Thursday, May 29, 2008

I'd Like to Go to Bed Right Now, But I Can't Because A Movie I Hate Is On T.V.

Hello! I’ve been busy! But not with anything interesting!

I really needed to get some work done tonight, but I didn’t, thank you very much Hoosiers. Stupid movie. I can’t not watch it.

Speaking of things I can’t not watch, I’m taking my cue from a recent reader poll on ew.com asking what movie or t.v. genre they can’t pass up.

I have just a few. One, I cannot pass up documentaries about storm chasers. I don’t know why, probably because I’m terrified of tornadoes. And for the past month, the local PBS station has been showing documentaries about tornadoes and storm chasers on Thursday nights. And so tonight, instead of getting work done, after I watched Hoosiers, I watched yet another documentary.

Two, I will watch anything with Gary Sinise. I am aware that he will not meet everyone’s idea of the Ideal Man, but I find him disturbingly attractive. He fascinates me. Because of him, I watch CSI: New York. I’m even willing to watch Of Mice and Men when it comes on the television, and I hate Steinbeck.

Three, and this will surprise no one, I am absolutely, positively, addicted to mysteries. Which is why, at this moment, instead of getting work done, or getting ready for bed, or doing the dishes, or making up for the extra Z-bar I ate tonight by spending some quality time with the Wii Fit, I’m watching the most recent PBS adaptation of Agatha Christie’s Ordeal By Innocence. For the second time. I hated it the first time, and yet, here I am watching it again. They really did a number on Ms. Christie’s books in the most recent productions they’ve done; they’re terrible. Some of the stories are almost unrecognizable.

And RR and I also always watch when they have the Inspector Lynley mysteries on. The books aren’t bad, but, again, they diverged from them quite a bit in making them for television. Every week, we’d watch an episode, get good and mad, and then, the next week, we’d watch the next episode. Grr. But I can’t not watch!

I am excited, though, that they will soon be airing some more episodes of Foyle’s War. Michael Kitchen. I just love him. He was disarmingly adorable in Enchanted April, and he’s excellent in this series as well. And it’s a good mystery! You should watch.

Anyway. I should go now. I have a mystery to watch and get mad at. Again.

Tuesday, May 06, 2008

All work and no play

Howdy, y'all! I'm boring!

Seriously, I do nothing of interest. My time lately has been consumed with working on a case that has no answer. Fun! Also, eating lots of dried pineapple. The chewiness helps me think.

And so I am obsessed with dried pineapple, which I buy from Central Market. It's in the bulk bin section, which I have a love/hate relationship with. I love the selection and the fact that I can get as much or as little as I want. But I hate the grazers and the people who park themselves in front of the section that I need. I had to deal with both today. And also, everytime I tried to grab a piece of pineapple, the bin lid flipped down and slammed on my hand. It's not heavy, so it didn't hurt, but it was very, very annoying. And then I couldn't get the ziplock bag to close. I got a leetle angry about it. But I did not yell at anyone.

Maybe I should cut back on the coffee.

Hoho, I jest.

So, one of my coworkers, I've developed this Pavlovian response to him--we've taken so many coffee breaks together that now if I see him walking down the hall with a coffee mug in his hand, I am compelled to go get more coffee.

On a completely unrelated note, my hand has felt and weak and jittery, for lack of better descriptors, for the past two days. I do not know what that is about.

And about work. My boss has been working from home for the last six weeks, recovering from surgery. It has been awesome. I love being in charge of my own schedule, and by that, I mean I love knowing that I will be able to get work done during the day and not have to spend an hour looking at a clothing catalog talking about non-work things. I love that she's not a workaholic who demands that your every thought be about The Law, but I really would prefer to be in my office on Westlaw. Anyway, she'll be back in the office starting next week, and it will be good to see her, but I will miss being in control of my own time. I think I'm going to start doing a lot of work in the library.

So, moving on, we are trying to get the cat on a raw food diet. But we're starting him on cooked chicken first to get him used to eating chicken, and then we'll slowly move him over to raw chicken. It's kind of sad when your cat's food costs more than yours. The good news is, he likes it, mostly. But we also have to limit feeding him to just a few times a day rather than leaving food out for him all day, so by the time the morning comes, he's quite hungry. So he comes into my room (only mine--he doesn't bother RR) and meows at me. He also will stand on my pillow (because I hate that), or my bladder, or, you know, my neck. Whatever he thinks will get me out of bed. I don't like this new side to him. And then I get into this totally pathetic power struggle with him, wherein I cannot let him win or believe that his bugging me will work, and so I will stay in bed even longer just to spite him and prove to him that standing on my neck won't make me get up and feed him. And then I feel guilty because I know he's really hungry. But I am not reasonable when you wake me up in the morning, so then I have this internal debate with myself about whether I should get up or whether that would just encourage him. So because of this battle of wills that I'm imagining I'm having with my cat, I have been late to work almost every day for the past two weeks.

But so anyway, now my townhouse's downstairs frequently smells like chicken. I don't care for that. Tonight my sink had this very strange, hard to describe smell, like maybe oily metallic. . . chicken . . . peppers . . . sour cream . . . thing. (Ok, the sour cream and peppers were from my dinner, but the rest, I don't know). I didn't cook any chicken tonight, so I don't know why it smells like that.

And also, my trash can? Smells like vomit. SMELLS.LIKE.VOMIT. We've only had it for a few weeks, and I swear no one has thrown up in there. What the hell, y'all?

VOMIT.

And now back to work.