Horse's Ass Pub

Pre-emptive apology to the rest of the world if this happens.

2008-09-03T06:26:00.000-07:00

This religious nutball could end up being one aneurysm away from the presidency of the United States of America.

What scares me most is not that she holds these views, but that there just might be enough fucking wingnuts out there who agree with her to get her in the White House.

I don't often post about my political opinions, but this scares the living piss out of me. I mean...come the fuck ON America. Are we really that stupid?

I'm frightened, disgusted, saddened, and not in the least tiny bit amused.

Who? Me?

2008-08-21T07:49:00.000-07:00

BADGER!!!

Must confess I haven't been watching the Olympics. Yawn. Haven't paid much attention to the popular media at all lately - no IDEA what's going on in the world aside from the obvious things I read on news sites on-line. The war, the election, more shite in Georgia, big plane crash, environmental doom, blah, blah, blah. Yeah, I KNOW. Maybe I should stick my head out of my little warren more often, but I can't be bothered.

My TV is only on lately for baseball games (which I'm only paying passing attention to as I wander the house going "yougonnacleanthisup? yougonnapickthatup? yougonnacooksomething? where's'atbook? catonthelawn! CATONTHELAWN!") and my Netflix DVDs.

RE: The Netflix DVDs. Thanks to Kim and FMC for the Black Books suggestion - it is BRILLIANT. I want a Dylan Moran of my own. Oh yes I do. The scene in the first episode where he's trying to do his taxes and screaming at the instruction booklet is basically a distillation of my inner soul - my inner spirit, made manifest, if you will. What I'm trying to say is that is the normal state of my head. With a soundtrack by Nick Cave. I recognize one of my tribe when I see one. And I'm completely convinced that anything involving Bill Bailey is going to be very, very good indeed.

The Peep Show is also damn funny, but I've only watched a few episodes so far. That's one of those shows that you wince in vicarious embarrassment for the characters, in the same way you are agonizingly entertained by The Office or that scene in Cheers where Woody sings the Kelly song. You just go "oh, don't." And they DO, and you're just uncomfortable as hell, but you watch anyway, even though it's an exquisite agony.

Also, MI-5 is fun. I believed it's called "Spooks" over in the UK. Obviously can't call it that over here, that wouldn't go down well at all. It's so subtle you have to crank the volume to hear the dialogue and then get blasted out of your seat when something explodes, but that's a small price to pay for entertainment that doesn't talk down to - and assumes basic intelligence in - its audience.

Someone has also recently pointed me in the direction of Little Britain. So far, so good - though I'm wondering whether this same set of characters and sketches will get old after a few more episodes. The horrible chav schoolgirl is genius, but the guy who's turned on by the granny is just creepy and tough to watch. We'll see where this goes.

What else? What else...?

Oh, work. I suppose I should do some. Boo.

Out of the pool. OUT!

2008-08-21T07:17:00.000-07:00

It starts innocently enough. A few minor, light-hearted insults over e-mail, an issue or two discussed, worked out (so you think) and the occasional light-hearted reprimand for some imagined slight. Not fun, not comfortable, but you put it behind you, give the other party the benefit of the doubt, call it hormones, life changes, a bad mood, bad meds, bad day, what have you.

Then it begins to build steam. Suddenly, gifts you give are criticized, and the issues and imagined slights get bigger. The insults become more unfair and hurtful. You're to blame for this person's sense of loneliness and isolation even though they're the ones who moved 50 miles away and resent you because you don't shift your whole life out to them. Also, every bad thing in the world is only happening to them, and no one else could POSSIBLY have it as bad as they do - even though they literally have everything they ever said they wanted in the first place. And you realize you can do absolutely nothing right in this person's eyes. Just being you is wrong.

But you keep trying to be cheerful, never let on that this person's behavior and attitude is starting to really smell - and you HOPE against HOPE they're not building up to some kind of showdown or battle. But you know they are, and you can't stop it. And though it gets harder and harder, you keep your communications light, and as supportive as you possibly can. You make jokes, you try your best to get them to see the other side of things - try to get them to have fun, try to get them to appreciate all that they have, and that whatever problems or issues they're going through are temporary, and even though life seems to be crap right now, there are people in the world who have it a SHITLOAD worse, and for a lot longer.

