Ok, feeling muuuuch better.
Well, not entirely, lest you expect a masterpiece from my recovering ass, but actually sickness is not why I've not been posting much. (That would be your classic double-negative, chilluns, the one they warned you about at school. You think inappropriate commas are addictive, wait until you've had some decent double negative.) I've been writing my fiction with a vengeance, with interspersed breaks for bloghopping and commenting.
I do actually have a topic or two that have been simmering.
Deep, cleansing breath, ok, here goes:
I don't like it.
I know, I know. It's the hottest thing on tv since reality shows hit the airwaves (which, incidently, I don't like either - nope, not one bit). And I know what you're going to say. In fact, I should just post the first comment myself and save all of you the trouble. I've heard it over and over, because whenever the topic (or any topic) comes up I'm not shy about sharing my opinion. (No, you say, Really? That doesn't sound like you at all, Sex.) But the protesting party always starts with a variation on the same theme:
"You had to see the first one." or, "You had to see it from the beginning."
To which I respond: I did and I have. Still don't like it. The acting is sub-par, the characters are shallow, flaky and not likeable, the plot-line is extremely guess-able. And, you ask, how is that so different from Alias? Well, Sidney reverses guys' asses with their nostrils on every show. That's how. Violence. Like the violence. Yeah, I know some chick "killed herself" (and I caught on to that fact being questionable since they practically slapped us in the face with it) and another was "brutally murdered", but it's not the same. Heel smashing forehead - that's the kind of violence that turns me on.
Also, I can't stand the supercillious tone of the narrator. I know she's dead and all, so she knows shit we don't, but she grates my nerves.
So then, when the "Desperate Housewives Valiant Defender" determines that this dismaying news is not situational, she stares at me for a moment, silently, struggling to rectify this revelation with who they thought I was. In short, they believe the problem lies with me.
I can live with that. Sorry. I just don't think it's funny. I could get into an in-depth analysis of theme and character developement (and you know I'm more than capable of doing that in a rather biting, entertaining tone), but I don't care enough about the show to go to the effort. Just thought you should know. If you want to find another blog now, I'll understand.
The other thing that's been on my mind are the "resolutioners" at the Gym. I'm watching you. I play a little game with myself (not that kind of game, Greg) that is called:
"Who will be here come February?"
So far, I haven't found that many.
I'll start with the "wills":
1. Tattoo guy. He's got the coolest half-sleeve on his upper arm. While I don't usually love huge tattoos, it's no secret that I find tattoos sexy. And this guy's got lots more going for him than tattoos. His tattoo is a cross between tribal and an early English Arts and Crafts pattern (I used to be an interior designer too. Yes, the mystery deepens. Who is this chick??). Anyway, it's way cool looking, he's way cute, and he's obviously (pant,pant) been working out for awhile. He also climbs the rock wall, which provides live entertainment to boot.
2. Miscellaneous people with trainers. They'll be around for a while, I'd guess. They're making the investment, learning how to do it right and steady, and I'd guess they got six months at least. Usually once the outside pool opens the training goes down because everyone hangs at the pool drinking beer or margs. Yes, the gym is more than a fitness center; it's a "lifestyle center." It's got a cafe and a bar, too.
Here are some who WON'T be there:
1. The Guys Who Wears Black Socks to the Gym. (Unfortunately, there's more than one of these.) You bothered throwing your nasty, pit-stained, too-tight white t-shirt and twenty year old OP shorts in the bag and you didn't think of socks? I'm not saying that you've got to go buy a new Nike wardrobe. But if you can't take the trouble include white socks, sooner or later you won't take the trouble to come at all.
2. The Couples. So cute. They are going to change their lifestyle... together. "We'll eat right, work out, not drink so much, have more sex and we won't ever argue again!"
Riiight. PHF works out. I work out. We love each other with desperate abandon. But we don't work out together very often. For one, he's a slacker (yeah, my workouts are harder than his). Actually, he doesn't have to work out as much to see more results (bastard!) and that rubs me. He also hates waiting on me to finish.
(You might think that the primary issue is that I can't "look" when he's around. I'll say this, I can't help myself and he's very tolerant.)
The other issues with these couples is He tells Her how to do it "right" (translate: wrong) in a condescending tone. He also gets pissed if she can lift as much as he can (as most of these guys are techies, it's often the case) and She gets pissed when She discovers that He's scoping out Me.
It ain't gonna last.
3. The Fat Guy Who Starts Out Lifting Too Much Weight.
Complicating issues: he goes home sore, skips a day or two, and it's harder to restart once you've missed. Also, McDonalds won't get you through your workout. Or, he has cardiac arrest and ties up the machine for an hour or so while EMS tries to revive him. In any case, he won't last long.
4. The Mom Whose Kid Won't Stay In The Childcare. (Sorry, Virtigo - but, in your case, I think he'll get over it. He's getting older now.) (I also realize that there are exceptions to this rule, but most times it can be solved with cheerful persistance.)
Here's a successful scenario:
Set child down.
"Bye bye, I'll be back in a little bit!"
Mommy exits with a happy wave.
After a few times child still screams, but gets over it sooner and sooner until they are like my kids who scream when they DON'T get to go to the gym.
Not so successful scenario:
Set child down.
Mommy spends twenty minutes of the allotted hour-long Pilates class "consoling" child, as if they are the only one on earth who can. This tells Child two things:
1. If I scream, she won't leave. I get my waa-ay! 2. It must be bad here, because mommy won't show a little confidence in me and my surroundings and leave me.
I'll conclude with a new feature here at SS@S:
Funny Six Year Old Reasoning.
The Lad got a new dark-sensored nightlight the other day. This morning he tells me:
"Mommy, we'd better leave the light on in my room all day so my nightlight won't burn out."
Happy Hump Day! (Yes, I'm referring to both sex and Wednesday. Clever you, you got it!)