucopia of awesome-ness in itself, but there really isn’t much more awkward than traveling alone with a 60 year old married man who is also your boss. Trust me, it’s the ultimate recipe for being ill at ease.

All the discomfort aside, I think I did really awesome in our presentation and he finally maybe thought that I’m not some young idiot with heartthrobs (Hello, Edward) splattered all over my cubicle. I’m really proud of my little professional stride, and hopefully it will translate into a bonus. I loved feeling like a smart, professional, large-and-in-charge lady on the go (Playing in my head all day long: ♫“I’m every woman, its all in MEEEEEEEEE” ♪).

When I got back home to my apartment at the end of the day, I looked down at myself in a full business suit, with my rollerbag and laptop case, and wondered “Who am I” (cue Zoolander puddle reflection moment). I find it infinitely humorous that I was more comfortable in my Tweedle Dee costume than in my adult costume. A good pal at work told me to “Fake it ‘til I make it,” which is pretty good advice. I guess I’m still faking it, but maybe not.

As a side note, I'm one lucky little ducky. Manfriend was so proud he greeted me with flowers and wine. Maybe he was rewarding me for finally growing up a little....Either way, it was mega sweet.

I look forward to the next trip, but I’m not ready to give up Edward in my cubicle. So take that!!!

Oh Miami. Where to start?

By far the best aspect of my tropical getaway was all the fun and debauchery with two of my BFFFs. It was great to go see the new paradise-like home of my pal. I don't have any flipping clue how she is a successful medical student there. All of Miami (or at least my short party-loaded time there) is like going on vacation.

We got to go to the beach twice! The first time it was in the evening, so the tide was high and kind of erradic. The waves crashed up and got us all soaked and washed manfriend's shoes away with the water. We got them back, but wet sandy sneakers isn't a party. There really isn't much more humbling than having the ocean literally sneak up on you. I think I was just drunk on the paradise-ness.

Another fabulous thing was meeting the first (or so I assume) stranger fan of Poodleism. He's Andrea's good pal. He's super nice. He's a cubano. He clearly appreciates excelently crafted wit. He's fabulous.

All in all, I wish I could jet set around the coutnry to visit my loved ones and make new friends more often. I guess that kind of goes without saying. Great time. Needed the vacay.

¡Bienvenido a Miami! (press play on the video below before you proceed for the themesong...if you can't tell, I'm proud of newfound ability include video)

Today I'm furiously preparing for a hotly anticipated vacay to Miami to visit one of my all time favorite BFFs for her birthday. Below is her being her hilarious self. Another BFF and all three manfriends will be coming along too. It should be a reunion for the ages, except unfortunately one crucial member of our posse couldn't make it from NYC. Booo. We'll have to settle for a tripod.

Anyway, today my mind is wandering into dreamland imagining all the copious amounts of spiciness and fun in my future. There will be memory-making, debauchery and hopefully tropical paradise-inspired cocktails. I hope I see at least one Cubana rollerblading down Southbeach wearing a thong bikini (Hell, it may even be me!). I don't know why, but that's just what I imagine Miami to be like. I hope its true.

More than the fun, I'm so stinking excited to see my true besties from college that I can barely stand it. I'm so not adjusted to the real world, or my new Dallas life really, and being in my comfy place with my friends means so much to me these days. I can't. flipping. wait. It feels like its my birthday!

Whatever happens....I'M IN MIAMI TRICK.

Hello Veterans! Don't know if this will reach any of you...but I want to say thanks. Me and the prince couldn't enjoy all of the delightful things we could with out you, so from us both...THANKS A MILLION! If any of you were here today, I assure you, the prince would do this:

Note: the man greets the dog before the wife, who is filming. That's what I'm talkin' bout. There are alot more cute-alicious puppy Veteran's day things where that came from.

Special shout out to my Pa-Paw and Granddad for fighting for us in WWII. (Probably the only way this message would reach them was if Bill O'Reilly was reading it, which wouldn't even happen over my dead body, but it's the thought that counts) And thanks more for getting back safely so I could be born some day. Without you veterans we wouldn't have some great things. As much as it irritates me sometimes, there would be no Bill O'Reilly, no Congress to fight about healthcare, no voting on the congressmen we put in there to duke it out. Deep down those are some awesome things. Heart you veterans.