And then what once was a great, warm, supportive, fun friendship is down the toilet because in a moment of insanity YOU TRIED TO MAKE THEM LAUGH by making a joke about a subject that THEY THEMSELVES brought up. I mean to say...How DARE you? Tch. Such audacity! How CAN you be so insensitive as to make a joke, the same kind of joke this person has been laughing at with you for YEARS? You horrible, mean, crass, insensitive cow!

Whew! Had to get that off my chest. I'm all done. This topic will never come up again. Ever.

Fuck, catharsis, what?

Three days left

2008-08-15T06:54:00.000-07:00

Last weekend of vacation is upon me. After Sunday, I shall wave goodbye to the Captain, set the alarm for 6-bloody-AM, and rejoin the working world. I have terribly mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, I'm a bit bored now and won't mind being back in a routine. On the other, let that alarm go off Monday morning and I'll be whinging and moaning that I want another week off. I also kind of got spanked in the weather department this time around, and didn't have money to spend, so I wasn't able to really capitalize on the time off, aside from just being able to putter around the house, get through a couple of books, devote more time to working out, and just relax a bit. Still, I did get through The Origin of Species, and (thanks to YouTube) watched every available episode of a bunch of shows I'd been missing either because they're on when I don't want to be in front of the TV or they're only available in the UK.

Speaking of UK television, can I just say how much BBC America sucks? Seems like they only have about a dozen or so shows in rotation, some of them so old and moldy I don't know why they bother. Checked out their line up and here's what's available to the US audience:

Teen Transsexual
Cash in the Attic
Antiques Roadshow
Graham Norton
Primeval
Bargain Hunt
How Clean is Your House?

Fucking hell - and where's the comedy you may well fucking ask... Well, I'll tell you, in an age when people in the UK are getting such brilliant programming as QI, do you know what we're getting over here for English comedy?

MONTY FUCKING PYTHON'S FLYING FUCKING CIRCUS

I mean, FELLAS! Let it go! It was great, but 30 years have passed! Why is the assumption that US viewers who like English comedy are ONLY interested in Monty Fucking Python?

Still, at least it's not Are You Being Served. That's on PBS. The 'arty' station.

I fear.

Anyway, it's cocktail hour where I am, how about you?

...Sitting down to enjoy my holiday...

2008-08-12T12:00:00.000-07:00

This is my vacation buddy. Isn't he grand? He's versatile, mixes well, tastes wonderful, doesn't leave a hangovery residue, and keeps his mouth shut.

That's it. I just logged in to say that. Now the Captain's giving me that come hither look and I must return to the laziest holiday of my adult life.

If I can just work up the energy to make more ice...

They say Liam Neeson's well-hung.

2008-07-30T06:39:00.000-07:00

Two days till vacation and I have finished all my work - so for the past three days I've been sitting in my office for 8 hours a day, with literally NOTHING to do.

So you know what I'm doing? I'm on YouTube, watching just about everything, but mostly full episodes of QI.

And developing a disturbing and unhealthy crush on Alan Davies.

Oh, don't start.

I've also watched full episodes of Dr. Who, Jonathan Creek, and MI-5. All the while, squinting at my computer screen, and holding a clipboard on my lap, a pen in my mouth, trying to look as busy as possible doing work. Work that I don't have.

I don't think anyone has been fooled. The headphones and barely-controlled giggling have surely tipped people off. And my impromptu Stephen Fry impersonations, I am convinced, have everyone wishing my vacation had started last week.

How great is HE, by the way? We need one of those over here.

Christ, I'm bored.

Monsoon season!

2008-07-24T07:00:00.000-07:00

What the fuck? I love a good thunderstorm, the louder, boomier, crashier, flashier the better. But after a couple of weeks of pretty much daily thunderstorms, it has become a tad tiresome. I can honestly say that the novelty has most definitely worn off. And I'm becoming tiresome about it too - I WILL repeat "Hey, Florida called, they want their weather back" until SOMEBODY laughs. I fucking mean it.

