At the old ball game

On Sunday afternoon, I went with my sister and some of our girlfriends to a Dodgers game.

I spent much of the time talking about myself and admiring my new ring as it sparkled in the sunlight. And then the rest of the time I performed my usual baseball-watching routine, which does not entail any actual game watching.

I think starting from when I was a little girl, going to watch our local team, the Chiefs (who later became the Sky Chiefs during the late 90s when everyone got all P.C.), I've watched a total of 40 minutes of baseball games.

So what exactly do I spend my time doing? Let me offer you a breakdown.


(click to enlarge)

As you can see, only a small percentage of time is spent doing The Wave, but these few minutes require a lot of energy. When you see The Wave heading your way, you must move your nacho tray off your lap, secure your beer, alert your friends. It's a lot of work, and this is precisely why baseball fans will only put up with two consecutive rounds of The Wave. We noticed on Sunday that the first wave is thrilling, the second wave is impressive, but by the third time you see it coming your way, you groan and stay seated in protest.

And to clarify the green area on the chart, Trying to Find the Funny Looking Person My Friends are Pointing Out In the Stands, this is what happens when your friend next to you goes, "Oh my God, look at that guy!"
"Who? Where?"
"Right down there." Points to the seats to your left, where approximately 20,000 people are seated. "He's wearing a big sombrero."
"Where?"
"Down there. There!" Your friend frantically stabs the air with her pointed finger.
"I don't see--"
"Two rows away from the guy in the bright orange shirt."
"I don't see him either."
"You can't miss him."
"I know, but I just."
"Look where I'm pointing."
"I see where you're pointing, I just don't see the guy in the orange shirt."
"Ok," your friend sighs and then tries another approach. "Do you see that big pole?"
"Big pole?"
"Oh come on it's right there. Right there. The big pole."
"Oh yeah that pole. Right."
"Ok now look at the pole, and then look about 3 seats over. See him?"
"Oh wait wait yeah, I see him. I see the orange guy, but now where's the guy in the sombrero?"
"He's like two rows up from the guy in the orange."
"Oh! Got him! Yeah, that is funny..."
"It's not any more."

Exsqueeze me? Uh, baking powder?

That is the title you get after I somehow managed to watch Wayne's World twice this weekend, and Wayne's World 2 about one and a half times.

I was going to write more about how I'm engaged and show a picture of the ring after several requests to see it. But first I have to tell you about the proprietor of FakeTV and how he is pissed.

Last week, to fill up space and get out some random thoughts, I wrote this little throwaway post where I talked about American Idol, and then went on to talk about this product I'd just heard about called FakeTV. It's a little device you put in your home and it gives the illusion, to ne'er-do-wells and cat burglars lurking outside, that a tough and savvy person is awake and watching TV inside, so they best not try to break in. It looks like a real TV, but it's not. Get it? Get it? You sure?

I haven't bothered to go back and re-read that post to see exactly what I said about FakeTV, but the gist of it was that I didn't really see the point of it and, more importantly, that the website over-explained the workings of the wondrous invention.

It seemed, from most of the comments I received on that post, that people agreed with my assessment of FakeTV.

But a comment appeared today that stood out from the rest. A comment from someone using the handle FakeTV Mfr. Yes, FakeTV Manufacturer (or FakeTV Muthafucka, I suppose).

He says:

"You still need good locks, and a light on a timer remains a good idea. Stop the paper and mail when you are out of town, and get to know your neighbors - that gives you the extra benefit of a more-connected life. That said, the light from an operating television looks "alive", really conveys the impression that someone must be watching it.

But, if you think FakeTV (or a light on a timer) is a really, really, stupid idea, well, we more cautious types need someone to redirect the burglars to. "

To which I say, "Exsqueeze me? Uh, baking powder?"

Clearly this person spends his or her (but probably his...there is something unmistakably guy-like about this petulance) time perusing the internet looking for people who have commented on the FakeTV.

I googled FakeTV and my blog post doesn't come up until the 5th page of search results. But it's there, amongst many other articles and product reviews. And FakeTV Mfr found me.

Is it just me or does it sound like he is wishing that burglars descend upon my home? "We more cautious types need someone to redirect the burglars to. "

I did briefly entertain the idea that this comment was a prank. But I just don't think anyone I know or anyone who reads my blog could pull of such an accurate interpretation of what the inventor of FakeTV would sound like.

And since I don't suspect that FakeTV Mfr is going to stop googling "FakeTV" any time soon, I have a feeling he will come across this response to his comment.

And so, this is to you, FakeTV Mfr.

Look, I am not a mean person and I don't think your product is stupid. I just don't really see it as super revolutionary. But I'm sure you worked really hard coming up with the concept, and designing the prototype, and getting the financial backing to launch this endeavor and market it properly. And I have never invented anything ever (except for these buffalo fake-chicken patties I've been making lately and they probably aren't even that original) so I guess I don't know how much work goes into it.

So please take back your wishes that your FakeTV users will redirect burglars to my home. My home is where I keep all of my shit and I'd like my shit to stay there. Thank you.

No hard feelings, I hope, FakeTV Mfr. Thanks for taking a moment to read this rebuttal.

-HS

News

Saturday turned out to be another one of those perfect Saturdays when I move effortlessly from one fun event to the next. I met with my running group, then came home to discover I had the place to myself, which always means I take the opportunity to watch stupid romantic comedies and episodes of Sex & The City. This time, I watched Ms. Potter. (I feel dumb, but when I decided to watch that movie I was thinking that Beatrix Potter was the woman who wrote Mary Poppins, and then five minutes into the movie when Ms. Potter referred to Peter Rabbit, I started thinking she was the woman who wrote Winnie The Pooh...and then like 10 minutes later I realized she wrote The Tale Of Peter Rabbit. Anyway.)

Then I went out to get my hair cut. And then I met my darling friend Shannon for lunch. And then I stuffed myself full of avocado eggrolls from Cheesecake Factory and washed them down with two mojitos. Then I followed Shannon around Urban Home while she bought stuff for her apartment.

Then I got home, and while holding my stomach and moaning about the size of my foodbaby and how I thought at any moment I might barf and how I am a total fat ass, I bombarded Devin with the story of how I'd found the perfect couch while I was out and it is on sale. But he didn't seem terribly interested and so I wandered into the bedroom, where I was alarmed to find that the attached bathroom reeked from the litter box. So as I continued rubbing my giant belly and wailing about how full I was and about the disgusting state of the bathroom, Devin came into the bedroom. And sat on the bed. And handed me the most beautiful ring I have ever seen in my life. And proposed.

Yes, turns out someone is willing to spend the rest of his life dealing with me.

Seriously!

