November 16, 2006

Behold the Doldrums

Is Alex Trebek getting bitchier? I caught a bit of Celebrity Jeopardy last night, and let me tell you, Alex was incredibly impatient with Bebe Neuwirth (and I love her, so that’s not okay), like, not everyone has the Jeopardy pacing down, so excuse her if she takes a minute to choose a category or wants do a little dance when she gets one right. She’s got Tonys, man. [Also, my no-longer-embarrassing crush on Neil Patrick Harris can finally come out in the open. I have loved him since I saw him on Leno when he said Joe Millionaire was stupid. I took our mutual feeling about the show as a sign of true love, and wrote his name in my binder in purple sparkle-pen. Um, metaphorically.] But, Trebek… a little pissy. Even during normal Jeopardy, he seems short with the contestants. Watch him during the next ‘getting to know you’ bit after the first break; he doesn’t really want to talk to these people—and he always has to have the last word. Don’t get me wrong, PMS Alex is funny—I just hope he gets to keep his job, is all.

Maybe I should wear my glasses. Then, the sign that said Saving Children Together would look less like Sewing Children Together, and I would be less likely to laugh inappropriately at my sick mind’s ‘baby paper dolls’ visual in the middle of the maternity wing.

Gilmore Girls can bite my left ass cheek. You know what hurts a fan? Airing a first season episode of a show that used to be one of the funniest, sassiest, most enjoyable shows on television immediately before the current episode, which has deteriorated into utter tripe, all its flaws stark naked for inevitable comparison. It’s like watching home movies of your childhood before your grandmother got Alzheimers; we can deal with the show’s slow descent into hell only by forgetting how much we love it. And Lorelei’s marrying Christopher is not helping me forget. It’s helping me vomit.

An early ‘jump’ on Christmas shopping is more of a slow trot when everyone and his brother gets the same idea. One would think that shopping at Target at 6:30 pm on a Wednesday two weeks before Thanksgiving would yield fairly few holiday shoppers, but one would be left staring holes in the back of the head of the woman who needs a gift receipt for every bell, book and lampshade in her seemingly bottomless cart (and, when that got boring, crying into one’s miniscule purchase of soup, earrings and novelty boxers).

Is everybody gay? As if Grey’s Anatomy’s T. R. Knight just wasn’t enough, I now have to come to terms with losing my hetero fantasies about the aforementioned Neil Patrick Harris. Broadway. Yoga. Natty attire. I should have seen it coming. My poor girl’s heart cannot stand to lose another hot-dream-fodder man to men. Hugh Jackman, I am speaking directly to you.

A chocolate muffin from Barry Bagels has 535 calories. And 35 grams of fat. Good thing I only ate half; now I only need to skip one meal. Ugghhh…

My gesticulations are hindering my conversational abilities. I bought a few products to style my new super-short haircut, one of which was in a mousse tube. I told the nice lady I didn’t want mousse, and she assured me it was really just wax in a mousse bottle; it wasn’t pressurized, there was a pump at the bottom. I tried to explain the workings of the bottle to friends (when they asked which product made my hair look awesome) with the following gestures: index finger flexing like the motion to take a picture, a fist punching upwardly through the hole of other hand, a Da Vinci-esque index finger pirouette, finger-and-hole gestures popularized by third-graders, “wax on, wax off”, and the inescapable hand job motion. When the ensuing laughter subsided, nobody cared about the hair anymore, leaving me mumbling that I’d “just show them the bottle, whatever.”

When it’s 35 degrees and rainy, and you really want a cup of tea and your book, maybe there’ll be a good black and white movie on, and you just bought new fleece pajamas and you aunt was going to make Chicken Parmesan tonight and everyone tells you you’re too skinny anyway It’s really easy to rationalize not going running.

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