But yesterday's storm was the most alarming one so far. Funnel clouds? Off the coast of New England? Those of you out there who think climate change is a left wing scare tactic, I'd like to put it to you - why is the Northeast getting all this awful tropical weather? Hmmm? I don't care what anyone says, THIS IS NOT FUCKING NORMAL. Anyway, I'm almost sure Pat Robertson will say we're getting poked on the weather because Massachusetts allows gays to get married. That'd be pretty funny.

Here's another thing. Remember last summer, when I bought all those lady bugs and released them in my garden to eat other, more harmful bugs? So that I wouldn't have to spray pesticides and poison my flowers and herbs? So that I would have a healthy, vibrant, pretty lawn and garden that would attract pretty songbirds and colorful butterflies and the like without poisoning anybody? Well, no matter if YOU remember: I DID. I DID buy all those ladybugs, paid for shipping, kept them in the fridge to freak SPOUSE out (he doesn't like bugs) and then waited for an evening with the perfect weather/wind conditions to set them free on our property, thinking oh, how great to be environmentally conscious and nice to the earth and to my fellow creatures.

And then they all promptly fucked right off. Couldn't find a ladybug on our lot for the rest of the summer.

So a couple of weeks ago we went to a neighborhood barbecue and everyone was talking about the GREAT LADYBUG INVASION OF 2007. Seems all the ungrateful little bitches went to everyone else's houses, and set up residence in their yards, porches, and kitchens, instead of taking care of mine. Huh.

Hey, neighbors. YOU'RE WELCOME.

Another religion/etiquette question

2008-07-17T10:50:00.001-07:00

I have another problem with religious etiquette and I'd like some input on this one. This is serious, not so much the hooch-fuelled rant of 4 July, as a serious question about etiquette and when and where religious practices are appropriate or not. And what the hell is up with the inconsistency in this one practice.

Okay, I was just introduced to someone who is an Orthodox Jewish male. I went to shake his hand, and he refused, just saying "Sorry, I'm not allowed."

I made the assumption that it's because I'm female. I tried to think of some other reason - he certainly couldn't tell anything about me, my cultural background, religious or non-religious leanings, etc. just by looking at me - the only visible cue he had to go on was my gender. So, right, must be the female thing. Putting aside that this is just another example of misogyny-with-a-religious-excuse, and just about all religions have them, so I'm not picking on the Jews here, AT ALL, I didn't say anything, just passed it off quietly in the name of not making a scene or causing discomfort.

BUT: A few minutes later, when he was introduced to another female, this time a member of our faculty, I looked over and, you guessed it, he shook her hand!

Now, I am a clean person, he certainly didn't see me handling food before the introduction, or coming out of a bathroom or anything. I literally stepped off an elevator, and was introduced to several people, him being the last I came to. And when I got back to my office I immediately googled a few phrases or words to see if I could come up with some answer, but none was to be had. Some Orthodox Jewish males do not shake hands with women, fine, my google search revealed that quickly enough. So, wrong and stupid and backwards and caveman and misogynist as I think that is, I'm just...whatever, dude.

But why not shake hands with me, but then shake hands with another female - in the same context, event, room, program, etc.? Is it my long hair? Did he make an assumption about my marital status? Does it have anything to DO with marital status and any assumptions he may have gotten wrong? (For example, the other woman he DID shake hands with is married - but so am I, and my ring is displayed just as obviously as hers. Nah, that can't be it.)

Anybody got an answer for this? Because, frankly, I am a little bit, shall we say, verklempt?

Submitted for your enjoyment...

2008-07-14T17:36:00.000-07:00

What the...?

I wish Kingsley was still alive, because I would PAY to be a fly on the wall as someone shows him this. I'm pretty sure he would implode.

Happy Friday, My Gentle Little Petunias...

2008-07-11T11:28:00.000-07:00

I live for Fridays, I really do. It's a bit sad, but there it is.

In the mood for a good jukebox, a ton of Guinness, the ballgame on the big screen, some good conversation, a bunch of laughs - all within a mile from home. Truth be told, I'm pretty much ALWAYS in this mood, except when I'm not. Sometimes I'm after vodka.

Anyway - off to the pub.

OH for the love of Salma.

2008-07-04T15:55:00.001-07:00

You guys!

I just got back from a barbecue. Everyone was having fun: the food was cooking,lovely smells wafting across the yard, kids in the pool, lots of beers everywhere, a few folks with the hard stuff, some sangria, lots of laughs, sports discussions, general social catching up, the game on the outdoor TV, Sox beating the Yankees, etc.