I'm engaged!

Starting off with a bang. And a hat.

Tomorrow morning at 7am I meet with my running group. This is part of my ridiculous plan to run a half marathon.

Last Saturday was our big kick off meeting. In preparation for this, I'd run about 90 miles in the previous week (exaggeration) so that when we went out for our first run, I'd be able to keep up and look like an awesome athletic person.

The last time I attempted to train for a marathon, I went to the first meeting and we were asked to split into 3 groups: Runners, Walkers, and Run/Walkers. I guessed I'd be able to keep up with the running group, and so I stood with them, trying not to look down on the walkers.

Then as we trotted off to the road and began our run, at what I'd already judged as too fast a pace, the coach yelled back to the group "We'll be doing about 5 miles today." All nonchalant.

Pretending I was trying to fix some randomly broken thing on my ipod, I slowed down and let the group go ahead of me. And then I fell in with the Run/Walkers, where I stayed for the next few months until I just stopped coming to the meetings.

So fearing a repeat of last time, I was all ready to go at least (what I mean is at most) 5 miles for the kickoff meeting on Saturday.

And do you know how far we went?

1 mile.

So I got to look like a super star, staying at the front of the pack, right by the coach's side.

This came right after my first super star moment of the meeting. During the blahblahblah about fundraising, the Director of Train To End Stroke announced that three people had already passed their 25% fundraising goal. And among them....me!

So thank you to everyone who donated! You have made me look awesome! I'm now at about 50% of my $2100 goal.

The three of us were rewarded with team hats. The kind of hats that real runners wear. And I wore mine as I ran ahead of the whole group, feeling like I was the shit.

[This arrogance will wear off in a few weeks when we're doing longer runs and I have to devise some kind of plan to duck behind a bush, then take a short cut to the finish line, where I will wait for everyone else and when they arrive I'll be leaning against a tree, eating an apple. "What took you guys so long?"]

When I got home, I showed off my fabulous real runner hat to Devin and then put it away.

And shortly thereafter, Seamus ate it.

Now, before you go thinking my dog is a real jerk for digging my precious hat out of a drawer and destroying it, you should know that he has inadvertently been trained to attack hats. I won't name names but someone has been giving him old 7th Heaven hats as improvised chew toys to keep him busy while he's at the office.

Anyway, I think I can fix it with duct tape.

American Idol Is Not Fake TV. And I Mean That Literally.

Last night my sister was at our apartment and requested that we watch the finale of American Idol. Or, at least flip over to Fox during the commercial breaks of whatever else we were watching. Or, at the very very least, watch the end when they announce the winner.

"Fiiiiine," I sighed, because I am clearly too good for American Idol mania. "What is it, like a half hour?"
"No, it's two hours."
"Two!? Two hours! What do they do for two hours?"

And so we checked in with Idol, and the two Davids as finalists, and then switched the channel for a second to Keith Olbermann (Devin's favorite thing ever). And then back to Idol for just a second, but it was on commercial, so then we got caught up in some special about Sasquatch (Devin's other favorite thing ever).

But then Devin left to go to our neighbor's apartment to watch the Laker game and so I kept it on Idol. And in a matter of seconds I was sucked in. "Oooooh Seal is performing. I love him!" "Who's that fat girl with the dumb hair?" "Oh I like that guy, why did he get voted off?"

"Yay a medley of George Michael songs!" Commence dancing and singing. "I will be your father figure put your tiny hand in mine. I will be your preacher teacher, anything you had in mind."

I really can not believe how much I was in love with this show. Maybe when the next season starts up in a week or whenever, I'll watch it from the beginning.

American Idol: Not just for idiots and senior citizens.

And speaking of idiots and senior citizens, yesterday my friend sent me the link to a website called FakeTV.com. What is FakeTV, you wonder? Well the website provides you with this visual aid.



What more can I say? This stupid FakeTV looks like a real TV is on in your home. As the website goes on to explain:

"Most televisions turn on with push buttons and do not work with timers. Burglars know this, making FakeTV very effective!"

So you see, more than any alarm system or hidden safe, FakeTV will protect your home and valuables from burglars who are afraid of operating television sets.

You may think you have all of the information you need to understand how this little gem works. You plug it in, it turns on at night while you're out, it looks like a TV is on and so robbers think you're home.

But FakeTV is certain that you can't quite grasp the concept of their product, so they offer a More Info page. I feel that anyone who needs to read something titled "More on FakeTV" might also be the sort of person who requires a "More on Sandwiches" page.

On this page, they go on to assure you that FakeTV is "New Realism in Occupancy Simulation." They also explain how to use a FakeTV.

"Place FakeTV where it will light up a room, but you cannot see the FakeTV unit itself. A second floor room is ideal, but a first floor room with translucent shades or blinds works fine, too. Then, each evening at dusk FakeTV's built-in light sensor will turn the unit on."

And then they offer a video of FakeTV in action. Then they explain why even this video is too inferior to clearly demonstrate FakeTV.

"This gives you an idea of what the FakeTV itself looks like, but not really the effect. To see that, you want to look at the room that FakeTV is illuminating. To know what that looks like, just turn on your television in a dark room, and look at the wall opposite the TV.

For this clip, we chose a short time when the FakeTV unit happened to be very active. Other times, and just like a real television, FakeTV is relatively static. We allowed no telltale signs that would permit a prowler to tell whether or not this was the real thing, even if he was looking for it."

So trust the City of Sugarland, Texas, you need to get yourself a FakeTV.

Me Myself and I

Over the weekend, my dad called. He began our conversation with, "So bad fires out there in California again, huh?"

"Fires?" I asked, not really focused as I was driving to the nail salon and trying to make a u-turn at that very moment.

"Yeah. Forest fires."

"I hadn't heard," I laughed a little, "Guess I don't know what's going on."

"Oh well. Why should you if they're not affecting you? I guess," my dad responded. I think he was being sincere and trying to make me feel better. I hope he wasn't picking on me.

"So your mother talked to Sabrina the other day. You remember Sabrina, right? She was one of her old students?" Yes, I did remember her. Phew, I wasn't totally failing this conversation. "Well she's back in China now and apparently that earthquake hit her town really hard."

Earthquake...earthquake...what earthquake? Eh...

"Oh no," I responded. I may not have known what he was talking about, but this was still bad news.

I faked my way through the rest of the earthquake talk. I was glad to hear that Sabrina and her family were fine. But I was annoyed with myself for having no clue what was happening in the rest of the world.

Note to self: Google China earthquake

Or what was happening in my own city, for that matter.

Note to self: Google California wild fires.

Indeed, I would say that most of the time, if something doesn't include me, or immediately affect me, or isn't happening right in front of my face, I am completely oblivious to it.

