My fellow Austrians.

Good evening.  You may have noticed the Blob’s small hiatus from its regularly scheduled cutting commentary.  My apologies.  We’re living in a reality show conducted by King Man-Child and Mr. Bannon-Goebbels and it is exhausting.  I’m so exhausted that upon waking up to a rare San Francisco peal of thunder recently, I assumed we were getting nuked by North Korea and was surprisingly okay with it. 

But this is the tactic of our Orange Overlord, right?  Inundate us with bullshit from all angles so we are stuck spinning in excrement, all while he dances around tearing down democratic norms?  Our free press, our independent judiciary—nothing is safe from his vindictive incompetence.

I can hear some of you thinking, “Oh Claire, you’re being dramatic.  Can’t we go back to the fun, non-political times of the Blob?”  NO WE CANNOT.  I attempted to write a light-hearted post last week but it turned into a real tearjerker about how I feel like CAPTAIN VON TRAPP SINGING EDELWEISS TO HIS DEAD AUSTRIA.  I need you, Julie Andrews.  And right now, I’m sparing you the very poignant lessons we could learn from the Old Jewish Cemetery in Prague (but don’t worry, I’m saving it for later).  It seems that all my blob brain is wired for right now is finding parallels between our current state of affairs and the rise of the Third Reich.  THANKS, OBAMA.

And now, we breathe.  During the hiatus from substantive blobbing, I had the great fortune of attending two meet-ups of strong lady friends (Feminist Fight Club last Tuesday and Babes Brunch yesterday).  We discussed current events, brainstormed ways to get involved, and ate delicious food.  I recognize my tendency to sit at home and fret, so it was good to meet up with smart, kind women and plan for action.  I highly recommend it.  It’s healthy to get out of social media world.

Womankind, arise!

That’s all I got for today, y'all.  Good night.  God bless.  Call your senators.  Tip your waitresses.

Though we adore men individually,
we agree that as a group they're rather stupid.

A Christmas tradition.

Watching the Kennedy Center Honors is a cherished Christmas tradition in my family.  Is this normal?  We all gather ‘round the TV and discuss how old and decrepit the honorees are looking these days, while we enjoy the retrospectives on their lives and careers. 

Peter asks, "Which member of the Eagles looks most like a skeleton?"

Those of you who do not dedicate a Christmas evening to sending senior citizens off into the American pantheon are truly missing out.  Every year, the Kennedy Center chooses a handful of actors/musicians/directors/entertainers to honor with a lifetime achievement award.  They put on a big glitzy show and bring in other celebrities to pay homage to the honorees.  It’s kind of similar to the “In Memoriam” segment of the Oscars, but the people are still alive.  The President and First Lady sit up in the box with all the honorees.  During any musical number, the camera pans up to the presidential box and we get to see everyone really feeling the music (see 1:00 and 2:32 marks). 

While I enjoy learning about the honorees’ lives and careers, I particularly love how awkward some of these tributes are.  The most bizarre in recent memory was Martin Short’s tribute to Tom Hanks in 2014.  At the end, Martin breaks out into an elaborate “Yankee Doodle Dandy” song and dance number (no, you are not forgetting Tom Hank’s hit role in Yankee Doodle Dandy.  Yes, it was an odd choice for a Tom Hanks tribute).  If you can’t stomach the whole thing, at least skip to the 16:10 mark—even Tom is like, wtf is happening.  Don’t miss 17:30 for a tap dancing child prodigy and Tom Hanks again being like, wtf.  Now envision in the same show, a sitar tribute to Sting and frequent camera pans to him clapping like a poorly programmed animatronic (9:40).  Like I said, you’re missing out if this is not part of your holiday tradition. 

This year's show could not escape a certain bittersweet atmosphere.  It was, of course, the last time a normal human president will preside over the event for quite some time, perhaps forever.  Attending the Kennedy Center Honors is just one of the many ceremonial duties I cannot quite envision for our president-elect.  (Reading books to schoolchildren, throwing out the first pitch, and giving State of the Union are others.)  Can we expect him to sit through an entire evening honoring other people?  Will his vanity allow it?  Our child-in-chief might need to bring his iPad.  Imagine the tweets coming from the president’s box. 

My show THE APPRENTICE got higher ratings than anything <insert actual honoree> has ever done!  Where is my award?  Very unfair!

I have to spend the evening with Hollywood elite—would rather focus on YOU, the American people!

But let's be real.  I think we all can predict what's in store for the 2017 Kennedy Center Honors.

Melania would rather be in her tower.

With a special tribute from surprise guest, Vlad!

*I know I promised not to name or depict our president-elect for the rest of 2016.  I'm sorry.  I couldn't help myself.  But...are you not entertained??

Vlad can't HEAR you!

Stay awake.

Studying for this exam is making me wonder if I have narcolepsy.

Julie Andrews is beautiful.


Stay tuned for a longer post in which I will plead with Mary Pat Christie for the sake of her soul.

Will-o'-the-wisp encounter.

As I was walking by the Castro Theater on my way to work the other day, I noticed a woman wearing big sunglasses walking with two men.  “Wow,” I thought, “she kind of looks like Julie Andrews.”  When I passed by them, I heard her talking—it was the unmistakable, wonderful voice of Julie Andrews!!!!  Julie Andrews in the flesh!!!!  Commence internal freak out—do I bother her for a picture, would that be rude, but how can I let this moment go by, she’s about to head into the theater, go after her, now...now!!

Me: Excuse me, I’m sorry, but…are you Julie Andrews?

JA: [with a smile] Most of the time, yes.

Me: [with UTTER JOY] Oh my gosh, I am a huge fan.  [Immediately kicking myself for saying that—of course I’m a huge fan, everyone is a huge fan.] Could I bother you for a picture?

JA: Of course.

One of the men took our picture.  She had to go into the theater, so I thanked her and we said goodbye.  I immediately took my phone out to text the picture to my family, but for some reason, I could not get to the message app…my phone was stuck in the clock app…my alarm was going off…I was in bed…it was time to get up for work.................

What an emotional roller coaster.

*As a rule, I hate stories that end with “…and then I woke up.  It was all a dream.”  But I couldn’t resist.  It was so real.  The only way Dream Claire could have known it was not real life was that Real Claire doesn’t walk by Castro Theater on the way to work.  But I cannot blame her for being distracted by the excitement of meeting Julie Andrews.

Maybe one day.