All good, right? Small town America, celebrating a national holiday. Sweet.

So a large bunch of food comes off the grill, right, a HUGE platter of chicken, steak, pulled pork, burgers, dogs, veggie stuff, the works. It's all good. And then...

And THEN: We all had to gather while someone said GRACE! Seriously, 50 people, regardless of religious belief - OR LACK OF - were all expected to stand around and give homage to this ONE person's imaginary friend.

Fucking hell.

What do you do when this happens? Is there a chapter in the Miss Manners Guide for something like this?

What gets on my tits is this: If I had actually actively dipped out or not participated in this 'ceremony' would it have been obvious and caused some kind of offense? And if so, why then is it okay for someone's religious beliefs to highjack (word used absolutely fucking on purpose) the day and this point in time for EVERYONE at the BBQ, when this person did not KNOW many of the people there, and could not judge what religious beliefs everyone else held, if any, when my LACK of religious beliefs would have caused offense?

Why is it okay to blast your religious beliefs to a crowd of unknown people, when it's offensive to express the opinion that you're atheist?

I've walked on egg shells for too fucking long. It is time for me to start getting militant about this.

It starts here. I don't want to hear any fucking church bells this weekend. It OFFENDS me that other people's religious beliefs interfere with my fucking Sunday morning lie-in. Got it?

Good.

That is all.

Things I don't need in my inbox

2008-07-03T07:13:00.000-07:00

No pun intended.

So, I'm getting some interesting spam in my yahoo account lately. Aside from the viagra offers (how do they KNOW I speak German?) and invitations to view people masturbating on their web cams (Yeeeah, no, I'm good, thanks), the latest seem to be offers to join over-40 dating services. Fuck that. If I suddenly find myself single again (not likely) I would totally have a mid-life crisis and get something younger. Not illegal, I'm no pervert, but something ...uncomplicated by age and experience. In boots. Sinewy. With good teeth. A tool belt is good. I'm a simple person.

Holy shit, I just described the construction worker from the Village People.

Think I'll stop here with this line of thought.
Let's look at a video:

Think I'll form a Stranglers cover band. Who's in?

I'm fine, really, thanks for asking.

2008-06-19T10:19:00.001-07:00

It's hard not to think my life is charmed in some way.

Don't expect much from this blog post.

2008-06-13T13:00:00.000-07:00

I'm just saying...

And with that, I say happy weekend. I'm off to celebrate the Celtics in a very loud and inappropriate manner.

It's NOT just me!

2008-05-28T08:17:00.000-07:00

For the last couple of years I've been noticing something about the last few crops of masters and doctoral students entering the program I work for. It is this: We are currently seeing a generation of the most spoiled, self-absorbed, arrogant little bastards EVER to enter higher education and the work force. The first thing they do on entering the program, before they've even finished a semester's worth of classes, is bitch about something. They get courted by our faculty, apply to the program, get accepted, get funded like I've never seen a group of students get funded, (most FULLY funded through fellowships and grants), and yet...and YET - the complaints about how the program is run, the classes offered, the program requirements, time limits, even the level of intellectual vigor - are all I'm hearing. We even had one, before he even started the program, complaining to a donor that he had not received the fellowship he thought he deserved. It got back to our dean, causing a whole lot of sturm and drang about the...what's the word, unfairness of it? Unfairness bollocks. This is just one small case in point - but it's indicative of the trend with this crew - they'd rather complain and claim phantom abuses than try to accept the possibility that SOMEONE out there MAY have been an eentsy bit more deserving.

Are we dealing with the first generation for whom there was ALWAYS a chair at musical chairs? Is this the crew that received a trophy for running the race, whether they came in first or dead last? Is this what happens when an entire generation is raised to believe that they are the center of the universe because mommy and daddy and Mr. Rogers say so?

I have been thinking about this a lot, and at first I was just wondering whether it was a function of my age - as in, 'oh, kids today - they have it SO EASY. They have no idea how to work hard, what it's like to not have everything handed to them, yadda, yadda..." And I was SURE I was just being and old grouch, letting my envy get the better of me.

