Perfect Fit!

Remember that bowtie I got? Thing was so big I couldn't even finish it. I tore off both the ends (the "loop" of the bow) and ate those. I saved the "knot" for later. Turns out I had the perfect container for it. I just love when something fits perfectly in a container, like the knot of a bowtie donut in a Rubbermaid container. It balances things that are off-kilter in this world, like war.

So Little Time...

I have so many posts I want to write, but there will never be enough time. My mind thinks too quickly to write them all down. Sometimes I write ideas on a piece of paper; I almost never get back to them. I haven't written about the crime show re-enactment I cracked up at, my experience with jury duty, or the feet of a doll I saw once. Those are just a few examples of what's "inside my head." I have so many pictures I could post. I'll start with one, anyway, since it's still snowing in Boston. Here's me at the base of Parking Lot Snow Mountain. More to come, I promise!

Echo at the Donut Shop

I was just in the vicinity of a Dunkin' Donuts, and I was having a craving. I figured I'd get my favorite, a chocolate frosted, for dessert. It was almost dinnertime.

I went in, and it looked like Old Mother Hubbard's place. There was nary a donut in sight! No chocolate frosteds, for sure, a lone butternut, and some muffins. I guess if you want to get the good stuff, you go at 7 am, not 5 pm.

There was only one woman at the register, and she was making some chocolate whipped creamy concoction that took forever. It gave me time to decide if I wanted the butternut, which might be stale, or a bunch of donut holes. I finally settled on a bow tie; might as well get the biggest thing in the place and get my money's worth. A few seconds in the microwave and it'll be good as it was at the crack of dawn.

Time to make dinner so I can have dessert.

Prince's Shoes Spawn Surgery?!?

Oh my god. I just read that Prince may or may not have hip replacement surgery, due to his funky moves and wearing of high heels for years. Because he's a Jehovah's Witness, he might not have the surgery because they don't believe in blood transfusions or something like that. I also read that he's in serious pain, and that his calendar has been cleared for two months. If he didn't have the surgery, he would walk with a cane. Is this what can happen if you wear high heeled boots every day, do the splits, and jump off the top of baby grand pianos for 30 years? Hey, I've had friends who have had HR surgery who do not do those things. And they're fine. But what if HE'S not?

Oh god, oh god. Please let him be okay.

Private Plate

Do you ever eat differently when you're alone in the privacy of your own home? Like, are you not as neat? For example, say you were eating something a little sloppy, like corn, and it kept falling off the plate, would you put the plate up to your mouth and just scoop it in, because no one was looking?

Or just say, for instance, you were eating some salad, and there was a big piece of lettuce you put in your mouth, would you just suck it up and resemble a cow, instead of cutting it in two, like you would if you were with company?

Would you drink the melted ice cream from the bottom of your bowl, until you got every last bit?

I'm not saying that I would do any of these things. I'm just asking if you would. Just curious.

Demented Dentist

Looky what my dentist has on the coffee table at his office:

Nice.

People, Please!

Sometimes I'm embarrassed that I have a subscription to People magazine. Spoiler Alert! As I went through today's issue, week of March 3, 2008, there were so many things that jumped out at me that just sounded ridiculous. Save yourself the $4.95 or whatever it is and just read this.

Page 8--In the Correction section, it says, "In our Feb. 4 issue, we should have said Christopher Upton was born a year and a half after his parents, Willie Aames and Victoria Weatherman, were married. We regret the error." Now, I don't know just what the error is. In the Feb. 4 issue, did they say Christopher was born a year and a half before his parents were married? Did they say why all three of them have different last names? Do I care? I can't flip to the Feb. 4 issue and check, because I give my copies away soon after I read them. Sometimes an hour after.

Page 15--There's a picture of top model Milla Jovovich carrying her baby, and my first thought is, "Oh my god, she looks so bad without makeup on!" I am disgusted with myself for having the thought, and change it to, "Wow, she looks so different without makeup on!"

Page 16--Picture of Patrick Dempsey at the airport. He's crouching down, looking back at something, and has a sort of unpleasant look on his face. The caption says, "The Grey's Anatomy star...travels in style." Travels in style? He's wearing a leather jacket. Big whoop.