Today an interesting little news item splatted onto the metaphorical windshield that is my seemingly limitless threshold for useless knowledge: Some smartie at BBC found an Austrialian psychology study that says being grumpy actually improves one’s mental clarity. Halleluja! Read it here. It’s quite interesting.

Some days just swoop in an poop all over you. Today I'm having one of those. I'm still trying my darndest to be in holiday mode. 5:30 p.m. is creeping to me slowly. I suspect there will be more tsunamis between now and then but I remain optimistic. This is my compatriot/teammember/carpool partner. We are in the midst of one of those poop-shower kind of days. Things have briefly slowed down and I choose to take a mental break on my blog and she chooses to become a human pretzel, which brings me immense giggles. She's younger and smaller than me. If I could contort myself like this I would. I'd probably get a back-ache. FML.

Me and manfriend are trying to be Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum for the Saturday night festivities. It’s been more difficult than I imagined to find the proper parts of the costume. Don’t want to release any spoilers…more on that later. It was only an accident to be characters from Alice in Wonderland two years in a row. Last time around we did Alice and the Mad Hatter. That one will be hard to top. We’ll see. I’ve been around to every Halloween shop in the area and this is what I’m thinking are my favorite things about Halloween:

1. Costumes made for infants and/or pets. They are all about the same. All are stinkin’ too cute for words. If I had a tot it would be wearing this.

2. CANDY. Can’t. get. enough. I also love feeling valid in eating total crap because it’s a “holiday.”

3. Jack-o-lanterns. I think they’re so cool. At what other time can you make a vegetable a spooky, yet classic, decoration for any space? See photo of cubicle. These are the things I wish didn’t exist at Halloween time:

1. Whore-bag costumes. Why must all costumes for women be super slutty and modeled by porn stars. Hate that.

2. CANDY. Worried about my Tweedle Dee sweatpants fitting. Thank heavens they’re sweatpants.

3. Decorations that are actually really scary. I recently set off a motion-sensored bloody corpse that jumped out of its coffin to scare me. I peed a little and had nightmares. It was awkward.

All in all, I heart Halloweentime.

This is a snapshot of the prince and I the night I got him! What a precious little pup. I’m reminded of this night because someone in my office came in today with a brand new kitty he’s adopting. Oh the memories. I wasn’t going to bring this story to the blogosphere, but with a kitten around I can't help but think of my own little baby and it was a pretty big deal:

This weekend the scariest of my life happened. Me, manfriend and the prince were enjoying a nice sunshiny walk on Katy Trail, a fabulous jogging path near my apartment. We’d only strolled about a quarter of a mile and something came over the prince. He sat down in the middle of the trail and refused to move. This is not uncommon, he’s a stubborn little bugger at times. Then things got scary. He sort of collapsed and went totally limp and lifeless.

Manfriend sprung into action and ran back to the apartment to get the car. I was left alone with a limp poodle in the most crucial minutes. This was excruciating. I don’t want to go into the details, which are horrifying. We rushed him to the emergency vet and they wisked him to the back to be revived. At this point I thought the prince may be dead. They determined that he had some sort of allergic reaction to cause him to go into acute shock and possibly death.

Never fear, the prince was saved. But, only after a few hours in ICU, an overnight hospital stay, and 24-hours of observation and medications. I really never have been so overwhelmed with worry/fear in my life. To all the parents of actual babies out there, bless your hearts. I just caught a quick glimpse of how serious and worrisome it must be to have a tot.

Even days later, the image of his sick little body is burned into my mind. The prince is my world. He depends on me implicitly for everything he needs. Bad day, but the little fartknocker is back to being my favorite partner in crime.

I’m a Twi-hard and I’m proud of it. I’ve been trying to organize my thoughts about Twilight since the insemination of Poodleism. I think I’m ready to go there.

