1) why am i so obsessed with teen love?!? like, shouldn't i be way past the point of re-reading the scene in the e. lockhart ruby oliver books where the protagonist, ruby oliver, finally kisses her crush object, noel duboise, after a series of high school emotionally overblown, ramped up dramas? i'm an old lady! why do i get that giddy rush of hormonal, wacked-out impulsive bliss at reading a FICTIONAL kissing scene?!? how do i even have ACCESS to that emotional state anymore? isn't that the domain of teenagers and teenagers only and never a 30-something year old shall pass?!? why am i contemplating re-watching "veronica mars" season 1 again to rejoice in THE BEST TEENAGE KISSING SCENE OF ALL TIME?!? am i messed? how am i ready to potentially be a parent? how far am i away from being THIS:
and before you too-quickly leap to the defense of my inner-teenager, in the interests of full disclosure i should be truthful and tell you that i just added denim cut-off shorts to my "must-buy" list:
notwithstanding the fact that my legs are WAY thicker and stumpier than that gamine model's - WHO WANTS TO SEE A FAT, WADDLING, PREGGOS LADY IN DENIM CUT-OFFS AND A SUPER-THIN, GAUZY, AMERICAN APPAREL T?!??!
also, I REMEMBER WHAT HIGH SCHOOL WAS LIKE (kinda.) it was messy. lots of upheaval and social anxieties and situations rife with potential earth-swallowing humiliation. why do i like going back there? maybe cuz it was a simpler time. maybe cuz thinking about whether or not you've got the grades to go to university and handing in ONE THOUSAND WORD independent study project and feeling the dizzying swell of lust when your crush walks by (a crush that you will subsequently, in later, saner years, renounce with every fiber of your being) is way easier than having to call contractors to get quotes and thinking about your hefty mortgage and dealing with the protracted, shifting, testy realities of a long term relationship where you're preoccupied with building and sustaining a LIFE together. i dunno. maybe.
alls i gotta say is: bring on logan echolls. bring on noel duboise. bring on dexter from sarah dessen's "this lullaby"
2) past and passed
after 30-something years of having the two straight, lately, whenever i have to write "past" or "passed" i have to spend a good minute or two thinking about which one i should be CORRECTLY employing. that's messed, right?
3) the internet is NOT your friend when you're incubating a fatburger. all i do is stress that spumante is underweight and that i should be showing more and reading up on pre-eclampsia and preemies and not having enough amniotic fluid and it's enough to make you go crazy. like, who are these people who are incredibly ELATED AND FILLED WITH JOY AND HAPPINESS at the impending arrival of what (to me) is going to be a black hole of all my neuroses and worries?!??!!!
4) the fat little weirdo chronicles continueth
yesterday was a BAD BAD BAD eating day. like, epically bad. first off, allow me to say that i'm NEVER EVER EVER EVER going to eat the "big breakfast" at work again. it makes you feel like hell. it's pretty basic: 2 eggs, 4 pieces of sausage or bacon, 2 of those hash browns like what mcdonald's has, and 2 pieces of toast, for a ridiculous price like $4 something with an 8 oz coffee or tea. i LOVE those hash browns so i finally worked up the nerve to ask our frequently stressed and disgruntled caf cook if i could sub 2 extra hash browns for the toast. and he said yes. which means i ate FOUR hash browns. and then felt unbelievably thirsty, cranky, and stomach-churningly full for the next 3 hours. at least until lunch. just when i was starting to reach a state of gastrointestinal equilibrium, i went with the girls to hernando's hideaway, where i scarfed down 4 flautas - filled with spicy chicken. then felt like hell again. then went for a too-short massage then ordered A THREE PIECE MEAL DEAL, A SIDE OF MACARONI & CHEESE, AND A DEEP FRIED APPLE PIE from popeye's. that's SICK. no wonder i've been feeling unmotivated and groggy.
i haven't run in at least a week and i have no inclination to do so. i haven't done any yoga either so i'm generally a sluggish, sore, tense, linguistically confused, worrying mass of teenage lust.
dodgeball game tonight should hopefully set things back on course.