Let me tell you about how last night I cleaned my apartment, made some bland risotto (courtesy of the New York Times, bunch of saltless commie bastards), drank some red wine, and watched the Lifetime Original Movie Lizzie Borden Took an Axe, starring Christina Ricci, quickly followed by a History Channel documentary about Lizzie Borden I found on You Tube, which judging from the blush to cheek ratio on some of the female historians seemed to be made sometime in the early 90's.
And that was the most exciting thing that happened all week.
I wish I had the talent as a writer to make the most mundane things appear compelling. But, when glancing back at the past seven days to see a succession of late nights at the office, reruns of 30 Rock, dentist appointments, gray mornings spent scouring my mostly dark and fall colored wardrobe for spring pastels (only to discover that every light colored thing I own, somewhere on its person, bears a coffee stain--the official seal of a chronic spiller) and generally feeling stressed and overwhelmed with life...
...nope, I got nothing.
How about this?
Headline maker? More like meatloaf baker. Wry wielding wordsmith Wendy completes first poem in four months and celebrates by making pinterested turkey meatloaf recipe and purchasing box of hazelnut granola.
[sound of crickets and tumbleweed blows across computer screen]
Yeah. That's what I thought.
Anyways, with all the non-bloggable things going on recently, there have been a few things keeping me relatively sane.
This is one of them.
|My sunlit kitchen|
70 degrees and sunny. How many hours do you think I can stay inside watching old episodes of Pregnant in Heels before I begin to hate myself for not being out and enjoying that? I'll give you a hint: too many.
This is another:
It's a podcast called How Did This Get Made, in which comedians Jason Mantzoukas, Paul Scheer (both of whom you would recognize from Parks and Recreations), and June Diane Raphael (who's in Party Down and New Girl) analyze terrible movies like Congo, Fair Game, the Room, The Wicker Man, etc. Reader, there is something you need to know about me: there are few greater pleasures for me than making fun of a bad movie. It's the reason I love Rifftrax and Mystery Science Theater so much. It's just so incredibly satisfying. Recently Moses and I have been listening to these together before going to bed and I've been falling asleep in the best mood. Of course, I still wake up a meaner and uglier version of Ursula from Little Mermaid but that will always be the case because--now, brace yourself for this shock--I am not a morning person.
|Me. want. coffee.|
And I know I said I would never be one of those people who enjoy working out--and I'm not--but I really enjoy using the Fitness Blender website. They have variety of different workouts for FREE (?!), that are challenging, have a helpful countdown in the upper right hand side of the screen for each move (so you can stare at that, willing it to move lower instead of just internally counting down and praying for death), and also give you a range of approximately the number of calories you will burn doing each workout, which is super helpful for me, since I don't own a heart rate monitor. I will usually select the higher calorie burn workouts because when it comes to working out, I don't mess around; I want to burn as many calories as possible in the shortest amount of time because every second spent working out is a second not spent doing literally anything else.
I know I probably should invest in a heart rate monitor but they are like $60-$100 and I would rather spend that money on shoes. I unfortunately was not smart enough to remember to ask for it for Christmas, which is when I usually like to request items that I really don't want to purchase myself: like a potato masher or allergy medication.
And I know this doesn't have anything to do with anything but I came to the realization recently that my hair grows incredibly fast, which is perhaps one of the saddest realizations of my adult life. I can't believe it took me this long to recognize it. On a related to note to that note that had nothing to do with the one that came before it, I must leave you now reader, because my eye brows have now become a situation that needs to be dealt with.
Incidentally, my dad once asked me why I plucked my eyebrows and I paused and told him that if I didn't I would look like this:
I only wish I were kidding.
Oh my god, this post will not end. Why won't it end!?
Okay, I think that is an appropriately weird ending to an otherwise entirely useless post.
I'm so glad I decided to blog today.
(I bet you are too.)