Also on page 16, a photo of Mischa Barton's "new look", comparing it to Gwyneth Paltrow's, because they both have long blond hair. This is news??

Page 21--Title of article: WEDDING BELLS FOR JAMIE LYNN! Oh, yay! And on the next page, it talks about Britney Spears' posthospital life (I'm not kidding, they wrote posthospital life): on a picture of Britney it says, "Spears looked pretty and was in a good mood" at a recent dinner with girlfriends. Well, thank god she looked pretty.

Page 41--I found out that this song I like, called "Low", is by a guy called Flo Rida. FLO RIDA??? Who told him that was a good stage name? Did they give him that name? Is he from Florida? Is he a low rider? Oh my god, I think that's one of the worst names out there. It's right up there with Rose Royce, who did "Car Wash", another song I like.

Page 51--Brangelina and the kids play in the snow. Enough already, let them be!

Page 55 has a story about the Olsen twins, "Inside their Strange World". Girls have been in front of the camera since the age of 9 months--they've always been inside a strange world!!! They're up there with Michael Jackson and Britney. I feel for them for being put in that world by their parents. For shame!

Page 65--Robert Irwin, the 4 year old son of Crocodile Hunter star Steve Irwin, was recently bitten by a baby boa constrictor. "He was so proud to have copped his first hit", said his mother. ?????????????????????????? I can't even elaborate on that one.

Still with me, readers?

Page 73--All about Tori Spelling. Who knew she was so pregnant with her second baby? She has a new memoir that I actually like the title of. It's called sTORI TELLING by Tori Spelling. Cute. She wants her son to read it when he gets older and be proud. And then come all the excerpts about how she didn't love her first husband and slept with someone who was also married, but they loved each other after 12 days, so it was okay. That's her son's father, by the way, Dean McDermott, now her husband. I hope they stay together.

Page 86--Lisa Rinna talks about how to eat (or not) on the day of the Oscars so you can fit into your dress. For breakfast she has a can of Red Bull and a banana. One of her "must haves"--Dexatrim Natural Green Tea Formula: "curbs hunger".

Page 88--Lindsay Lohan re-creates a Marilyn Monroe photo shoot. It shows covers of magazines where she's re-created looks, starting in 2004--four years ago, she would have been 17. She's only 21 now!!! STOP! STOP! Things like this will mess you up!!!

That's it, readers, a week's worth of smarm and smut. I guess I should go listen to NPR for counterbalance. Sigh...

Break Time

My friend Sophie asked me to come over and have cake to celebrate her birthday. I guess I am leaving the house today! I packed up what was left on the couch--not the one box I had had in mind, but I'm making progress. Shelby says, "Finally, you got all that crap off the couch so I could have my favorite spot back!"

Don't you just love my hour-by-hour posts? Plenty more where this came from; I have no plans tomorrow, either!

Lllooosssinnggg Steeeaaammm...

Here's what my piles look like now. Oh god. On the couch is what I need to go through, the white wastepaper basket is for things to be thrown away, the cardboard box has paper to be shredded and recycled, the table has a pile that I'm going to put back in a box, and on my armchair is a pile of papers to put in my work file.

I'm finding papers that I needed when I returned from Japan, and letters from former Japanese students. I came back from Japan in 2002. I'm finding condolence cards from my dad's passing in June. I've sent out one postcard I got for a friend four years ago, and an article for another friend I clipped last year. Better late than never! My fingers have that yucky dirty film on them.

Johnny Cash has been replaced by Prince. I'll get lots of work done listening to songs like the one that's on now, "Pussy Control." In the chorus there's a guy who shouts, "Vagina!"

I'm going to wash my hands.

School Vay-cay

This is my project today. Last day of vacation week from school, we're supposed to get 6-10 inches of snow, I ain't steppin' my foot outside the door. I took 3 boxes of stuff I had, cleared one pile of paper from the top of a file box, and put it on the couch. I'm gonna go through it and pare it down to one box (can't clear it all). I feel so PRODUCTIVE!!!

In between paring, I will blog.

Listening to Johnny Cash helps. Have a good day!

