In this post I was simply going to point out that the series finale - last show ever - of “The Hills” airs tonight and that I’d be watching it. And then I thought maybe I’d mention a few favorite moments. Maybe get a little nostalgic.

But then I did a search of my archives for posts I’ve written that include the words “The Hills” and…there were a lot of posts. A whole lot. Kind of an embarrassing amount. Like when I announced that I’d be live tweeting during the premiere. Or when I thought about Spencer. Or when we all commented about how J actually loves the show, despite saying that he hates it.

And more. A lot more posts.

So, farewell to “The Hills.” It appears that I’m gonna have to get a new hobby.

Last week after deciding I couldn’t possibly stay awake to watch the premiere of the final season (I hate you, MTV) of “The Hills,” I realized how ludicrous I was acting and tucked myself into bed for a half hour of the best television ever in the history of the world. Just deal with it.

That episode was so good, I mean, so good, my favorite part being the fact that Heidi’s jaw was sore so she had to talk in that tiny little voice. Bring on the drama. Anyway, as a belated tribute to this farewell season, I wanted to share this video my friend Sarah (thanks, Sarah!) just sent me. These children should all win Emmys.

1. “Timer”
2. “The Hangover,” but only the photo roll during the credits. The rest, honestly? It wasn’t the funniest movie I’ve ever seen. But any movie J and I saw in the theater this year gets major points because being in a movie theater was such a big deal that I remember each and every movie theater experience since Nora was born extremely fondly.
3. “Kicking and Screaming,” for the millionth time, which wasn’t made in 2009 and which never, ever loses its magic.

Um, holy shit. I can’t remember any other movies I saw this year. I saw “Funny People,” which I thought was, like, four or five hours too long, and last night J and I went to see “Avatar,” which I’m pretty sure deserves a post of its own.

Top five songs I heard:

1. “Daylight” by Matt & Kim - sometimes I daydream that I go out dancing somewhere and I ask them to play this song and they DO
2. “River” by Akron/Family
3. “Lights Out” by Santogold - number one song for turning up loud when I’m alone in the car
4. “Empire State of Mind” by Jay-Z - the presence of this song on the list indicates my desperate need to get back into music
5. “Skinny Love” by Bon Iver - although, apparently, this song was released in 2008

Readers, your turn. Comments, bring it.

I’ve been listening to the song “Daylight” by Matt and Kim a bunch on my iPod while I’m running and, yeah, I know that probably everybody who heard that song played in the ads for the NBC show “Community” downloaded it, and that it’s not cool or novel to like it so much, but I can’t help myself. Catchy, upbeat music has been where it’s at for me the past few months, and while I’m merely inching forward - slowly - in my quest to find worthwhile new music, I am, indeed, inching.

The song has the added bonus of causing me to, happily, think of Joel McHale (despite the fact that I don’t really like “Community” and am glad he’s still got “The Soup”), who I am a little bit in love with, and before you go saying anything, J, need I remind you of the adoration heaped upon a certain business and finance reporter every single weekday morning?

J is standing in our living room in his pajama pants and a t-shirt right now, watching the World Series Game 1 - a game, by the way, that I adamantly told him I would not watch with him, because I knew he was going to be obnoxious.

I told him, “No thanks, that sounds like a terrible night and I have a Dan Brown novel to read. I’ll be upstairs.”

But lo and behold, the game’s been on a couple hours and I’m still down here, sort of watching. J hasn’t been all that obnoxious, despite the fact that I informed him I would (obviously) be supporting the Phillies. Which, in this instance, is as easy as not getting excited when the Yankees do anything remarkable. The worst he’s done is tried to show me where he was sitting when he went to the Yankees/Angels game Sunday night, repeatedly pointing to the screen and saying, loudly, “Cara! Look! Look! Look! That’s where we were sitting.”

I’m not sure of the exact reasoning behind this, but I’m pretty sure my being a Red Sox fan allows me to ignore such behavior.

In any case I wanted to write a post in public support of the Not Yankees Phillies. My new favorite team. That I know nothing about. Except how much they are going to rock the World Series.

As I was saying, I’m busy September 22, 2010 because I’m going to see Pavement.

Ok. Background.

Please forgive me if I’ve told this rather un-climatic story before, either on this blog, or when we were hanging out and I was telling you about the more ridiculous moments in my young life, when, not only did I think I was really awesome, but you wanna know what? Maybe I was really awesome.

We were at this party. I don’t remember what year this was, but it was some point during my time at Boston University, and I’m guessing - due to the nature of the conversation I am about to relate - that we were in Allston or Brighton, student-heavy residential areas a little west of the main campus, where the bars were plentiful and the housing less expensive. It’s where the cool kids lived and partied and then went out for breakfast in an post-drunk-or-maybe-a-little-still-drunk stupor.

