Randomness

1. Can someone please explain to me why, even though I quit smoking over 5 years ago, and DC bars are now smoke free, I woke up Sunday feeling like someone had sandpapered the inside of my throat. It’s just not fair, people.

2. I spent most of Sunday in bed. Every 3 or 4 months, my stomach rebels against my daily treatment of it. It holds up a white flag, screams “no mas,” and subjects me to excruciating pain for no apparent reason. The only way to deal with this is to spend the day in bed, groaning and eating bland food. I crawled out of bed and attempted to eat breakfast, which left me writing in pain on the couch. I soon returned to my bed, equipped with lots of magazines and DVDs. Sadly, The Princess Diaries was not nearly as entertaining as I had hoped*, although it did elicit the same response from both Lord Kissington and me: “Damn, Julie Andrews still looks pretty good.” (I have to put in a disclaimer, lest Lord Kissington want guest post privileges to rebut me: He wasn’t actually watching it, he just happened to wander into the room when Miss Andrews was on screen.)

3. Lord Kissington has excitedly informed me that next year, Lost won’t be coming on until the second half of the season, which will give me “plenty of time to watch season 3 on DVD!” I stopped watching after the first couple of episodes last fall, which would mean I have about 17 or 18 to watch (although I do know some major plot points from wandering in and out of the room while he was watching). Is it even worth going back? The few episodes I watched made me want to throw things at the TV.

4. This morning, I trotted out of the house with freshly shaven, extra-moisturized legs. When I arrived at work, I looked down to find them covered with mud splatters (almost up to my knee on the right leg). Had I inadvertently walked through a field on my commute? Not likely in my neighborhood. How did I not notice all this mud splashing on me? Apparently, the moisturizer really helped the mud cling. Very attractive.

5. I almost took a header off a bar stool on Saturday night, having caught my heel on a rung, but I somehow managed to not end up face first on the floor. It wasn’t particularly graceful, but it wasn’t completely embarrassing either. I should add that I was sober.

6. Did anyone else hate Spiderman III as much as I did? All I could think at the end of it was “that’s 10 bucks and 2.5 hours of my life I’ll never get back.” Hint to the filmmakers: introducing a new character as a potential romantic foil doesn’t really work when the new character appears to be mentally challenged. (An out-of-control beam is heading for the window you’re standing in front of, so you, of course, walk toward the window?) Also, any movie that messes up James Franco’s pretty, pretty face is just wrong. So wrong.

*An ongoing issue with having such a long Netflix queue is that all those movies I put on there in a flush of enthusiasm 18 months ago no longer seem quite so watchable now. After watching this one, I moved The Princess Diaries 2 (which was next on the list) far far down (I couldn’t quite bring myself to delete it; it probably has something to do with my love for Julie Andrews). When it shows up in another two years, maybe I’ll be more in the mood for it.