Poser

Look at the cover of this catalog. That is my ultimate fantasy pose. If I could do that, I could conquer the world. If I met that woman in person, I would fall to my knees and bow to her. Until then, I'll keep trying to kick ass at the gym, which is hard when your trainer makes you ride a stationary bike until you almost puke. I will not give up!

Tax Update

A faithful reader wanted to know the update on my taxes. I went home, got the proper SS card, and went back, smiling. I said to the guy at the desk, "Hi!" He said, "You got it?" We exchanged pleasantries, and I sat down to wait.

I got my taxes done (yay, refund!) , and still made it on time for my haircut!

And that's the fkng update.

What's in a Name?

When I was in my mid-twenties, I went through a major identity change. I won't say crisis, because I don't think I was confused; I just wanted something different. One of the things I did was change my name.

I was born Alexandra Campbell Hartnett in 1968. Campbell was my mother's maiden name. I had never liked the name Hartnett; this was before the days that Josh Hartnett became famous. No one could pronounce it: "Har-nett? Harkneck? Fartnett, ha ha!" Very funny.

My mother had died a few years prior, so I thought about just dropping the Hartnett and going as Alexandra Campbell. That would have been sensible. While I was considering that, somewhere along the way I got another idea. I thought, "Well, everyone calls me Alex. Maybe I'll just go by that." I don't know where I heard that you could have just one name, but I got stuck on that unique and crazy notion. I had to be different. It wasn't enough that I had just shaved my head and gotten my eyebrow pierced.

I was still a rule-follower, so I went down to the court and did it legally. I joked around with some official there, and he said, "Heck, one lady came in and wanted to change her name to a number!" I guess people do all kinds of things. My dad didn't mind that I had dropped his name; my brother was the one who was insulted, because now he and I wouldn't share a name. Sorry, bro.

So there I was, Alex, just Alex. It says Alex on my Bachelor's Degree. My credit card had it, and it was in the phone book. I was legit. After a few months, it got old. I grew to dislike saying, "My name is Alex, just Alex, no last name. Like Madonna." Some business couldn't handle it. On one student loan I was Alex Alex; on another I was Al Ex. Identity change over, thank you very much.

After a year and a half of Alex, I went back to the court and changed it to Alexandra Campbell, to be closer to my deceased mom (and still not liking the name Hartnett). And that's the way it's been since 1996. Grew out my hair and got rid of the eyebrow ring and started to look like Little Miss Conservative. And then I discovered tattoos...

Fkng Taxes!

I just went to get my taxes done. I've been going to the official government building for years; if you make under a certain amount (and I always do), you can bring in your stuff and they do your taxes for free, in about 15 minutes. It's great!

The first year I did it, I didn't bring my social security card. This is a big mistake. Every year there's at least one person who forgets their SS card, and when they are told they can't do their taxes without it, they yell and curse and make a big stink. I learned the hard way that first year, and was very proud of myself last night when I took mine out from my special folder where I keep it. I wouldn't be forgetting my card this year!

It was going to be such a productive day. I got out of the house at 9 am, took the T to Govt. Center, and went up to the IRS office. I pulled out all my papers, including my SS card. The man looked them over and said, "What's your last name?" I told him, and he said that my SS card didn't match my name on my W-2. I had thoughtfully brought along the papers that proved I changed my name (that whole story is for a different post), but the higher-up said that I had to have my SS card reflect the change. I started cursing and apologizing. "Fuck. Sorry. Shit. Excuse my mouth, it's just. Goddamn. Fuck. Sorry." I sounded like I had Tourette's.

Turns out I had brought my old SS card. Goddamn! Now I'm back here at home, got the right one, and am going back. I had to blog this to get it out of my system. Let's hope I get this all done in time for my 12:30 hair appointment. If not, my stylist Anthony will be hearing my sailor mouth.

Fun at Bugaboo Creek

Last night my friends Geoff and Diana and their two kids went to Bugaboo Creek for dinner. It's a good place for families, with animated forest creatures and a lodge-esque feel. Last night there was also an impromptu free show.