But here's the thing: It's come to my attention that I'm not the only person noticing. They were recently profiled on 60 Minutes and I recognized them immediately. Seems they're called the "Millenials" and they are making me seethe. You little 'I'm special' fuckers, whose parents worshipped the shit out of you need to wake up and stop behaving as though the world owes you something just for being you. Sit down, shut the fuck up, and learn something.

I hope this little experiment has failed. Let's go back to trophies only for first and second place, winners and losers, and kids learning the lesson that the world does not revolve around their spoiled little arses.

Not dead.

2008-05-23T11:33:00.000-07:00

Friday, mid-afternoon in the office.

Where Time goes to die.

Wellllll now...it's been almost a month since my last post. How's everyone been? Is anyone still checking in? .......Anyone?

Hellooooooooo......

Been BUSY. I've never been so busy. Doing what, I'm not entirely sure - just working and going home and doing stuff there. Nothing out of the ordinary - haven't even had a transcription job in months. Miss the extra cash, but not terribly. Certainly don't miss spending lunch hours, evenings, and weekends listening to other people's mumblings and stupidity.

Christ, interacting with people is bad enough without having the human voice yaddering directly into my ear canal.

Let's look at some art. Here's William Blake's The Ghost of a Flea, 1819-1820.

Harrumph. One of our Bill's nightmare visions, it appears. What's in the basket, and what's he doing with his right hand? Looks like he's pulling a wedgie out. Needs to be careful with those nails. Read a biography of Blake a few years back. Don't remember any of it.

Happy Friday everyone. I'm 45 minutes away from a beer, and when the clock strikes 5 I'll be hell for leather to get to it. What's everybody reading? Anything good?

Me as was.

2008-04-24T15:30:00.000-07:00

Inspired by Medbh's outing herself on her blog, with a photo of herself in the 80's.

Here I am, with my dyed black hair and (gasp) is that EYE MAKEUP? Must be. Nobody's eyelids are orange unless they missed their shots.

The year - I believe it's 1988. An apartment in the student ghetto of Allston, Massachusetts.

Look at that skin, huh?

This black hair didn't last long. The dye was messy and dyed the skin around my face and ears for about a week after each touch-up, and as my ginger grew out, the part looked just awful. My poor mother thought I was going bald when my ginger and pale scalp started showing.

I'd do it again, though. I liked that Louise Brooks haircut. My friend Kim did that with the help of some clippers and about a dozen Heinekens. I wonder where she is now. She should move back here. I need drinking buddies and a way to avoid going to Supercuts.

So. That's me. EGAD - 20 years ago.

Factory farming is bad enough...

2008-04-16T06:59:00.000-07:00

Fuck. Now I don't even want to eat fish anymore.

Clicky, clicky.

Nothing to see here folks.

2008-04-15T09:28:00.000-07:00

Just had one of those odd, irritating experiences with someone's odd, irritating personal communication styles.

To wit: Have you ever met someone who has the disconcerting habit of just watching you speak, and even after you've said something and stopped talking, they don't reply - but just continue looking at you? You finish a statement, expect an interaction - you're clearly done with the thought and are putting it to them to respond - and they don't, they just stare, as if the pause in the conversation is entirely for YOU to fill, even though it's their turn? What the hell are they waiting for?

Very off-putting, I must say. Couldn't wait for this bint to leave my office so I could check to see if I'd grown a moustache or something.

HANG UP AND DRIVE!

2008-04-04T06:12:00.000-07:00

So - this is a question for those in the Boston/Watertown/Waltham area yesterday.

Was it my imagination or were there MILLIONS more cars on the road than usual for the morning and evening commutes? I noticed it - and today was back to normal, so I can't figure out what caused that. Was there an idiot convention in town? Because let me tell you, it wasn't just a lot of cars, it was a lot of cars being driven really badly.

Here's a few things I noticed:

1. About 90% of the other drivers on my commute last night were on cell phones. Narrowly avoided an accident or two and let's guess the cause, shall we? Assholes.

2. At just about every intersection, there were cars blocking passage through when the light turned green. Here's a thought, if you can see that you won't be able to get through to the other side of the intersection and you enter it anyway, blocking cross traffic when their light turns green? You need to have your license revoked. And yes, the two or three people I saw yesterday get into accidents because of this behavior absolutely deserved it. Greenough Boulevard onto Western Ave. - you know who you are. That'll teach you, shit-for-brains.

