Posts Tagged ‘for shame’

I have a confession. And it’s not something I’m proud of.

Back in November, when the new Twilight movie, New Moon, was coming out, I wrote about how bad I thought the first one was, and how I would not be seeing the second. And how I didn’t want to read the books (for fear of liking them).

I still haven’t read the books.

But Sunday afternoon, after a productive morning, mind you, all I wanted to do was veg out and watch a movie. And I didn’t want to re-watch anything I owned, so I looked on the interwebs. Now, maybe I was influenced by the recent ads showing the release of New Moon to DVD. Maybe I was just feeling particularly in touch with my inner (former?) teen angst. Maybe I just wanted to know if Taylor Lautner‘s abs looked as good as everyone said they did.

Or maybe it was all of the above. Because I spent Sunday afternoon watching New Moon.

There you have it. I caved. I fell to the power of Hollywood and boredom – a lethal combination.

And you know what else? I didn’t hate it.

Was it still a little melodramatic and absurd? Of course. Hello, teen angst! Do I still enjoy this LOLCats version of the movie? Well, how could I not? Do I still not fully agree with the glittery vampire idea? No, I don’t. Were the abs everything I thought they would be? And more.

Wait, what? Sorry. I was just on a roll there.

Anyway, I just thought you should know – in the interest of being honest. And, as much as I try to resist, I’ll probably end up seeing the third movie, too. Not in the theater, but who really cares about that distinction at this point?

But I’m still not reading the books. That’s a line I’m just not willing to cross.*

*I reserve the right to change my mind. Or cave, as the case may be.

P.S. 4 days ’til the marathon…

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To the obviously healthy and very capable gentleman who happens to live in my building:

  • If I can manage to hold the door open for you, while carrying 4 very heavy grocery bags, I expect you to put a little kick in your step. You were not that far behind. And, like I said, the bags? Not light.
  • Also, if I, with the same bags, can manage to hold the elevator door for you, when every part of me wants to jab the “door close” button, as you nonchalantly stroll toward me, then a “thank you” would be nice. Clearly not entirely necessary, but nice. Especially as I press the button for you. You must be exhausted from carrying…practically nothing.
  • And, if, at this point, I can restrain myself from not swinging one of my grocery bags at you, when we reach your floor you should really exit immediately. I’m fine with your “have a good night,” but why the extra 10 second linger in the elevator? Are you trying to shame me into being nice(er) after you saw me sigh and shake my head?

Guess what? It won’t work. And all I want to do is get to my room and watch Real World. (Side note: Wtf is wrong with Andrew?)

So look, I’m sorry you caught me on a cranky day, but really, let’s try to move a little faster than a snail’s pace next time. Or maybe I just won’t hold the door anymore.

That works, too.

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One of my goals this year was to complete a marathon, working my way up through 10Ks, 10 milers, and half-marathons. But, after finishing my first half-marathon this past Sunday, I resigned myself to the idea that, while I felt all right,  the full marathon might have to wait until next year. Unless, of course, I want my body to hate me. Then it’s no biggie.


One of these days...

Which is why I felt shamed when I watched The Biggest Loser last night, and saw all four final contestants finish all 26.2 miles! Yes, two of them walked, but they finished. And the other two – Tara and Helen? I’ll say it: I was impressed.

Tara finished in under five hours. And took only slightly longer than what  my marathon goal time would be. I’ve been racing for six months (and running for nearly four years). She’s been on the ranch for, what, four and half months or so?

My competitive streak immediately thought, If she can do it, I can do it. I’m in just as good shape. I have no more excuses.

And then my body spoke up and said, If you keep putting me through the ringer like this, I’m going on strike.

gnomeOkay, okay. Duly noted. But the fact remains that when I finally do run a marathon, I’ll have it in the back of my mind that if those contestants could do it, there’s no reason that I can’t. And there’s also no reason that I should be complaining after running anything less than that.

Otherwise, you might have to send me to the ranch. Or, boot camp with Jillian. And that’s just plain scary.

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