And this is terrible. TERRIBLE!

This is no way to go through life. All caught up in my own ridiculous imagination and redundant affairs and pathetic complaints.

The week before Mothers Day, it took me til Thursday to actually go out and buy a card. Why did I wait until so late? No reason. I kept forgetting I had to go out and do it.

And then on Mothers Day, when I phoned my mom, she reminded me that it was also my late grandmother's birthday. Did I know that? No, of course not.

I'm pretty sure that Devin must love me for qualities other than my knowledge of world news (Cooking abilities? Eye candy? Split the rent with him?) because I can not hold a conversation about politics or the economy or the war.

Note to self: Google Carl Rove
Google Blackwater
Google "Difference between Senate and House of Representatives"

Every night I come home from work, see news footage of a candidate on a podium somewhere and ask Devin, "Is there another primary today?"
"Yes."
"Ugh, how many are there?!"
"Well, there's one for every state."
"Oh, right."

So I ask myself, when did I become so self-absorbed? And, more importantly, why did I become so self-absorbed when the life I lead is neither fascinating nor complicated? It's a happy life, but it's a dull one. I mean, Paul McCartney led a much more interesting life than I, but at least he knew what was going on in India, right?

It would probably be entertaining to know about something, anything else.

And yet it is so much easier to stay in my bubble. And not know what is happening in the world, or in my neighborhood, or in the minds of people I know and care about.

I'm such a winner. Am I the only person who feels stuck in my own head all the time?

Fashion Tips

This past Saturday was the sort of Saturday I always try to have every weekend. I don't make any plans, and I just go from one fun activity to the next. It started by meeting with my running group, followed by mani/pedis with some girlfriends, followed by pitchers of margaritas.

By 7, I was looking for the next big thing, so I insisted to Devin that we go try this new pub that opened nearby. I'd spotted it while jogging earlier in the week and the shamrocks on the sign led to me believe this place would be promising.

And so we went, Devin and I and my sister and our friend Kesila. Turns out, the bar was fun. And I was relieved that Devin liked it. Thus bringing the total number of bars in L.A. that Devin will go in without throwing a fit to 5. Hooray!

I was in a fabulous mood because I had my newly painted nails and because the bar wasn't crowded so we had free reign over the jukebox. Also, I was wearing my new favorite thing: my black cotton dress. I bought it a few weeks ago from Target (hey big spender!) and it was flattering and simple and comfortable in the summer heat.

But all day long, I'd been worried about the straps on my dress. They were thin and one of them was getting really worn down already from a few rounds in the laundry. During beer #1, while I was seated at the bar, I leaned over to tell my sister something and I heard a sad little ripping sound. I looked but couldn't see any damage.

At about 9:30, we'd gotten some more friends to meet us at the bar. We'd nestled comfortably into a booth and had reached the point in the evening when we switched from beers to martinis. While scooting into the booth, I heard another little ripping sound, and this time saw that my left strap was attached to the front of my dress by 2 sad little threads. Crap.

I was on high alert for strap rippage since I'd been in this situation before. It was probably 3 years ago, and I was at a 4th of July part in Hermosa Beach. I was wearing this white shirt with little spaghetti straps that I borrowed from a friend. I noticed during the day that one of the straps was starting to tear off. I tried to restrict my movement after that, holding my arm close to my side. But then after about an hour the strap just snapped right off. I caught the front of the shirt before I was exposed.

There were about 40 people at this party, I knew 3 of them...and I couldn't find any of them anywhere. Finally I tracked down one of my girlfriends, who was in the kitchen making a drink. When I told her about the catastrophic situation, she laughed a little and went back to what she was doing, clearly having too much fun to worry about me. But I stood there until she finally paid attention to me, and then she helped me track down a safety pin. Oh, and apparently the only way to track down a safety pin while at a party is to take your friend by the hand, leaving her with only one hand to hold up her shirt, and drag her through every room, yelling, "My friend's shirt is about to fall off, we need a safety pin!"

Now, let me be clear about something. There is nothing about my boobs that indicates that a common shirt can't contain them. Honestly, they are not big. There is no reason for this.

And so as I stared at this disaster waiting to happen with my beloved black dress, I began to panic a little. Fortunately this time I was only in the company of friends, plus one nice bartender, and a handful of other bar patrons who seemed like they wouldn't make fun of me.

I lifted up my arm to test the strength of the dying strap and then POP. Off it went. I looked around the table. No one was paying any attention to me. Normally this would upset me, but at the time I was relieved.

I nudged my sister sitting next to me and showed her what was happening. Jumping to action, she attempted to fix the strap by pulling the little red stirring straw out of her drink and tying it in a big knot around the end of the busted strap.

Next she got a paperclip from the bar and tried to MacGuyver the strap back together. It looked awful.

I gave up and just tucked the straps into my strapless bra, thinking I had the answer. In this picture taken that night, you can see I was clearly very pleased with my solution.


So I went on like this for another 20 minutes, dancing to my jukebox selections, sipping my drink, acting like everything was fine, although feeling that if I lifted up my arms I would slide right out of the dress.

And then I went into the bathroom to see how everything looked. Clearly, I should have done this earlier, for what I saw in the mirror was a mess. The broken strap had come untucked and was just swinging around at my side. My bra was showing. Oh it was simply awful.

I guess the point of the story is: There is no way to recover from a broken strap. So don't bother. The end.

Small Disasters In Everyday Conversation

Some may argue against this point, but I feel like most of the time, when I'm with my friends or coworkers, I act pretty cool. Not like The Fonz cool, but I don't severely embarrass myself or alienate people by saying weird things.

However, when I'm in public, in the presence of strangers, things get a little out of hand. I don't know what is wrong with me, but I say the dumbest things. And it's not just what I say, but how I say it. I think the word "corny" applies here.

To better explain myself, let me tell you about an encounter I had on Tuesday that is typical of my lunatic behavior when alone in public.

We had this printer emergency at work and so I ran out to Staples to buy a new ink cartridge. I grabbed petty cash before I left, and this is how I ended up with a crisp one hundred dollar bill. Now, I don't know what it is about a hundred dollar bill, but I get overly excited when I have one in my possession. I think this is largely because I am poor and so I rarely carry hundreds around with me. But moreover, I think my fascination comes from the criminal activity connected with the hundred. Whenever you hand one across the counter to pay for something, the cashier gives you a suspicious glance. Is this counterfeit? They hold the bill up to the light. They rub the paper between their fingers. Sometimes a manager is called over for a second opinion. It makes me feel like a spy or something.

And when they finally accept it, the hundred isn't placed in the cash drawer with the other bills. They lift up the tray and hide it underneath. It is that special.