3. Everyone, please, pick a lane. You don't have to stay in it forever, just pick one, and if you need to change later on, signal. If you do it right, you'll get in the lane you want and no one will hit you, or hate you.

4. If I can hear your car stereo, it is too fucking loud. If you have a dog in the back seat while your stereo is making your car shake - you are abusing that animal and should have it taken away from you. Do you have any idea how painful it must be to an animal with ears that sensitive? If it's loud enough to make MY car shake, you are not just damaging your own ears, and forcing your shitty musical taste on those around you, you are destroying your pet's ears, causing it physical pain, and therefore, you guessed it, you are an asshole.

5. And the one guy, smoking a cigarette with a small child in the back seat. REALLY? Have you not paid attention lo, these last 30 years, to all that we have learned about not smoking around children? Serves you right if the kid pukes all over you when you get where you're going.

That is all.

As I suspected.

2008-04-03T12:22:00.000-07:00

Created by OnePlusYou

Sniff...I've never felt so proud.

Balls.

2008-03-28T06:15:00.000-07:00

Here is the one unchanging law in my life: the second I have any extra cash in my bank account that isn't earmarked for rent/mortgage, bills, car payments, or other living expenses - the very instant I feel like I'm doing a little better than just breaking even - my pet, whatever pet I happen to have at the time, will need expensive surgery. There's no getting around it. Extra cash for fun things, that leather jacket I've had my eye on, maybe a piece of real furniture to replace some old piece of shit I got at a garage sale in 1987, or simply put into savings for a rainy day, is evidently NOT ALLOWED.

For I just learned that The Calico - Lieutenant Vinegar Matilda 'Fraid o' Nuthin' Badass Calico of Doom - my Second in Command - needs to have a growth removed from her ear and we just got the estimate from the vet's office. $600 plus for the removal of a growth that may or may not be benign - but we won't know until they remove it. How much do you want to bet that that amount is EXACTLY the amount of our state tax refund.

I just BET.

But I have to do it. This cat is too good, too cool, too necessary to me to take a chance on this thing not being benign. Nothing for it but to do this the right way, and soon - just in case. So, on April 15 (tax day, no shit, gotta love the almost teleological synchronicity there, huh?) she goes under for the third surgery of her life. She'll do fine, of course, for she is made of nails and a motorcycle engine. And when the biopsy comes back, they'll say "oh, it was nothing, a completely benign little growth...but aren't you glad you know for sure?" And then I'll rub her little head and say "you better not have any more little issues, because if you do, it's curtains." And not really mean it.

No joke, this has happened with most of the pets I've owned since moving to the Boston area and their health and upkeep was my financial responsibility. Get a few extra bucks - oh look, the cat's limping. Finally ahead on the debt? What's that wheezing sound?

I love all of my cats very much, but once they start dying, I think I'll replace them with guinea pigs. Nobody takes guinea pigs to the vet for expensive procedures, yearly vet exams, or vaccinations. They live for a few years, then some morning you find a stiff little cavvy corpse in the cage, which you then bury in a shoe box in the back yard. No fuss, no muss. Of course, I don't really MEAN it. Of COURSE I'll get more cats. Maybe a dog.

I am hopeless.

Toys for masochists

2008-03-26T07:39:00.000-07:00

Years of working in shipping/receiving, lifting things that were probably too heavy for my small frame, and lower back - or lifting them wrong - have basically ruined my back for any kind of abdominal exercises. I literally cannot do any kind of sit-up or crunch - or at least not more than two or three before my lower back says, "Hey now, fucking stop this RIGHT NOW or end up in traction. I said STOP."

However, I have finally found a simple ab exercise that doesn't murder the lower back and bring me to tears. Meet my little friend, the ab wheel. Looks innocent enough, non? Don't let it fool you. This is an instrument of torture that would have given Urgha, Inquisition Torturer, kitten killer, and all-around bastard a righteous stiffy. But it is an instrument of torture for the abs, upper arms, and shoulders. To the lower back, nothing much at all. For all I know, as a bonus, it may even help strengthen the lower back and build core strength.