Anyway, I was at this party and let’s just imagine, for the sake of visualization, that I was wearing some corduroys I’d bought at the thrift store. And I’m getting a beer or something in the kitchen and I overheard some people talking about Pavement. Well, wouldn’t you know, I was a Pavement fan! I don’t know who’d gotten me into them…the always influential Matt Barbee and his mixed tapes, or maybe my brother, but no matter, I was a fan, and if there was one thing I knew as sure as I loved college parties was that it was really, really radical to a) know who Pavement was and b) be a fan.

I mean, it’s not like Pavement is some super-unknown band; they’re really well known in the world of indie rock, in fact. But for a young twenty-something, making her way at a large and diverse university, knowing about Pavement was, at certain parties, a good way of singling out the other music lovers. And then what you’d do is talk about the albums.

So I get in on the conversation and I’m talking to this girl who’s leaning against the door and is all “You like Pavement?” and I’m like “Yeah,” and we’re sort of drunk and life IS RADICAL. And she’s all, “Well, you know what their best album is, right? It’s ‘Wowee Zowee.’”

Now, people, everyone says that “Wowee Zowee” is the best Pavement album and I don’t know why. It’s full of short, weird little songs and I think the reason people say it’s their favorite is because liking Pavement isn’t unique enough and they want to try and be a little edgier. That’s just what I think, I can’t help it.

I countered that my favorite album was “Slanted and Enchanted,” which actually isn’t true anymore, but at the time, you know what? I wasn’t gonna follow all the “Wowee Zowee” lemmings. The two of us really got into it then, talking about the specifics of certain songs in sort of deranged, youthful analysis that I’m not even capable of anymore. Others joined the conversation and I semi-abandoned the people I’d come with. I’d become the cool girl who came to the party who loved Pavement, when I could have been a just another guest. A minor event, yes, but in the history of my musical past, a very nice memory.

So when my friend Jennifer called me the other day to announce that Pavement (the band sadly disbanded several years ago) was getting together for a reunion tour, and then found out that a few tickets would be going on sale early, there was simply no question, we had to get them. So we went online while on the phone to each other, like over excited seventh graders (if the Internet had existed in the way it does now when we were 13) and waited until the appointed hour and we got those tickets. Because it’s Pavement, and my love has never waned. I hope they play “Summer Babe.” And I know it will rock.

We’re having a little Internet situation at our house so this isn’t exactly going to be a proper blog post. Something’s amiss with our connection so right now I’m, um, borrowing from someone. It’s not exactly a surefire way to stay online. Yeah, I know, I could write in Word and then paste the entry during one of the 30-second-intervals I’m on, but I don’t know, that seems desperate. And my posting every day for three weeks wasn’t a desperation thing.

I’m kind of bummed because I was really excited to write about Pavement tonight. Pavement the band, who I am going to see when they go on their reunion tour in slightly less than one year. Slightly less than one year, guys! Is it too soon to say I can’t wait? It might be a little soon. OR NOT! More tomorrow.

From my couch.

Tonight.

Glass of red wine in hand.

“The Hills” premiere.

Will Lauren be missed? Will Kristin bring the drama?

Commence the discussion.

And follow me later.

I read in “Us Weekly” the other day that Jon Gosselin was at some after party for the Emmys. What? What’s he doing at any after party, Emmys-related or otherwise? Jon Gosselin! I thought you said you hated the press. Don’t you remember? Why are you suddenly big news in the gossip mags? And why do I read it so fervently?

BrickBreaker is awesome. IT IS AWESOME.

I give up. I read mysteries. I love them and I don’t want to read anything else. And you want to know why that’s ok? Because I did my time with the great works of literature. When I was a teenager I stayed up all night reading Thomas Wolfe and John Steinbeck novels like they were crack cocaine for the soul. And when I read “The Sorrows of Young Werther,” I underlined pretty much the whole book, thinking, every five seconds, “That is exactly how I feel, that’s just how I feel!!!”

I also want to read the new Dan Brown novel like you wouldn’t believe. I heard you can buy it in the grocery store.

Speaking of BrickBreaker, Nora practically had a nervous breakdown when I wouldn’t give her my BlackBerry today. It was one of those parenting situations where I tried to do the right thing in not giving it to her, thinking, “This kid has to learn that she can’t have whatever she wants whenever she wants it.” Then her little face crumpled and she let loose one of those cries that consists of a huge sucking in of breath and then “WawawawaWAAAAAAAAAAAH.” But don’t feel sorry for the little one just yet because guess what. She’s a faker. And it worked. I gave her my BlackBerry and the “crying” immediately ceased, replaced by the smug, ultra-serious look she adopts when she is emailing all her business associates or whatever she does with that thing.