Geoff and I had the best view. There was a boy about 18 months old, who was flinging his french fries, one by one, off his plate. Kid had an amazing backhand. He'd get one, and whoop! it would go right behind him and onto the floor. He did that with about 6 fries, and none of the 3 grownups there did a thing to stop him.

I gave commentary so Diana wouldn't be left out. "Whoops, there goes another one! Wait, wait, he's going for the bib...smack! Right into the head of a man at the next table!" Said man took the bib and threw it onto one of the jackets at the table, and the woman gave him a dirty look, unbelievable!

The boy's finale was when he took his teenage sister's whole steak and dropped it on the floor. Oh man, there goes $14.95! Geoff and I were doubled over with laughter, and his daughter Calle got an idea: "I'm going to throw my food!" Three grownups in unison: "OHNOYOU'RENOT!"

Always somethin' good goin' on at the Bugaboo Creek Steakhouse. Even worth the stomach pain you get after eating a fried Bunyan Onion.

more out of the mouths of babes

Today, one of my former kids, who's six, was saying things to see what my reaction would be. She said, "When I was at Corner Co-op, you hit me in the face." I said, "I did? I don't think so. Did I, by accident, like did I turn around and accidentally hit you?" She said no, and then she said, "But would you ever do that?"

I told her that no, I would never never do that. I said that if I am ever very angry, I walk out of the room.

This girl has been to my one-room studio apartment. On the way home in the car, she said, "You know what? It's too bad if you're ever angry at your house, because you have nowhere to go."

I told her if I was ever angry at my house, I open the door and go into the hallway. She seemed to ponder that; I hope it was an acceptable answer.

Marc, he's in!

Some people want to be talked about in my blog and will either say it outright (Why haven't we ever been in your blog?) or drop a major hint (Marco, Marco, Marco! You never mention my son...). Usually, I post about things I've actually seen or heard. In the interest of keeping friends and getting a raise voted on by parents at my parent cooperative preschool, I will tell you a story about another one of my adorable kids.

Calder is special because he was the first kid to actually request "Rock Lobster" after I introduced it to the group, and he makes like a shark instead of the lobster I demonstrated. This boy thinks outside the box.

Here's a funny thing he said, told to me by his mom: He said, "Mom, I need chopsticks because I have chopped lips." What a great quote! Wish I had heard it from his mouth, but alas, it was told to me. Lately, Calder's all about Star Wars. Maybe I'll hear something good about Dark Vader and the Life Savers.

One More Marco

Last Marco story for awhile, unless he does something outrageous today. The other day he was taking blocks out and building, as I was telling him it was clean up time. I tried to negotiate by saying, "Okay Marco, one more bunch, but that's it, because it's really clean up time!"

I left the room for a few minutes, and when I came back, his structure was even bigger. I said, "Marco, you're still building!" He told me something about his building, and I said, "But you're not listening to me, that's the issue." He replied, "But that's not my issue."

Leave it to Marco to stop me in my tracks. I said, "What's your issue?" He said, "My issue is doing what I want. That's my issue." And he liked the word "issue" so much, he kept saying it over and over, smiling; "Issue, issue, issue."

He made me feel like I had issues, so I left the room again and let his mother take care of it.

Happy Valentine's Day!

More Marco

Marco, at 4 years old, has already gotten a staple in his head, twice. Yesterday he got his second one removed, and I asked him about it. He said, "Yay! I can fall again!"

I asked him if he had a slit in his head where the staple was, and if money would come out if I turned him upside down, like a piggy bank. He thought that was pretty amusing, and came over to me to see what I would do.

Well, of course I turned the little whippersnapper upside down to see if any money came out of his head. I shook him a little, and he cracked up. I made a big deal out of being disappointed that I wouldn't get rich from his recovery. When his mom came to get him, we did it again.

Sleepy, Shelby?

I've discovered yet another one of Shelby's quirks. Ever since she got her own set of steps to the loft, she loves to sleep on the bed.

Most cats I've had like to go under the covers, but not Shelby. At night, she sleeps at my feet. In the morning, she'll come to my head to wake me up, sometimes sitting on the pillow next to me. If I lift the covers up, she'll walk in, and then out again.