This whole money dance doesn't happen during my usual, everyday transactions, when I hand over a crumbled up five dollar bill that I yanked out from the center of a 3 inch wide wad of receipts in my wallet.

This is why I get excited about a hundred dollar bill.

But enough about the pathetic goings-on in my head. Back to why I screw up the real world too.

So I get to Staples and grab a new ink cartridge and a few other supplies and make my way over to the cash register. The cashier is probably 19, and has the typical look of a 19 year old working at Staples: bored, doesn't give a crap.

She rings up my total and I hand over the hundred. She doesn't look as intrigued as I'd hoped she'd be. Then she takes out a marker and draws a little line on the bill. The ink is a yellowish brown.

"What's that all about?" I ask. Now I sound accusatory.

"It's to see if the bill is real or counterfeit," she answers. I'm sure no one else asks her about this step. I'm sure most customers don't engage her in awkward chatter. She tosses the bill in the cash drawer.

"I know it's real. I just got it from the bank." Now I sound like I'm crazy. "So when you draw a line, does it show a little pattern or symbol or something?" I ask.

She sighs. "No, it turns pink if it's fake."

"Oh that's really cool," I say with weird enthusiasm. I think I laughed a little. Now I sound like I'm flirting with her.

She isn't smiling back. She holds out my change. "Yeah it's how they're checking them now."

"Ah, good to know. Good to know. " And now I sound like a counterfeiter.

A rare moment of hundred dollar bill action, and I ruined it. So, I make an ass out of myself in public. But you'll never actually see this happen because it's only possible when I'm not in the company of anyone I know.

THE HILLS RECAP: The One Where Something Happens

For as long as I've been dating Devin, he's been receiving Rolling Stone. Apparently he signed up for some promotion 3 years ago, and he's been getting them free ever since.

They arrive weekly in the mail, and while I never take the time to crack open the magazine and read the articles, I always take a second to admire the covers.

Sometimes, I'm intrigued by them.



Sometimes, I'm turned on.



But last week I was, for the first time, alarmed by Rolling Stone's cover.



I know. You're probably as perplexed as I am.

"But I thought Heidi and Lauren couldn't be in the same room together."

Well, apparently they can.

"Do Lauren and Audrina have cankles?"

Maybe a little, but it's hard to tell.

"What's going on with Heidi's face? Has she had even more work done?"

Probably.

"But I thought Rolling Stone was cool. Does this mean The Hills is cool?"

No absolutely not.

I'd imagine that this is part of the big publicity package surrounding the final episode of Season 3, which aired this past Monday night.

I'll be honest, I had no clue this was the season finale until the end credits popped up and then Lauren announced "Next season on The Hills" and cued up the cleverly edited clips that make it look as though next season is going to be all thrills. Maybe if I'd bothered to read the article inside of this week's Rolling Stone, I'd actually have known what to expect as I sat down to watch this episode.

But oh well.

We begin this week in a downtown LA loft. Having lived with Lo and Lauren for some unspecified amount of time, Audrina's had quite enough of feeling like the third wheel. So she and on-again (maybe?) boyfriend Justin/Bobby are checking out some new, overpriced apartments for her.



Justin/Bobby, who's new hottie image is threatened by his douchey method of sunglass storage, continues to give Audrina his sensible, albeit pushy, advice.


Justin/Bobby: Just think, it will be like how you live now, all alone. But you'll actually be alone. You can get stuff out of your own fridge.
Audrina: Yeah, I guess.
Justin/Bobby: You could make mac and cheese from scratch. And I could eat it.
Audrina: I could.
Justin/Bobby: And this loft space is amazing. It will be perfect if I decide to start a band...or a custom motorcycle shop.
Audrina: Wait, are you living with me?
Justin/Bobby: What does it mean to even live together anyway? I mean, is it when two souls share the same space? The same bathroom?
Audrina: In this case, yeah it is.
Justin/Bobby: Right, well then is it ok if I crash here?
Audrina: Fine.



Meanwhile, across town, Stephanie drops by Heidi's apartment and is shocked to find Spencer there.

Spencer: What are you doing here?
Stephanie: What are you doing here?


No, Stephanie. What are you doing there? You know damn well that Heidi isn't home. Did you come to steal her trashy platform heels? Her shiny stretch pants? Her teeth whitening trays?

Hmm? Hmm?

But Spencer doesn't have time for such questioning. He is a man on a mission. A man determined to find Heidi.

Stephanie: If I tell you where she is, do you promise you won't freak out?
Spencer: Well I can promise that, but will you believe me?
Stephanie: Not really.
Spencer: Ok then.
Stephanie: She's in Vegas.
Spencer: VEGAS!?
Stephanie: With her bosses.
Spencer: WITH HER BOSSES!
Stephanie: It's just a work thing.
Spencer: I'll have to put an end to this.
Steaphanie: Please don't. You're obviously going to make her and yourself look really stupid and force her to make a tough decision in the last 5 minutes of today's episode.
Spencer: Sweet.



And Heidi is indeed hard at work, with her boss Brent and her boss's boss, Sleazy Sam. They're taking a tour of the hotel that SBE plans to buy and turn into an over-publicized hotspot filled with nightclubs that I'd never get into and coked out, scary rich kids. If you ask me, Vegas has enough of this, but Sleazy Sam doesn't want my input, he wants Heidi's.



Sleazy Sam: So for the poolside, we're going to take out all of these lounge chairs and bring in new lounge chairs. And then we're going to bring in some fountains to give it a European feel.
Heidi: That's brilliant. When I see fountains, I think Europe.
Sleazy Sam gives Heidi's butt a little pinch.
Sleazy Sam: Ah, toots. Keep your mouth shut and you'll go far.
Heidi: Heh...
Sleazy Sam: Are you writing this down?


Heidi: Sam, perhaps Brent hasn't told you, but I'm a really powerful young executive. I'm Vice President of New Business.
Sleazy Sam: (To Brent) You told her she's Vice President of New Business? That's hilarious.
Brent: Shhh! She's got crazy hearing.
Heidi: Gentlemen?


Sleazy Sam: Here we have the presidential suite, with a view of the runway at McCarran International Airport. I'm thinking we'll tear down the airport and put in a giant tank of girls in mermaid costumes. Or maybe a roller derby.
Heidi: Brent, can I have a word with you?
Brent: I guess.
Heidi: Is Vice President of New Business a real thing?
Brent: Of course. Otherwise I wouldn't have brought you on this trip.
Heidi: Oh..ok great. Because you know, I'm really dedicated to this company. And I will do whatever it takes--
Brent: Yeah that's great. Are we done here?

