It is miserable outside. There is just too much rain mixed in with our snow, and therefore my snow-loving self doesn't know what to think. I can't bring myself to open up my umbrella, since it's snow, and (being a good Midwesterner) I mock those who use umbrellas in the snow -- yet, I keep getting soaking wet. That said, our office manager at work keeps talking about how he doesn't think we'll be here much longer, and perhaps tomorrow will have to be a snow day, etc. While he has no authority over such things, he is GETTING MY HOPES UP, so all I can do is plan how much wine I want to drink with dinner and think about sleeping in. Sigh.
Last night I went to the gym, and since the upright bikes were all taken, I used one of the bikes where you pedal out in front of your body. I've read up on the comparisons between the two styles, and apparently they're pretty similar effectiveness-wise, though it seems easier to do the one where you're more relaxed with a backrest, so therefore I think it's less of a workout. But I made do, and I have decided that my butt feels decidedly exercised, so perhaps there are butt benefits to that style. I need to pump up my butt -- if you've seen it, you know I'm dealing with a sort of flat/heart-shaped box o' chocolates back there. (EW, that just got grosser than I meant it.)
Tonight Mex is coming over for dinner, and I bought a ton of meat on sale at the grocery store last night, so we'll be having $2.19/lb London Broil with baked sweet potatoes and salad. And wine, maybe a lot. I've been marinating the steak overnight in garlic, worcestershire, salt, pepper, rosemary, and dijon all mixed together, so I think it'll be delicious. And not terribly bad for me with the health benefits of a sweet potato and salad greens, yes? I will also have to talk to him about my ending tolerance for this stage of our situation, so I hope that goes OK. I feel all mad, which you know, happens, but I can't exactly unleash a tirade, as that will be very unreasonable and unproductive. And then we will watch ladies' hockey, or as he called it, "US Canada chick-fairy hockey." It's a joke, so don't be offended.
Oh, so those of you who know me well know that I read Gawker obsessively. It's my go-to blog, but I tried to give them a "tip" today and I think I'm getting into a fight* with another commentor (I keep wanting to say commentator, which is more fun.) I will reproduce the exchange for your benefit, though it's not for those with delicate sensibilities:
ME: I am way behind the times on this, but thought it a bit curious: Pre-Precious release, I read the NY Mag review of it which said that the mother genitally fingered the daughter. Based on that mental image, I declined to see the movie, finding it too disturbing. However, a friend finally saw it last night and informed me that there wasn't any shown fingering -- there was only implied sexual abuse by the mother. Why report it if it's not true?
OTHER COMMENTOR: You are expecting a screenplay to be a documentary?
ME: When the review said "She’s also sexually molested by her jealous, welfare-cheating, gross, and sedentary mother, although the genital fingering might seem preferable to the verbal and physical abuse," I thought it would be shown. I'm not criticizing the movie; I'm saying I was perhaps dissuaded from seeing it because of the review. I take it you find my discomfort at seeing such imagery to be backwoods, so I can only wish you well on your quest for incestual pornographic imagery. To each his/her own.
I mean, COME ON, leave me alone, too-cool-for-school internet person. Though I realize I asked for it by trying to participate. I should remember my late-high-school mantra: don't participate.
In other great news, I was chatting with Blackbeard a few minutes ago. One of the bosses here is named Ian, and often callers will ask me if it's pronounced Eye-an or Eee-an. So I asked Blackbeard if he's ever knew of an Eye-an, because really, that's silly, and he said "Well, other than that Ian guy from 90210..." and he melted my heart EVEN MORE. I was visibly excited that he referenced Ian Ziering. I mean, it's clear we're soulmates, yes? Maybe every time we have an awkward conversation, he's as upset about it as I am. It's so romantic.
Oh, another charming thing today was that I overheard a UPS delivery man trying to quickly explain Lost to an office building super. It was clearly too difficult of a task, so he gave up, but the conversation went something like this:
UPS guy: Did you see Lost last night, man?
Super: No, I can't keep up with that sh*t. Didn't they crash on an island?
UPS guy: Well, yeah, but it's much more than that.
Super: What do you mean? Why doesn't someone come and rescue them at the end?
UPS guy: Let's put it this way: The island is alive.
Super: With what?! Monsters? Animals?
UPS guy: Spirits, man. That's all I can say. Right?
[At this point he knew I was listening and smiling, so he tapped my arm, looking for affirmation. I gave it.]
Ok, ok, food:
B - coffee, Special K cereal, skim milk (5)
L - low-salt turkey and muenster on sandwich thin, L&T, Miracle Whip light and mustard; apple (5)
D - steak; sweet potato; salad with tomatoes, cukes and feta (?)
S - Dannon Light & Fit yogurt (1); granny bar (2); wine (?)
Total - a little extra
Activity - crying and/or cuddling
*This "fight" may only be in my head. What do you think?