Thursday, November 30, 2006

Done and done


And I mean DONE.

Also, the Hilarity Patrol strikes again. Andrew Sullivan has a gift for finding these things. If you're a Mormon or an otherwise proseltyzing Christian and don't have a sense of humor, sorry, but you kinda have it coming.

And oh yes, let's not forget the list!

What I Want for Christmas

2. To live in a climate where the high will almost surely never be 68 degrees on Nov. 30. I mean, come on. I may as well be living in Florida. (And I HATE Florida.)

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

All I want for Christmas: the list

OK, I've decided to be a copycat and make a long list for this month: 25 things I want for Christmas. Not that anybody cares what I want for Christmas, but I can't think of any other list to do so you'll just have to put up with it. And unfortunately Blogger isn't savvy enough to let me create multiple pages, so I'm just gonna have to add another item to the list day by day, without making a separate page for it. Sorry.

What I Want For Christmas

1. For my leg not to melt into a puddle of pain every time I attempt exercise. As a corollary to this wish, I also want to be able to run three miles by Dec. 25. Will it happen? I don't know.

Elementary, my dear Watson

So I went to the doctor on Monday. His genius diagnosis:--wait for it--my right leg is weak. BRILLIANT DEDUCTION, HOLMES! Thank God I went to a trained physician, I never would have been able to come up with that on my own! I can see those four years in medical school really paid off.

However, the physical therapist I went to see this morning was much more enlightening (the same physical therapist, who, by the way, does not have an M.D.). He explained what he thinks the problem is, which made a lot of sense to me, and showed me a bunch of things I can do help strengthen the muscles and tendons and shiznit in my leg. So yay for physical therapists--I may just start going to physical therapists for all my medical needs.

Anyhoo. That's basically all the news I have to report. I'm hoping to have my filthy crapfest of a novel "finished" by tonight, which means I should have a very neat little icon to put on my blog soon that says I'm a proud winner of NaNoWriMo. Be on the look-out.

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

Happy American Thanksgiving, and stuff(ing)

So my leg hasn't fallen off yet but I am continuing my hiatus of exercise, wallowing in every ounce of fat I consume, just to insure that gangrene doesn't set in. That's totally a joke, since my pain originates neither from a gunshot wound nor from a stabbing, but from some wacky joint thing. Anyway.

You know how I'm doing the NaNoWriMo thing? It's going both well and poorly; well because I'm at 35,000 words plus some (the goal is 50,000 by Nov. 30), poorly because I've realized that my so-called novel is a) just insanely boring, and b) not the work of staggering genius I had envisioned. These sorts of realizations tend to depress me, I don't know why. I've tried to give myself the it-doesn't-matter-that-you-write-like-crap-and-will-never-be-published-and-
your-goals-in-life-are-LAUGHABLE pep talk, but I still get a little down when I have one of those flashes of insight where I suddenly see that I will never be rich and famous and no one will ever give me a Pulitzer Prize and I will never marry Colin Firth and live in a mansion in a sunny climate. Because I don't know about you, but when I was younger (like, say, 22) I used to have these fantasies that one day very soon my sparkling talent was going to be discovered, and I was going to be the toast of the talk show circuit, a media darling, a millionaire, a great and respected intellectual, and also somehow a ballerina and one of the 50 Sexiest People Alive.

And then real life kept squashing my dreams. To date, I've never had anything published, nor have I ever really finished a single story, let alone written the Great American Novel. Until last year I've been living under the poverty line and could still probably qualify for food stamps if I really put my back into it, which pretty much nullifies the mansion and the millionaire dream. And I don't know if you've noticed, but that Sexiest People thing? Ain't gonna happen. I guess it's one of those growing-up moments, where you suddenly see that yes, you are going to be just as boring as your parents and sadly, no, you aren't going to have oddles and oodles of money and a career you totally love; you will do the same things everyone else does and live a quiet life filled with vast stretches of doing nothing but getting up and going to work and in the meantime be saddled with crushing debt from those bygone years when you thought, "Hey, it's OK, I'll be rich someday."