Back in Hollywood, Lauren and Whitney are hard at work, moving clothes from one rack to another.



Lauren: I like your dress. I like that it has every color in it.
Whitney: Thank yooouuu-ah. So how are things with Audrina?
Lauren: Not so great.
Whitney: Realleh?
Lauren: Yeah.
Whitney: Oh my god, what's happeningk?



Lauren: She's been really distant every since Lo and I stopped talking to her.
Whitney: No way.
Lauren: It's like she's upset or something. But I didn't do anything wrong.
Whitney: Of course you didn't. I mean, what did she say when you asked her what was up?


Lauren: What do you mean?
Whitney: You know, when you talked to her to see why she's been sad for the past few weeks.
Lauren: Oh. I haven't asked her. She can talk to me too. It's a two way street.
Whitney: Of course. I just thought...
Lauren: You are one scene away from being completely out of this show. So I'd tread lightly if I were you.
Whitney: Right.

Hours later, Team Pratt rolls into down the Las Vegas strip, ready to sabotage Heidi's career and ruin her life forever.



He puts lil' sis on the phone to find out where she is.

Stephanie: I'm not calling her.
Spencer: Do it.
Stephanie: I won't let you carry out this evil deed.
Spencer: Then why are you here?



Stephanie (dialing phone): I'm going to stop you from finding Hei---Oh hiii. How are you? How's Vegas? So where are you? A meeting? No where exactly? Mmhmm. Is the table in the corner? More in the middle. Yeah-huh. Got it. Oh, just curious. Well bye.

And now it's time to crash the party.


Spencer pulls up to the valet at Palazzo and runs inside, leaving kid sister in the car to fend for herself.


Inside, Heidi looks like she's quickly becoming a member of the boys' club, laughing at all of Sleazy Sam's dumb jokes. Just when she thinks things are finally looking up...



Spencer swoops in. "Ehhh...excuse me fellas. Sorry to interrupt your dinner, but I need to speak to the little lady for a second."



Embarrassed (and probably secretly excited), Heidi excuses herself from her meeting to go see what the hell Spencer wants this time. Sleazy Sam and pals are all bent out of shape like, "Someone leaving a dinner meeting for 2 minutes. This is most unusual!"



I believe he actually says, "Looks like we'll have to find a new project manager." Man this guy is tough. But he has to be. After all, there's no time for fun and games in the night club/casino business.

Heidi is not pleased.


Heidi: Spencer, what is wrong with you? I'm in the middle of a very important meeting.
Spencer: Do you even know what they're talking about?
Heidi: That's not funny. I'm sitting back down.
Spencer: No, please don't. I didn't mean to make you angry. I know that I've pissed you off every other time I've barged in when you were in the middle of something and made a plea for you to take me back, but I thought this time you'd be delighted.
Heidi: Well, I'm not.
Spencer: I can tell. You're screaming in my face.

And then Spencer finally says the words that will melt Heidi's heart and win her over forever.

"Just come back to LA with me."

Oh, Spencer, you are a true romantic.

Look, Heidi is actually moved.



But it seems that not everyone is a big fan of obnoxious desperation, for Sam and some unnamed associate decide to put an early end to the evening. And Brent scolds Heidi for leaving their side for 3 fucking seconds.



Poor Heidi. Life is tough.



Heidi: What am I to do? I love being important at my job, but I don't want to die alone and Spencer may be the only person in the world capable of loving me.

It seems like Heidi and Spencer are finally ready to resolve their issues, but back at the house, Lauren is stalling in her plans to have a serious heart-to-heart with Audrina.



Lauren: I want to go talk to her, but I'm scared to walk into her little house.
Lo: I've heard screams coming from her house late at night.
Lauren: Really?
Lo: Yeah. She's nuts. We have to kick her out immediately.
Lauren: Well first I think we need to just talk to her. But that can wait til after dinner.
Lo: The dinner we made together. Yay!


After last night's unforgettable faux pas, Brent and Sleazy Sam are in no mood to deal with Heidi's tardiness for a morning appointment. They decide to just hop in the limo and go without her.

Has Heidi lost her mind? Has she overslept? Succumb to a previously suppressed gambling addiction that prevents her from getting up from the slot machine she's perched infront of all night long, gambling away her millions one quarter at a time?



Don't get too excited. She's just off frolicking with Spencer and kid sister, apparently having chosen her man over her job. I can't say I blame her. I'd want to quit too if I'd just spent the weekend surrounded by potential mobsters who yelled at me.

I feel good about this reunion of theirs. First of all, it should shut them both up for a while. Secondly, Heidi appears to be wearing normal clothes again.

Now we go back to the house, where Lauren has just arrived home from work and sits down to chat with Lo.


Lauren: I'm bummed.
Lo: Oh no. What's wrong? Is it about Audrina?
Lauren: Yeah.
Lo: You're sad because she's moving out?
Lauren: She isn't moving out.
Lo: What.


Lauren: I mean, I don't know if she is or not. I haven't talked to her.
Lo: Are you kidding me?
Lauren: I don't like this tone of yours.
Lo: I'm sorry, hun. I just thought that after you've been going on about this for days, you would've actually sat down and said something by now. She's not that intimidating, you know.
Lauren: I know.
Lo: So...

Worried about pissing off yet another friend, Lauren decides to march into Audrina's little house and ask her what gives.

The whole conversation is pretty slow. And I don't know about you, but at this point I pretty much only cared to find out what was happening with Heidi and Spencer.


The only key line of this scene was Audrina saying, "It's not about you, Lauren." In context, she was trying to tell Lauren that it was Lo who was causing the tension between them. But I just loved hearing someone say this to her for once.

After getting nowhere, Lauren starts to cry.


Oh boo freaking hoo.

So what's up with Heidi and Spencer?!


Those crazy kids look like they're moving back in together.


Ah, young love.

And so we conclude a rather uneventful season of The Hills.

Do you ever get into work on Monday, and a coworker asks how your weekend went, and even though you answer "busy" and you felt like it was busy, you can't actually remember accomplishing one thing?

It was like that.

FaceSpace

I think I've made it clear to you all that I am a lame old person. I don't really get out much. I've lived in LA for nearly 4 years and I think I've been to one bar that was considered "cool" by celebrity standards. I watch a lot of TV. I don't really understand how to work a Blackberry. I see YouTube videos after approximately 6 million other people have already seen them. I visit as many as 5 kitten websites a day. And I go to bed early.

I'd be happy to make adjustments to any of these ways of life if it means I won't be the oldest 25 year old in the world.

But there is one young whipper-snapper fad that I've resisted for the past 6 months and will continue to resist: Facebook.