However, if it's the afternoon and I'm taking a nap, Shelby will go right under the covers, curl up, and go to sleep. Why is this, only in the afternoon and not any other time? She has a different position for every time of day: Morning-head. Afternoon-under covers. Night-feet.

No matter where she sleeps, she is my precious baby. Quirky, but precious nonetheless.

A Lesson for the Teacher

I made a 14 year old girl cry today.

I have two students who I've been teaching for about a year and a half, since they first arrived from Japan. They're a brother, (I'll call him I), 11 years old, and a sister, (I'll call her Y), 14 years old. It's been so exciting to see them go from not speaking any English at all to having philosophical discussions. Not only do I go to their house every week, but they've been to my house, and I've taken them and a bunch of my Japanese students to the movies. We have a lot of fun.

Last week, Y was upstairs studying hard, so she couldn't come down and have a lesson. At the end of the hour, I shouted goodbye to her up the stairs, and her mom went up to see if she would come down and say goodbye. Turned out she was too busy, and didn't come downstairs.

Today after I said hello, I playfully admonished Y for not saying hello or goodbye to me last week. I did a Japanese comedy move, which involves bopping one lightly on the head, combined with an English sentence: "Hey, you didn't say goodbye to me last week!" I then gave the item to the mom, told her what I had done, and she laughed.

Well, the kids and I began talking, and I noticed that Y looked a little upset. I asked her if she was okay, and she said, "Why did you want me to say goodbye to you? You're only a teacher!" Well, that cut me to the core, "only a teacher..." because to me, yes, I'm a teacher, but also a friend, someone kids can talk to and hang out with. I don't go for that authority figure stuff. Respect, yes, but I also respect the kids I work with, so it's a two-way street. I knew what she meant, though. To her, as in Japan, I am a teacher, an authority figure, not someone like a friend whom you say hi and bye to. She might have also felt bad because she thought she really had hurt my feelings for not saying goodbye.

She started to look really upset, and I said I was sorry for hitting her on the head and saying that, and she ran out of the room crying to her mom. Oh my god, did I feel like a jerk. I told her mom it was a joke, and she said she knew. Her brother knew it was a joke, and he didn't understand why she got so upset.

Well, I felt really bad for a long time, and I talked to her mom about it. Her mom told me that Y felt bad for crying, and she knew it was a joke, and she knew it was a little cultural difference. She said that Y was just a sensitive person, that was all. She would get over it. And she did, a few minutes later, when I went over with a card game. We played two rounds, and at the end I asked her if she would accept my apology. She said yes.

I apologized profusely to her mom, and she said that she was worried about me! She even emailed to see if I was okay. Well, I tell you what. I will sure be more careful next time! I realize that it wasn't totally my fault, but it sure feels awful to make someone cry. I will work on self-editing and being more sensitive. Whew. Sometimes it's really tough to be a teacher.

A New Children's Book!

The other day I was at my friend Diana's house. Her kids, Calle, 6 and Graeme, 4, were running around. As I was getting ready to leave, I noticed a funny scene in the kitchen (see photo 1). I imagined the text in the new Curious George book:

Suddenly, George saw two bowls on the floor. The Man with the Yellow Hat told George that it was cat food and water. "Now, George, I'm going out for awhile. Be a good little monkey and don't get into trouble", he said. And he left a wild animal that he stole from Africa in a house all alone, uncaged.





George looked at the cat food dish. It didn't look like the bananas he usually ate, but it smelled sort of good. George was curious. The cat wouldn't mind if he ate just a little, would she? He bent down to eat some of the food.



Suddenly, Shelby came around the corner and saw George eating her food. She gave a war cry, and tore Curious George to bits. Then she ate him. Curiosity usually kills the cat, but in this case, it killed George. He's not a curious little monkey anymore! The Man with the Yellow Hat was taken to jail for stealing a wild animal from another country, and he wore an Orange Jump Suit with No Hat for the rest of his life.

The End

I like this car because it looks like a grasshopper.

correction

I was informed by the F.I.M. that the touchdown I thought was going to be a touchdown was actually an interception (but turned out not to be an interception because he didn't catch the ball). I stand corrected.