It's TX/OU weekend. Pretty much everyone reading this is aware of the all the fun, and undoubtedly ridiculousness that will occur. Although I'm thriled for the spirit, the partying, the coordinated game-day outfits....I'm approaching this Longhorn holiday with a bittersweet attitude. I miss all my homies who are afar this year. I can't help but be reminded of years past when I was surrounded by all my besties. Totes miss those days. Here's a pic from last year. I wish I could find a more throwback one (although, I don't know if I want to face how skinny I was on the first TX/OU weekend at age 18).

Another sort of off-the-wall thing for today. Today for lunch I ate for the first time ever in my life Ramen noodles. Cruisin’ at my local Kroger a pricetag that said 16¢ caught my eye and I couldn’t pass it up.

Side distraction: me and my colleagues just debated why the cents symbol ( ¢ ) isn’t used very often these days. I believe it’s wandered into obsolescence because of inflation. So few things cost less than one dollar that the up-and-coming generation of purchasers will have no need for it. A wiser man than I thought that it’s because for whatever reason the cents symbol didn’t get a key on the modern keyboard so people never think of it. I guess when we scrapped the typewriter we threw out some of the keys too. It seems unfair, but I bet he’s right. Honestly seeing the cents sign is what caused me to pull over my grocery cart.

Back on track: given these hard times we live in, and that I’m totally strapped for cash because I just can’t seem to lay off buying sparkly things of various sorts, I’ve begun to bargain hunt like never before. This is what attracted me to the Ramen. I don’t know if it never appealed to me, or I believed I was above a 16¢ dinner, or what, but I’m converted. It was one of the more fabulous finds of recent memory. I don’t know how I got through my college years without sampling it, but now my lunchtime fare is headed to a whole new place. I want to get to the store to try all the flavors now. This first purchase was an experiment (I’m wondering now why I didn’t just grab a few of the things since they’re so economical. I was probably trying to save money, so I skipped the extra Ramen to get another Lean Cuisine, which has a $3.00 pricetag. Hahaha).

Nonetheless, it’s the little things in life that make the days go by. Things like Ramen, fabulous nail polish colors, tame poodles and episodes of Seinfeld on late night TV that I’ve actually never seen make my world go ‘round. I’m in my cube with a tummy full of warm sodium-saturated tastiness and I couldn’t be happier. Please suggest other budget-smart items if you have them. I just went to a whole new realm of open mindedness. I’m a little mad at my old ultra-quick meal standbys (Lean cuisine, easy mac, hot pockets) for being so expensive.

This morning, me, my coffee and my breakfast were doing our morning wake-up routine. Email, CNN, little Tweeting and obviously creeping on the Facebook to get the day rolling. I found an article that I’ve been waiting to see for months. Thank Heavens! That scumbag Jon Gosselin is FINALLY leaving Jon and Kate plus 8.

I love this show. I’ve been a fan of it from the beginning and the recent muckraking, whilst heartbreaking when I consider the precious little tots, has engaged my appetite for trashy gossip more than most stories (Competes only with the off-camera goings on of the Gossip Girl and Twilight starlets…swoon). It’s been hard for me not to bring my frequent editorial comments on this story to the blogosphere. But this I can’t ignore.

Why in the world did it take TLC this freaking long to remove him from their network? I was on Team Jon at first, as I believe Kate has a slew of personality flaws herself, but he has done everything possible to disappoint me…and America (boom, Roasted). The womanizing, the ear piercing, the extravagant partying, the global vacations…TRYING TO GIVE AWAY THE DOGS. I hate him. As a rule of thumb, I never trust anyone wearing anything Ed Hardy. I want to boycott him from my consciousness (I wish I had that the power to boycott various things from my consciousness: Miley Cyrus, mayonnaise, various indiscretions, etc.), but sadly I lack that magic. I want the Duggars to host a moral intervention with him. Thats good television.

The funniest part of it all is that now they’ll be calling the show just “Kate plus 8”. This brings me immeasurable giggles.. That woman is dying for a re-branding. Name of the show, hairstyle, snippity personality, come on lady change with the times.

That’s all. Just wanted to weigh in on a nonsense cultural item. If only you all knew how many more I have a brewin’.

In the interest of explaining why my Poodleisms have been stretched a little thin lately, I’ll take this chance to share about where I spend a lot of time these days…in my cubicle, or as I prefer to think about it….The Pleasuredome.