I remember years ago, when I first graduated college, one of my friends told me about Facebook. I was already on Friendster at this point (remember Friendster?), and I didn't much see the point in being a part of another online community. I was satisfied with my little Friendster profile. So when I was told about Facebook, I was skeptical. "Why is this any different? Why do I need two useless online profiles?" I asked my friend.

"This is just better. And everyone from school is on it."

"Well, I have no life. And someone did just take this really funny picture of me. I do need an outlet in which to share this picture. Ok, I'll sign up."

And so I joined facebook.

Within 2 weeks, I'd accumulated like 40 friends. And then, as tends to happen with sites like these, the magic stopped. And I was left with nothing to do but look around on my friends' pages and get momentary jolts of excitement whenever someone's relationship status changed.

I was disillusioned with the whole online community thing. And it had only been a few weeks.

I visited my Facebook account every 5 days or so.

I deleted my Friendster account altogether.

At the time, I was working as an assistant in the legal department of a TV network. One of my coworkers, a good friend of my boss, decided to leave the company to be an executive at something new called MySpace.

I chuckled to myself. Oh no, here we go. Another stupid website that no one is going to care about after 2 months.

Again I found myself asking, ""Why is this any different? Why do I need another useless online profile?"

"MySpace is going to be so much better than Friendster. It will be an outlet for movies and music. It's like a media center," he informed me.

"Uh-huh." I answered flatly.

So he left the company and weeks later I received an email from him inviting me to join MySpace. I didn't even open the email. A short while later, a second email invited me. But I was stubborn.

I don't remember exactly when, but at some point in the coming weeks enough friends had told me about MySpace that I started to think I'd better sign up.

So I caved. I got on MySpace. But I'd never admit it to the former coworker.

And of course when I signed up there was the honeymoon stage. Look how many friends I have! I should write something funny in the interests section! I can change the fonts and designs on my page! Wheeee.

I was so happy with MySpace that I deleted my Facebook account. It was liberating. It felt awesome. It was like passing an ex-boyfriend on the street, while some new hot guy has his arm around me and I've just gotten my hair done so I look extra sexy.

Also, and I will tell you this in the interest of full disclosure, if it wasn't for MySpace, Devin and I wouldn't be together. Back then we were a couple of college acquaintances who were really really bored at work and kept ourselves busy with MySpace messages. Ah, memories.

Anyway, in the next few months, MySpace grew and grew. But my interest in it waned.

After I'd been on MySpace for about 7 months, my sister returned home from a semester abroad in Spain. She'd missed the panicked craze to sign up for MySpace, and so she didn't know a thing about it and didn't care. I was extremely jealous that she wasn't tied into this mess.

For a while, I threatened to delete my account. I'd tell people, "I'm thinking of just deleting my MySpace account" and then I'd wait to see the look of shock on their faces. But nobody seemed to care, and so the act of doing something rebellious seemed pointless.

Instead of outright deleting MySpace, I just kind of ignored it. Occasionally I'd check back, half-heartedly, just to see if there was anything I needed to deal with. But there never was. And I never cared.

I was happy with this arrangement.

But then, Facebook came back out of the blue and with a vengeance.

It was mid or late November and in the span of a week, 3 friends told me I should sign up for Facebook. "NO!" I protested. "I don't want any more things! If I have to come up with one more catchy profile in this lifetime, I will scream!"

"But, it's so much better than MySpace," my friends would say. "You can play Scrabble. And you can poke people."

Emails came in, two or so per week, inviting me to Facebook. I ignored them. I'd email my friends to explain "It's not you, it's me. I'm not rejecting you, I'm just rejecting your request." But I'd never get an email back from them with a reassuring message of "I understand. It's fine." Presumably because my friends were too busy playing Scrabble and poking their other Facebook friends to deal with a pop-culture misfit like me.

As New Year's Eve approached, I got an email invitation to a party from an old friend. When I clicked on a link inside the email, it routed me to Facebook, where I was supposed to be able to get more info.

"But I don't have a Facebook account," I said to the screen.

"Don't have an account? Sign up today!" urged the error page.

"Fine, but just to see this invitation," I warned.

"Suuuure. That's what they all say."

So I signed up. I viewed the invitation. I got busy with something at work and didn't delete my account right away.

The next day, I had 10 emails in my inbox. People who wanted to be my friends. "So glad you joined Facebook, finally!"

This ruffled my feathers. No no no! I can't deal with this.

I deleted my Facebook account for the second time.

Since then, the Facebook resurgence continues to astound me. "The layout is better," I hear. "It's so much easier to use." But I don't care. I refuse. Just as I will refuse FaceSpace, and MyBook, and MyFace and whatever other ridiculous online community pops up next.

Because, as I've said to everyone who asks me to sign up, "I don't want any more things!"

And then I shake my cane at them and chase them away from my park bench.

It's Over

The last episode of Rock The Cradle aired on Thursday. And so now I present to you, my last recap of the show for TVGasm.

The Big Finale

But I'll be assigned to a new show soon enough.

Running From My Problems

You may recall that a few weeks ago, in a fit of ill-advised spontaneity, I signed up for weight watchers. You may also remember that I predicted that I would fail, miserably, because I am a big believer in the Good Start (defined as a goal set with the best of intentions, but which is ultimately never achieved).

You also may recall that a week later I informed you the diet wasn't going well.

I can say now, in all honesty, I think the diet may have ended. The decision was made for me. I can't pinpoint exactly when this occurred but it was some time around last Thursday evening, when I ate nearly an entire baguette and wedge of brie for dinner. And the failure was confirmed yesterday at work when I plowed my way through the leftovers of a dinner meeting. Garlic bread! Cheesecake!

So I haven't lost any weight, but I haven't gained any either. That calls for celebration! Let's order a pizza.

But now I have to tell you about a Good Start that will, for real, result in a Good Finish. I'm running a half marathon.

Yes, that's 13 miles.

I'll give you a minute to finish laughing.

Are you done? Good.

This is the second time I've attempted this. I tried it last summer, planning to run the City of Angeles Half Marathon in December. Devin was doing it with me, and we had to get up every Sunday at 7am to meet with our group.

It was nice to be up that early. To run when the air was still cool. And when we were done, there was still a full day ahead of us.

The problem was that Sunday mornings followed Saturdays. And last summer's Saturdays had become days of heavy drinking by the pool.

Of course this meant I'd put myself to bed by like 9:30 on Saturday night, so I got lots of sleep. But then I woke up and wanted to vomit.

And then during the week, we were supposed to keep running. So I'd wake up early to go for runs in the morning. The problem, though, is that the farther I ran, the more time I'd have to make for it. And at this time I worked at a job with really long hours, and a really long commute. I had roughly 1 hour of free time per day.

