It has truly been an incredible year: revolutions, mass protest movements, the deaths of multiple tyrants and a heated pre-election season in the United States.  And yet, if I can humbly impart you with one image to remember 2011 by, let it be this:

The writers finally remembered that Lucifer woke up Capital-D Death in, oh, November, and comes after residents of Bobby's South Dakota home town in last night's entry, "Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid." While initially lacking in the spectacular gore that made "My Bloody Valentine" so awesome (yes, awesome, even if it did make me mad), "Dead Men" was a Badass Bobby-centric episode, and who can argue against Jim Beaver?

See, Death has decided to wake up a bunch of corpses from the local cemetery, including Bobby's dead wife Karen (Carrie Anne Fleming and not Elizabeth Marleau from season three's "Dream a Little Dream of Me"), only they're more alive-again, Pushing Daisies-style, than the flesh-eating monsters we usually associate with rising from the grave. Actually, they go Daisies one better: the people, like Bobby's cremated wife, are completely restored. Of course, it takes our brainless* heroes forever to figure out what's up with Bobby, even after Dean suspects that Bobby has cleaned. Dudes, just look at Bobby's head: beard trimmed, trucker hat removed, hair parted and neatly combed. Something is just plain wrong with that picture. 

*As always, Dean and Sam are exactly as smart or a dumb as the episode needs them to be. It's consistently inconsistent.

Despite the fact that I am somehow ignored December while it was going on, I am fully aware that it is January. As such, I thought it appropriate to fully winterize myself this year, by which I mean try to correct past winter mistakes.

Two years ago, I slipped on some ice and fractured my leg. I don't want a repeat performance and mincing around everywhere trying to avoid ice is no way to live. I picked up a pair of Winter Trax* for $20 and wore them for the first time this morning. There were two moments when my right foot sort of slipped out from under me, but I think that has more to do with the fact that I was deliberately not watching where I was stepping to give the Trax a real test. It's a little weird at first to walk on springy metal coils, but it's definitely a better grip. 

After several hours out in the snow the first weekend of the year (not my usual), I realized Sunday afternoon that I had a (very mild) case of frostbite on my right ear. My hat covers my ears, but it's flopsy and loose. Wind still managed to get in there. I decided I should get a hat that clamped down tight over my ears, and my friend offered hers up as she is abroad for the rest of the season. The day before I started wearing it, however, I spotted a sweet mohawk hat like the one pictured, and now I want one. How cool is that hat? Except the one I saw was more like this one, in that it had ear flaps. It was nice of my friend to lend me her hat, but a pom is no mohawk, I think you'll agree. 

As one of the multitude that is dying for Mad Men's return (August 16, and yes, I have marked my calendar), whiling away the hours until its return is as painful as watching Sal hit on Ken right in front of his wife (seriously, I almost cried). Until we can know what's happening with the takeover and Don and Betty's new baby, we have to make our own fun. The lovely people over at AMC have given us Mad Men-ize yourself. As you can see, Peggy and Pete look happy to see me (does that mean Pete's alive?!), Don is Don, Roger's amused, and Joan looks suspicious. My actual hair doesn't look like that, but I couldn't bear to part with the leopard skin pillbox hat (or my cigarette or my martini). What? It's the '60s! That's how they do business, and I'm sure my ciggies are toasted.

I used to have these anxiety dreams all the time where I'm late for hockey and I can't get my goalie pads done up in time to make it out onto the ice before the start of the game.  I'd wake up in a horrible cold sweat.  It was awful.

Now that I've been doing lots of interviews for (Cult)ure, an entirely new anxiety dream has started up:  I'm interviewing someone and my voice recorder won't work properly!

Last night's version of the dream starred Lucas Grabeel, better known as Ryan Evans from the High School Musical films: