Despite the Malbec, I will actually endeavor NOT to rant. My friend Jennie was castigating me for failing to post, and I explained that I feel like a lot of blogs are just collections of rants, and my Mayflower-Protestant ancestors object to my engaging in such things. Don't get me wrong - I adore reading them, but I just feel all glompy if I start doing it. New word - glompy.
I had a funny story . . . and it was . . . my addiction to Gilmore Girls? No. Although I am addicted. I have found my television soulmates. Them and Hugh Laurie's House. Sit me down with Lorelei, Rory, and House and I would feel 100% at home. It's not lupus! Let's reference obscure English literature and pop culture! Yay! This is what it feels like to talk as fast as you think!
What else, what else. Ok - another one of my blog posting paranoias is a fear that I will reveal personal information and then find myself victim of my imprudent revelation. For example, if I reveal my deep and abiding affection for my new Vera Bradley Little Betsy bag (in Mod Blue), someone might use the knowledge against me. Like - you might purposefully spill coffee on my bag! To be mean! You now, this actually illuminates a deep and abiding self-obsession that can only be called narcissism. No wonder I loved The Truman Show so much. I was all - I knew it . . .
I fear the Malbec is wearing thin. The dangers of a psychotic metabolism. However, I will go ahead and report that Operation Get Lisa in Shape is advancing, thanks to a lot of help from my ridiculously nice and supportive friends. My summer roommate Meredith is including me in her runs. This involves us jogging slowly around Viele Lake while I attempt to distract myself from agony by gossiping and then me stopping due to tunnel vision setting in or sharp stabbing pains under my rib cage and then her going on an actual run while I hobble home. Also, Tanya is endeavoring to teach me to play tennis. Tanya - I close my eyes right before the ball hits my racket in case it's actually going to hit my head. Sorry. The end goal is to find out what I look like naked if I actually try. I have a sneaking suspicion that the thighs and ass, while undoubtedly toneable, are here to stay. Also I may manage to shrink portions of my upper half that I have no desire to shrink. But - you know - exercise really does give you endorphins, and I don't want to kill my nonexistent husband, so it's all good.
Goodnight, my pretty ones, I will post again.
2 comments:
You're funny. I know the feeling of posting and then anticipating comments that are a long time coming. ;)
I admire you for trying to learn tennis. I royally suck at all racket sports. It's actually quite comical.
Also, I do believe you should continue posting under the influence...very amusing. :)
Encouraging other people to drink makes Jesus cry.
Actually, I had this long discussion with my roommate Meredith about how going to a beer festival on Sunday is so not blasphemous. I based this on the fact that Jesus totally drank beer. Everyone did! The water was disgusting! And we know he had a thing for wine. Plus he's completely linked to Bacchus - you know, fertility gods who die and then are reborn in the Spring, yadda yadda.
Anyway. I will make a point to post while disinhibited more often.
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