Do you think I wanted to spend that 1 hour a day running?

See how good I am with excuses?

The official end to that Good Start was on my birthday in September. I ran a 5k and was very pleased with myself. And then I don't think I ran for about a month after that. I changed my story in my head and told myself I'd always been training for the 5k.

So here we are a year later. I'm disappointed that I never finished the half marathon. I really want to run a full marathon at some point in my life, so if I can't even do this step, I'm hopeless.

And so I'm training now with a team, and doing it as a fundraiser. This way, knowing that people have given me money, I have to finish. I simply HAVE TO.

I'm running for Train To End Stroke. The decision to go with this group was largely inspired by my aunt, who died of a stroke last year.

Right now I'm only in week 1 so I haven't screwed it up yet.

If you'd like to find out more about my training program, or if you'd like to make a donation to this great cause, you can visit my fundraising website.

Thanks! And here's hoping I have a good week 2.

Seamus The Dog Makes Internet Appearance

He's at about 3:55.

To answer your question, Devin works on Scrubs. Seamus is not a famous celebrity dog. He could be, though.

THE HILLS RECAP: Leaving on a jet plane. Don't know when I'll be back again.

Since The Hills aired Monday night, I've been debating if I should put the energy into recapping it. After all, not much happened. Or ever happens this season.

And I'm still not sure it's a good idea, but anyway, here we go:

We begin with Heidi. Am I the only one who sort of forgot she existed?

Determined to assert her independence and careermindedness, as if anyone was calling it into question, Heidi decides to approach her boss Brent Bolthouse about taking on more responsibility at "work."


Heidi: Brent, I'm here because I want to do more stuff.
Brent: Great.
Heidi: I take this job very seriously and I want to do things for this company. Any things at all, for the company. Worldwide. For work. And this job.
Brent: Fabulous. We're opening a hotel in Vegas and you're in charge. Have at it!

Do you know what would happen if I marched up to my boss with the same vague pledge of my enthusiasm?

Me: I want to do more!
Boss: Ok. Like what?
Me: Bigger better things! Important stuff!
Boss: Well, when you think of what that stuff is, let me know. Now if you don't mind, I'm on a conference call right now.
Voice On Speakerphone: Stay positive!

Meanwhile, the non-working girls are getting some sun in their new backyard and deciding what to do with their day.



Lauren: It's so nice out.
Lo: Yeah.
Lauren: Audrina should come out and join us.
Lo: I don't think she should. I mean, she wouldn't want to.
Lauren: I guess. I could just go ask her.
Lo: No. She's sleeping. And yesterday she told me she's trying to stay out of the sun this summer because she recently found out her scalp is allergic to direct sunlight.
Lauren: She said that?
Lo: Yeah. She was really serious about it too. So I guess it's just you and me today.

And then Audrina comes out of her little house.



Lauren: Audrina, what are you doing out here? Is your scalp ok?
Audrina: (patting head curiously) Yeah...it's fine.
Lo remains silent, shakes ice around her in glass of lemonade.
Lauren: Well that's good to hear. What are you up to?
Audrina: I've gotta head into work.
Lauren: Work?
Audrina: Yeah, it's about 1:30. Time to start the day! I'm going to the recording studio. Alkaline Trio is recording their new album, which will be released in stores this August. They'll also be touring this summer, kicking off their first show in Austin on June 24th.
Lauren: Great. I'll check out their website for more information and to shop for band merchandise.
Audrina: Excellent. Well anyway, I wanted to see if you guys would like to stop by and watch me watch them.


Lo's face pretty much says it all. They are so not into this idea. But Lauren attempts to feign interest and gives a shakey promise to drop by.

Back at SBE headquarters, Heidi stops by Kimberly's cubicle to repeat the exact words uttered in her previous scene with Brent.

This entire exchange is pretty pointless, but I just wanted to mention it so I could draw attention to Kimberly's ridiculous bangs.


The ends of them were digging into her eyes the entire time and she kept blinking and blinking in her futile attempt to move them.

After a day of sunning and shopping, Lo and Lauren force themselves to visit Audrina at the recording studio.



Audrina: I'm so glad you guys came!
Lauren: Definitely...this is...cool.
Producer: So what do you think? Because I care what you two have to say about this band. How does it sound?
Lo: (fidgeting with iPhone) I dunno. It's fine.

They stand there for literally 6 seconds, and then Lo starts nudging Lauren in the side and making a pouty face. It reminded me of when the kids I used to babysit for wanted a snack, or had to go potty.



Lo: Psst. I'm hungry. Let's get out of here.
Lauren: Can you wait just a few more minutes?
Lo: No. I'm hungry now.
Lauren: Fine. Hey Audrina, I think we're gonna take off and get some sushi.
Audrina: But you just got here.
Lauren: Yyyyeah. Do you want to come with us?
Audrina: I'm at work right now.
Lauren: I don't understand. So, does that mean you can't?
Audrina: Exactly. I can't.
Lo: Oh well too bad. Bye!

I feel bad for Audrina, but at the same time, if someone gave me the choice between watching my friend do her job or going out for sushi, I'd pick the latter as well.

Sorry, friends!

So the galpals go to some place where the sushi is put into little pods and then zooms past you in a little parade formation.


Lauren, pointlessly, tells Lo that she feels bad for abandoning Audrina.

Lauren: We haven't really spent any time together since we moved into the house.
Lo: Why should you? You have me and we've been best friends forever.
Lauren: Um. Sure.


And then Lauren comes up with the solution that will surely make Audrina feel at home: Make a little sign for the door of her guest house that says "Chateau Audrina"!

Lo doesn't respond. I suspect because she wants to do everything in her power to prevent Audrina's happiness and the re-establishment of her close friendship with Lauren.

Also, I think she thought it was a really stupid idea in general. Because it really is.

Meanwhile, Heidi's made it home after a hard day of kicking ass and taking names. And Stephanie comes on over to hang out.


Heidi: So, I have some news. I'm a big deal.
Stephanie: Really. Says who?
Heidi: Says my boss and his boss, Sam.
Stephanie: Who's Sam? Is he hot?
Heidi: Maybe in a wealthy, middle aged, greasy fat guy sort of way. But anyway, so I am going to be taking on more responsibility at work.


Stephanie: What does that mean?
Heidi: Gosh, you're so cute. Some day when you're out of college you will understand.
Stephanie: (Under her breath) At least I went to college.
Heidi: My increased responsibility means a bigger commitment, and more work. I'll be taking charge and doing things.
Stephanie: Wow, sounds like you are really demonstrating that you are an independent woman who won't let a man hold you back.
Heidi: Also, I'll be traveling. I'm leaving town for a while and going to Vegas to help with a new hotel.
Stephanie: Really?
Heidi: And it will be great for me. To help me clear my head.