And you just have to realize that accomplishing little goals, like writing a 50,000 word novel (which, who are we kidding, is really just a novella), is OK and is good enough and better than sitting on your ass watching Lost because Lost is just not as interesting as it used to be. And that being creative even in very tiny small ways is more than most people can do, when you get right down to it, so you shouldn't fling your hands in the air, even though it feels like poo to know that the part of yourself you always hoped would make you special turns out to be only marginally more talented than the average Joe who voted for Bush and watches Fox News and Nancy Grace on a daily basis.

(And by 'you' I mean me.)

But lest this become a downer post, I want to point everyone's attention to someone who actually can write: The Oh Really. The coolest thing about this blog? Every month she puts out a new list, one item for every day of the month. It's ingenius. Why didn't I think of this? Oh yeah, because I'm an idiot. Anyway, enjoy.

This Very Special Blog Post has been brought to you by The Misanthrope.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Further proof that life is unfair

First of all, was I right or was I right? Jim Webb, welcome to the United States Senate. Unfortunately, his victory was sullied by an outrageous act of unfairness perpetrated right here in Arlington by my very own BF. Turns out Mr. Namby-Pamby Non-Voter (according to his story, his Oregon ballot got lost in the mail--very believable), just happened to wander into Senator Webb's victory rally, which took place about four blocks from our apartment. I was at work at the time, and temporarily revived myself from a swoon of boredom to see an IM message from BF that read something along the lines of "oh yeah, went to webb's victory rally at courthouse plaza today." Not only that, he even got to shake the hand of the soon-to-be-senator, a man he DIDN'T EVEN VOTE FOR.

Grptharghaskldjfioaewh;fot;lohngklasdjhf!!!

That's the sound of me dying from apoplectic fit of rage.

Anyway. In other news, my right leg has finally had enough of my shenanigans and has gone on strike for an unspecified length of time. I'm thinking I should see a doctor about this. Unfortunately, the terms of my health care plan are blurry and I keep going around in circles when I try to find a sports doctor on my plan's web site. I'm pretty sure the fact that my right leg crumples like a piece of paper whenever I try to run or do any sort of cardio activity has to do with overuse and/or repetitive stress injuries, and that's probably exactly what Highly Paid Doctor Who Will Make Me Wait Two Months to See Him will say, but I'm hoping maybe he or she will be able to give me some sort of miracle orthotic that will suddenly cure all my ails, or maybe even just a nice Ace bandage.

Meanwhile, I have decided it would be wise not to aggravate my injuries any further, so have discontinued workouts for the time being, which couldn't have come at a worse time since Thanksgiving is next week and therefore I will be gorging myself silly. The logical thing would be to just not eat as much during this time I'm trying to heal, but logic is for sissies. The gorging cannot be stopped. What's a girl to do? Looks like bulimia is the only answer.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

I lost my scarf to democracy

I lost it yesterday morning on my way out of the polling center, after standing in line for one hour and fifteen minutes in order to vote for Jim Webb, Senator elect of the Commonwealth of Virginia, for which action of devotion I will be accepting flowers, cards, cash gifts, and replacement scarves (I like shades of blue) as tokens of your gratitude. Yes, I know he hasn't been declared the official winner yet, but he's ahead by 7200 votes, people. I don't see Allen regaining many of those in the inevitable and lengthy recount brouhaha ahead, so I'm going out on a limb and calling it: Jim Webb, Senator (D).

And as for the other election results, can I just get an AMEN!!!

Thank you, oh people of America, for finally pulling your heads out of your gigantic obese American asses. (Wait, was that too accurate...I mean, derogatory?)

Saturday, November 04, 2006

Belated Halloween present from me to you

BF found this one on Andrew Sullivan's blog. Beware: Not appropriate for work. Do not eat or drink anything while watching this. Do not watch in the presence of small children. View at your own risk.

Scary Halloween Video

One more, but not exactly scary, just poignant and sad. This is more of an election day present.