 Bette & Bermudas |
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Okay. Week 3, Day 2 almost killed me the other night, I cannot lie. I didn't get to the gym until 8:00 at night because of work and I hadn't eaten since lunch and didn't have time to eat anything but an apple that I shoved into my mouth while running out the door. I was on the verge of bursting into tears throughout the running segments. Only Rhett Miller's Our Love and the tap-dancing section of Forget About the Boy saved me. Well, that and a text message received from Elizabeth that read, "The hero of Canton, the man they call ME!" I'm almost done with season two of The L Word. Don't read this paragraph if you don't want to know what's happened up until this point. I really liked Tina in season one, but this year she's just intolerable. I think it's her connection with Helena, who is loathsome and a completely shallow character. She has no depth whatsoever and I can't stand her and the fact that Tina continues to hang around her makes me hate Tina, too. Jenny has clearly gone off the deep end, chanting in Hebrew as if in a trance and stripping in front of beastly men and getting tortured. Alice and Dana continue to delight me although I'm a little fuzzy on the whole strap-on concept. I never thought I'd sympathize with Bette again after her dalliance with the carpenter that was straight-up out of order and uncalled for, but lo, Jennifer Beals has a way of crying and looking all sorry and now I'm firmly on her side again especially since Tina is acting like such an ass. And Christy Cummings as the predatory attorney was just frightening. And I'm still trying to figure out why Shane is still being all pal-sy with the roommate who videotaped her having sex. It is confusing. Kit, I'm sorry to say, remains pointless. My favorite moment of the season remains when they had to go to a chain coffee shop because the Planet was being renovated and Shane, shocked, appalled, and disgusted, said something like, "What the fuck is she talking about, 'flavoring'?" when the barista asked if she wanted a flavor shot in her coffee. Last night I had a very detailed Veronica Mars dream, and in that dream, it turned out that Wallace was the bad guy who blew up the bus. Wallace. It was very upsetting. I actually woke up upset. There was also a lot of Veronica-Logan angst. I kind of gave up on this show for the first half of the season, but I've been getting more into it lately. And I have to say that Veronica, Keith, and Logan are all just unbelievably great characters. Without any one of them, they might as well just cancel the show. Logan might be one of the best characters of all time. I really hope that Jason Dohring is not a Scientologist. It's too disturbing to contemplate, really. I think part of the reason that so many fans want Veronica and Logan together is just to have Kristen Bell and Jason Dohring onscreen at the same time as often as possible because it practically melts from the combustion of their combined explodo talent. This morning I got up and did Week 3, Day 3. And I'm wondering if maybe I need to repeat Week 3 next week, because I can barely run for three minutes and am wondering how in the hell I'm supposed to be able to run for five. Also, for Week 4, it says to jog 1/2 mile (or 5 minutes) -- what if I can't jog 1/2 mile in 5 minutes? Am I supposed to jog 1/2 mile or jog for 5 minutes? Please let me know if you've done this and know what's what. It's all kind of confusing. Don't get me wrong; I think it's a good program. But it's not easy, and the jump from Week 4 to Week 5 seems mighty indeed. I guess I'll just deal with that when I get to it. Today's favorite treadmill songs: Get Up by Bleu and They Both Reached for the Gun, even though on that one I found myself cocking my head on all of the Roxie parts like I was a puppet and Billy Flynn was my puppet master. This morning I didn't take my thyroid pill right when I woke up as usual because you're supposed to take it on an empty stomach and I couldn't go to the gym without eating something first, duh. By about 10:00 I was supremely groggy and out of it until it occurred to me that I needed to take it, and after I did, I felt almost instantly more awake and clear-headed. It's weird but also kind of reassuring when you can realize the almost immediate effect of a medication like that. Last night while in Old Navy I was talking to Maryelizabeth and she asked me about gaucho pants. I was like, "What in the hell is a gaucho?" I still have no idea. And then I asked her, "Who decided that the resurrection of bermuda shorts was a good idea?" And immediately a woman wearing said shorts appeared beside me who'd clearly heard me pose the question and I could say nothing but, "Boy, those actually look good on you." (Which they did.) She confessed that she, too, was puzzled by their reentry into the fashion world but that nothing else seems to be for sale these days so she tried them and voila. So I tried some on and was surprised that I didn't hate them. I liked the colors (a sort of light olivey green, chocolate brown) I tried on, and I liked that they basically look like untailored cutoff pants. So I bought two pairs of them and I am still not sure of my decision, but what're you gonna do? I need shorts. I also bought a few tank tops, a few v-neck t-shirts, and even though they sort of make me look like an extra in a theatrical version of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, these. :::
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