Don't sew when you're this angry.

I've been seeing a chiropractor again for about a week, since my neck was getting bad again. The annoying thing is that it sometimes gets really bad at night--evening mostly. Even last night, I had rented Twister (it's on my dad's top ten comfort films and I hadn't really seen the whole thing in probably ten years--so much of it reminded me point-by-point of Speed and hey, der, same director, Jan de Bont...); anyway, a film like that is usually perfect to take my mind off things. Not so much this time. (It was still enjoyable, but you know, pain sucks.)



(Btw, that sucker has some winning dialogue!)

I went to the store for wine (hey, when in doubt...oh wait, different movie), and a snack. I was irritated enough that I wasn't really considering my diet. So I'm wandering around in the sort of clothes where you pray you don't run into anyone (at the time, I honestly couldn't give a rat's ass) and none of the snackies sounded good. Wanted an ice cream treat, but not a whole goddamn box, ya know? Considering what I left with, I'm really glad for self-check-out. I mean, it's not like I got a cucumber, Vaseline and condoms, but I just don't need anyone judging my wine, bacon, chips, French Onion dip. (Honestly, the bacon is just for a recipe.)

My friend C had nearly the same problem that same morning, standing in line to purchase (before 10am, natch) red wine and a big can of tomatoes. The woman behind her eyed her and (in a humorous tone, one assumes) said, "Nice way to start the morning." C replied (all too seriously, knowing her), "Breakfast of champions."

But I came home, finished off Twister and then lay on the floor to watch Watership Down, since it had been way too long. Still perfect.



This is the Quiz Link; I have a feeling we're all Hazel. (Ok, I took it again and now I'm Pipkin...so I'm a born leader and a born follower, what does that say about me?)

Also, for some good Saturday morning randomness, I really enjoyed:

Woody Harrelson's defense of beating up a paparazzo saying he mistook him for a zombie

PETA (seriously) asking the Pet Shop Boys to change their name

and for a pleasant finish, this NYTimes article, A Paradise of Birds in Belize. Belize seems to have been the trendy vacation spot last year (at least for people here), but I really wouldn't mind seeing some of those guys! #7 is particularly sexy and #9 looks really soft...