Really, Heidi? Clear your head? What could possibly be on your mind at this point, hmm? You've kicked your boyfriend to the curb, you're practically being handed a company, and at 22, you've already got more money than a girl like me will have in her whole life.

What the fuck is wrong?

Anyway. So she tells Stephanie not to tell Spencer that she'll be gone for some unspecified amount of time.

I'm guessing she'll be gone for about 4 days. But Hills time is a whacky, unpredictable beast, as demonstrated by the Paris trip and the amount of time it took the girls to settle into their new house:

one week = 6 months
1 month = 7 hours

So who knows when Heidi will return, if ever.

Back at the ranch, Lo and Lauren are playing with their new toy-- a puppy! They named her Chloe.


Lauren: She is sooo cute!
Lo: I love that we got her together. Don't you love that?
Lauren: I guess.
Lo: I was thinking, maybe we could adopt another puppy.
Lauren: Well, I'm not so sure.
Lo: And I was also thinking, you know how nothing ever works out with you and any of the guys you date? And you know how I don't date anyone?
Lauren: Yeah...
Lo: Well what if we just give up on dating guys all together, and just grow old together as female companions. We can raise our puppy, and then maybe some kids.
Lauren: Oh look Audrina's here!



Lo: Look! We got a dog! And by we, I meant me and Lauren.
Audrina: She's adorable.
Lo: I hope she doesn't ever attack your face! Or accidentally knock over one of the tiki torches in the back yard and burn down the guest house while you're asleep.
Lauren: (oblivious) Yay puppy! We adopted her! We saved her!

Whoopty freakin doo, by the way. Everyone adopts their pets these days.

So then Lo prattles on and on. "When Chloe goes to doggie daycare, she'll say 'I have two mommies.'"

Yikes.


Aww, Audrina. (I guess that would be Awwwdrina.) Don't look so sad. I know Lo's being a dick, but you don't want to be a part of their psychotic relationship anyway.

This whole puppy business got me thinking about the first time there was a puppy on this show. Do you remember? It was back in the first season. Heidi had a boyfriend who was, arguably, an even worse human being than Spencer, and he got her a puppy that she named Bella. A puppy that looks, suspiciously, like Chloe. And then in the next episode, Heidi broke up with that guy and then the puppy just sort of disappeared.


I'd always wondered what happened to Bella. I'd hoped Heidi sent her to live in her parents' shack in the mountains, where she was put to work pulling carts of chopped firewood in preparation for the harsh winter.

But now I see that what actually happened was that Heidi sort of forgot about Bella, who one day escaped out the front door when her beloved owner left for "work." Heidi had been too busy rummaging through her giant handbag for her keys, while continuously pushing back the giant sunglasses atop her golden mane. Later that day, when Heidi returned home, she got the distinct feeling that something was wrong, but never quite identified that the wrongness was her absent dog.

After exploring the courtyard of Hillside Villas for a few hours, Bella ran off through the front gate, and then on through the streets of West Hollywood. She eventually fell in love with a ferrel beagle named Chompers, and later gave birth to Chompers' pups. But it turns out that Bella, in her short time with Heidi, had inherited her owner's poor taste in men, for Chompers left poor Bella when her pups were only days old, leaving the girl to fend for herself. And she tried desperately to raise them on her own, but eventually turned them all in to the nearest animal shelter.

And then one day, a pair of blondes wandered into the shelter, after spending their morning deciding if they should get pedicures or adopt a puppy. Fortunately for the last of Bella's pups to remain at the shelter, the girls were feeling particularly philanthropic that day. And so Bella's puppy went home with them. And they named her Chloe.

While I was browsing around on MTV's website, looking for evidence of Bella's existence, I watched some of the episodes from the first season. Holy crap things have changed! They all used to be so full of life! And happy! And sort of funny. And they wore sweatshirts.

And for goodness sake, just look at Heidi! Now this is the kind of Heidi I can get behind. Ever her voice was different back then.



And look how they dressed. Lauren's ensemble looks like something I'd actually be able to put together myself. Heidi's looks...awful. But I like that about her!



Ah, memories.

So back to the rest of this episode. I know, I went off on quite the tangent, but I had to say something because not much happens after the puppy incident. So let me make this all brief.


At the Pratt residence, Stephanie decides she's had enough of her big brother and kicks Spencer out of her condo. My favorite Spencer line of the episode:
Stephanie: I'm sick of you're being here.
Spencer: I'm sick of you.

Audrina and Justin/Bobby emerge from her little house. Hey now! At least someone's getting some action on this show. And then they head into the kitchen for some breakfast.


Audrina comments that she has never cooked in the new kitchen and doesn't know what kind of food they have there. She tells her boytoy that she just feels so unwelcome in the house proper. Justin/Bobby, once again astonishingly helpful and with-it, asks her why she feels like sticking around if they are being lame bitches to her. Yeah, Audrina, why are you sticking around?

Also, I am totally in love with new Justin/Bobby! He is freaking adorable. And he feeds Audrina pineapple.



Yum.

Unfortunately for Heidi, she isn't blessed with such fabulous eye candy that morning. Indeed, it appears that taking on more responsibility means being trapped on a private jet with this guy (her boss):



And this guy. Her boss's boss, Sam:


While getting to know Heidi, Sam creepily stalls the conversation on the topic of Heidi's pretty-much-ex boyfriend. "He is going to go crazy when he finds out you're in Vegas!" BWA HA HA HA. And they all have a hardy chuckle at Spencer's expense.


While the men continue laughing away, Heidi looks a little sad. Perhaps having just realized that Sam is going to force himself on her later after he's had too many martinis at dinner. Oh, Heidi, what have you gotten yourself into now?

Homeless Spencer goes crawling back to his old apartment that he once shared with Heidi. But when he gets there and lets himself in, he discovers she isn't home! Oh my goodness? Where could she be?



You know, I've made this point before, but what is with these people and their inability to use cellphones properly? They are constantly staring at their iPhones, but they must be checking their stocks or playing sodoku or something because they certainly aren't communicating with anyone. They just show up at one another's apartments. "Oh hey! What are you doing here?" "I'm glad you're home. I wasn't sure if you would be, but I didn't want to call and find out."

So here Spencer finds himself in an empty apartment. And rather than assuming that Heidi is at "work" or shopping or at brunch, he senses that something is amiss.

And so he whips out the ol' iPhone to call her. No, wait, he calls Stephanie to ask her where Heidi is. How direct...

Ah well. This show may have lost it's oomph, but as I discovered this week, you can always go back and watch the old seasons. The seasons with heart.