However - if the instructions say "do 7 reps" - DO NOT under ANY circumstances, do 14 of them, smartass.

Whimper.

That is all.

Gurgle.

2008-03-24T06:51:00.000-07:00

On a typical Sunday, I try to work out a little harder than other days of the week, because; A) I have the time, B) Saturdays usually involve more fatty foods and a LOT more beer or wine than I drink any other day of the week and need to relieve some of the guilt, and burn some excess fat calories, and C) Monday is a rest day anyway. I can never get up early enough for a workout on Mondays, since I can never get enough sleep Sunday nights, for worrying about...getting enough sleep. See what an awful feedback loop that is? It's ghastly.

But it seems even with the gruelling workout, all my afternoon chores and housecleaning, errands run, big dinner and the reward of a few glasses of nice red wine and some relaxing television, my brain doesn't want to shut down. And because most Sunday night TV is either too violent or insipid, that's when I watch some costume drama or other - Jane Austen, the Brontes, Anna Karenina - whatever features good looking leading men in high boots on horseback. I'm not very romantic, but put a good looking fella in high boots on a horse and now you're talking. And I can't watch anything too violent or scary when I'm detoxing from Saturday or I'll have nightmares. So there's my excuse.

Last night, I was awakened from an absolutely lovely (FILTHY) dream involving Kevin McKidd with his Alexei Vronsky costume draped over a chair, and a little trick he did with his...ummm...never you mind.

3:50 - Whuh. Now THAT was interesting. Didn't think I liked blonds. Go back to sleep, go back to sleep, go back to sleep...

4:10 - Shit. I'm not going back to sleep. That Mr. Knightly in tonight's "Emma" wasn't nearly as good looking as I would like. Way too much forehead. Not fond of Emma anyway, she's almost as insipid as that one in "Mansfield Park" with the big teeth. Okay, if I can't get back to sleep in half an hour, I'll get up and do some reading.

4:30 - Getting that new computer at work - remind myself to look again for any files I forgot to back up. Don't think about WORK! Go back to sleep. I think I already sent that e-mail...Do I need to pee?

4:45 - Okay, give this another 20 minutes and if I don't go back to sleep I'll get up and get stuff done. Maybe I could do a few minutes of cardio - a little bonus workout, since I'm so restless. But then I'll be luggage at work all afternoon when I finally crash.

4:55 - Shit. If I go back to sleep now I can still get a couple of good hours before the alarm goes off. Come on. Damn, that cat is the loudest bather I've ever heard. Okay, maybe a workout and I can make a sandwich for my lunch, maybe gurgle up a blog post or something.

5:15 - Did we leave the toaster oven on? Should I go down to check? Do I need to pee? What's the next Austen thing on Masterpiece Classics? Sense and Sensibility? Did I like the Emma Thompson version? Don't like Hugh Grant, but Alan Rickman is always good.

5:30 - Wha...? Was I dozing? Thanks, purring kitty, for waking me up. Almost got five minutes there. Why do you need to be on my head? Don't yawn in my face - too late. Ugh.

5:45 - Remind myself to follow up with that student who's about to get kicked out for lack of progress. Don't think about work! Don't start composing that e-mail now. Do I need to pee?

6:00 - Okay. Relax - don't move that foot, if the cat wakes up she'll want to play. WHY HAS ALAN RICKMAN NEVER BEEN CAST AS MR. KNIGHTLY? Or has he in some production I don't know about? Hmmm.

6:00 - ZZZZZZZZZZZ....Wha? Jesus! Those recycling guys come by earlier and earlier every week. Beep, beep, beep, SLAM! We must be the first area on their route. I'd hate to have their job.

6:30 - ZZZZZZZZZZZ.....

7:00 - ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ......

7:20 - Buzzzzz. GAHHHHHH! Snooze button.

7:30 - Buzzzzzz. Oh hell no. Snooze button.

7:40 - Mffff! Cry, cry. Up.

Don't wait up

2008-03-20T06:47:00.000-07:00

Pogues, Boston. Tonight. Meeting best mate and drinking enough before the show to put Shane to Shame. Or at least enough to invite Ab Fab comparisons. Sadly, I'm the short one. (Ha!)

EEEP!

I'm off.