And now to the other subject of this post. Remember how, awhile back, I was talking about sounds that bother my ears? There's a big one on Saturday mornings at 7:50 on Channel 4, wbz TV. There's a woman who hosts a Spanish-themed piece called "Centro". She brings guests on her 5 minute show to talk about Latino-based activities in Boston.

Oh my god, the woman's voice makes my skin crawl, I'm not kidding. I have to turn it off whenever I hear her greeting: "Hellooooo, and welcome to CENtrrro!!!!" She has the fakest cheery voice ever. And the whole show looks and sounds like she's practicing from the fake TV studio at a high school. Ewwww!

Now, Keith Morrison, I could listen to him all day...

Smear Campaign

I wore my "good", dry clean only sweater to work today, being extra careful not to get paint, bleach, or anything else on it...

only to come home and smear chocolate on it because I ate a chocolate chip cookie warmed in the microwave.

Super Bowl XLIIWTF?!?!

The Setting:

Mike and Julie's house. Tastefully decorated, spotless, cozy, plenty of interesting magazines on hand.

Cast of Characters:

Mike, a man in his 40's. Will watch sports, but is more interested in music.

Julie, a woman in her 40's; Mike's wife. Sharp as a tack, strong British accent. Doesn't really care about watching football, but loves to entertain.

David, a man in his 40's. F.I.M. (Football Information Machine). David can tell you who played in the Super Bowl in 1976, who the halftime entertainment was in 1990, and how much Tom Brady weighs. He is the only one who really knows what is going on.

Alex, a woman who will be 40 on April 26. Has never watched an entire football game in her life, and couldn't tell you a line of scrimmage from a tight end, but knows that those are football words. She likes to go to cozy houses and be entertained. She has bought a licensed sweatshirt for the occasion. Even though she bought it in the children's section, it is still very expensive. She will not say how much she paid for it. She does not know what licensing a sweatshirt means. She justifies the price by promising herself to wear the sweatshirt to the gym every time she goes.

Rio, a seven-year old Greyhound. He will be asleep for the entire game.

Luna and Harley, two "older" cats. They make brief appearances throughout the evening.

Scene I: Everyone settles in, gets their drinks (Mike & Julie, wine. David, beer. Alex, water), and gets comfy. The game starts. They pay attention. Alex squeals with delight when Jordin Sparks, the latest winner of American Idol, sings the national anthem. Everyone else groans. Alex tries to score knowledge points by pointing out players, coaches, and any pertinent football information to David to see if he's impressed. He appeases her and nods, "Yes. Very good!"

Scene II: Alex invents a drinking game where everyone has to drink whenever a shot of Tom Brady's beautiful face is shown. Julie and Alex comment on who is good looking and who is not on Team Patriot.

Scene III: The game, and very bad commercials. The only commercial that is somewhat entertaining is a bunch of animated geckos dancing to Michael Jackson's "Thriller".

Scene: IV: Halftime show. Tom Petty needs to get a shave and a haircut. Badly. Nothing will compare to last year's Prince halftime show. Everyone knows it. They show Tom Brady's face so much, Alex is compelled to shout, "I'm gettin' hydrated tonight, woo!"

Scene V: The Patriots are making mistakes. David starts pacing. He is very worried. Alex insists that everyone hold hands and make a "positive energy" circle. They do this three times during the game.

Scene VI: The energy circle does not work. There is one time when David and Alex think that one of the Patriots catches a ball and makes a touchdown, and they jump up and cheer. And then they see the replay and discover that in fact, the ball is not caught, just fumbled around. They can't believe it. At least the Pats are still ahead.

Scene VII: Just when they think the Pats are going to win, (there are only seconds remaining in the game), Eli Manning of the NY Giants throws the ball way across the field, and the guy he's throwing it to catches it. The Giants score a touchdown and win the game.

Scene VIII: Everyone is shocked and depressed. They drown their sorrows in coffee, tea, and footballs made out of oatmeal creme pies. Rio, still sleeping, passes gas, which only adds to the dismal air (pun intended) of the atmosphere.

Scene VIIII: Alex can't remember Roman numerals past VIII. Mike suddenly looks very ill, but has to drive Alex, and then David, home. He seems feverish. They arrive safely to their destinations. The city of Boston is eerily quiet and still.

