 End of the Month |
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Grace's latest entry gave me chills. As did the entire series of Erin's wedding entries. I stepped on the scale this weekend after not weighing myself for more than a month, and I had lost 4.8 pounds without dieting for one single solitary second and in fact after subsisting solely on large bowls of plain buttered pasta and hot chocolate and Reese's peanut butter cup Christmas trees for the past several weeks. Tonight I'm taking a walk around my neighborhood with my mom just to do SOMETHING. It's like I really do have this burning desire to exercise and be healthy, but it's always squashed by the desire to lie on the couch and watch DVDs or read Us Weekly. Today I actually wasted important speech writing time by perusing marathon training websites, as if I could ever actually train for a marathon when I can't run for more than a few minutes straight! I don't know what is wrong with me. It's like in my dreams, I am fit and healthy, but in real life, I am a sloth-like cow. Last week, I found half of my Lance Armstrong bracelet lying on the bathroom floor covered in toothmarks. I figured that one of the animals had chewed it in half and that the other piece was probably lying abandoned under the bed or dresser. Last night, after hearing her emit an anguished wail, I rushed to the foyer to find Marley staring at a little slimy pile of barfed up hair and the other half of the bracelet. She seems to be fine. I cannot imagine how uncomfortable it must have been for something that size to be regurgitated so spectacularly out of something the size of a cat's throat. I am thankful that my wrists are so freakishly small that I had the youth size bracelet. And also that she did not do it on the area rug. How is it possible that tomorrow is the first day of December? I always listen to the Anastasia soundtrack this time of year. "Dancing bears, painted wings, things I almost remember. And a song someone sings once upon a December." I love Liz Callaway, and the songs are by the team who composed Ragtime. What more can you ask? I just got the cash back from my refinance which I will use to pay off the last of my Visa bill from our trip this summer, and that makes me really happy. I really need to come up with some kind of financial plan with the influx of money I will now have with my cheaper mortgage payment, no car note, no Visa payment, no flooring payment, et cetera. It's kind of overwhelming to contemplate. I am reading Taking Care of Terrific for the one zillionth time. I am seriously considering breaking down and buying a new copy because mine is more than twenty years old and is falling apart at the seams. I don't know how it's possible to love it more every time, but somehow I do. I caught parts of the new A Christmas Carol movie on NBC the other night, and I kind of liked it! I was really scared to hear Jesse L. Martin sing for the first time in years, and I have to say, his ghost of Christmas present was no Tom Collins. But he was still good, and Kelsey Grammar was really kind of wonderful. And I love Jane Krakowski, but that was one slutty dress she was wearing for a family show. Oh, well! I guess it doesn't matter if we could basically see her vagina if we all got the message that Ebenezer changes in the end and hoists Tiny Tim up on his shoulder! I am not one for standards and practices and agree with every single thing that Sars had to say about the issue, but it just seemed like a bizarre choice to make her costume and choreography SO sexualized in a way that it just jumped out as totally out of the style of the rest of the child-friendly production just for the sake of some T&A. I don't know. All of the voices were really good, and I liked the songs. I'll probably watch it again. This is the kind of thing I suspect I would have watched over and over and over when I was a kid. I reminded my little brother the other day how he would watch Rudolph year-round. I neglected to remind him that his favorite movie as a child was Sleeping Beauty because I thought he might hit me with his guitar. About this time in ...
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