THE END

Epilogue: Alex washes her losing team's sweatshirt and it shrinks. She mentally goes through the list of kids she can give it to.

Letter to my Personal Trainer

Dear Steve,

Remember yesterday, how I worked out for an hour? And did 30 deadlifts with all those kilos?And held a 10 lb. ball in one hand and did about 6 turkish getups? And then did those vertical chin ups, and worked on regular chin ups? And did push ups and kettlebell swings and renegade rows?

And then when you asked me if I wanted to do the slalom or squat thrusts, and I chose slalom, because I couldn't feel my arms below my shoulders?

Well, I felt my arms today, Steve. And all in my (insert proper name of muscle here), all across my shoulders. I could hardly push the comforter off of me this morning. And I practiced doing a cheer for later on today when I watch the Super Bowl. "Yeah, touchdown!!" I screamed, and I put my arms up in a victory position, above my head. I almost fell over from the pain, Steve. I sure hope it gets better after my nap.

You don't know this, but when I did the slalom for 5 minutes and told you that was it, and you said you thought I could do one more minute, and I did, tears popped out of my eyes as I pushed myself past what I thought was my limit. They didn't stream down my face, they popped, and got outta there just as fast as they could. And I was breathing real hard, but I finished that damn minute, yes I did.

And at every 10 second "rest", I wanted to punch you in the gut as I caught my breath. I thought that would be a good addition to my cycle. Slalom, jumping jacks, punch Steve in the gut.

You pushed me because you knew I could do it. I did it, and later on, after I didn't feel so lightheaded, I felt really good. As I sat in Subway (Official "healthy" fast food of The Biggest Loser) and ate my 6 inch turkey with mayo, lettuce and tomato, I thought of how far I've come since I started with you in October.

You're a great trainer, Steve. Thanks.

Alex

Spoiler Alert! "There Will Be Blood" Movie

Note to readers: If you haven't seen "There Will Be Blood" and want to, don't read this post. Or maybe read this post and then you won't want to see it.

Yesterday I got the hankering to go to a movie, come hell or high water. My friend Melanie and I had talked about going to the movies for weeks. We had a running list going, and we whittled it down. Our final two choices were Juno (a comedy about a teenage pregnancy) and There Will Be Blood (a drama about a man who strikes it rich in the oil business in the early 1900's), two very different movies. Melanie and I had talked about Juno for so long, but suddenly it wasn't as attractive, simply because so much time had passed since its release. There was so much recent buzz about TWBB, it was intriguing. Happy and fun movie, or dark and thought-provoking? We went with the dark, arrggghh! We were so pumped up.

The movie was 158 minutes long. When it was over, as the lights came on, I think the first thing I said was, "Huh?" and the second thing I said was, "Wanna go see Juno?"

Oh my god, it was so slow and disjointed! It dragged on and on. I kept waiting for something to happen to bring it all together, or to make sense of all the characters. It got so bad at one point, Melanie leaned over and asked me, "Why did he do that?" When you talk during a movie, it's not a good sign. It was thought-provoking, all right. I thought, "Why did such-and-such happen? What was the point of this? And that? Why all the buzz?" Movie shoulda been called, "There Will Be Questions." And I hated the score; it was awful throughout. I usually don't even think about a movie's music!

The only good part about the movie was Daniel Day-Lewis, who did an amazing job with his character. The problem was, it wasn't fleshed out enough, and everything around him was so weak, it didn't matter. Melanie had the same issues I did, but she kept saying she was glad she went, and that it made her think. It made me think, too. It made me think of joining Netflix, so I could watch some movies that were thought-provoking in a meaningful way.

I gave her two examples of really good movies that were also very long and about men who went crazy: The Aviator, starring Leonardo DiCaprio, and A Beautiful Mind, starring Russell Crowe. That's how it's done. And you know what movie Daniel Day-Lewis was in where everything worked? In the Name of the Father. To balance what I saw last night, I'll see those three movies again, and then I'll feel better.

I hate when I see a movie that bugs me. But at least it made me realize yet another calling I have: Movie critic.