Weekend

Friday, there was pie at work. No wonder none of my pants fit me anymore.

Friday, I watched some Doctor Who, the first series of the new series, or however it's labelled. It reminded me of Sliders. *ducks* Seriously, though, it felt like two shows, at least at the beginning - a cheesy kid-oriented action show with ooh! aliens!, and a parable of loneliness and exploration for adults. And then I watched an interview with the lead actor that was on the first disc, and he kept talking about how he'd done the series because he'd never done a kids' show before, and the interviewer asked all these questions about the responsibilities that come with doing a show for children, and suddenly it all made sense. It pretty much *is* two shows. But it comes together more as the series goes on, at least I felt so, and I love the relationship between Rose and The Doctor. All in all, a fun watch.

Friday, I went to bed early, because I am OLD.

Saturday, I went running. And I did not fall over and die, although I kind of wanted to during my last few minutes.

Saturday, I went wandering and had any number of crises, including what is the point of life? what am I doing with my life? what do I want to do with my life? how can I either accept that I am fat or get myself to do something about it? and what am I going to do about this massive infatuation that will not die? The only one of those I resolved was the last one, and the answer, predictably, was "nothing".

Saturday, I saw Little Miss Sunshine, which was awesome and fantastic and one of the best things I've seen in ages, although I am aware that my reactions tend to be heightened when I see movies in the theatre (because that happens so rarely), so it might not be quite that amazing. I did love it, though.

Saturday, tasty sushi was consumed with sarcasma and sanity_clause and then I attempted to cuddle their kitties, but they mostly ran away, as usual. One stayed with me for a brief moment, though, which was exciting.

Sunday, I did nothing. Followed by heading out in the rain to Word on the Street, where I huddled under my umbrella and listened to Sars and Wing Chun read from their new Television Without Pity book. Very fun, if wet.

Sunday, I did more nothing, then watched some Deadwood (with naked Molly Parker, hello!) and the second episode of Studio 60. Which I still love.

Today, the hallways smell like toasted raisin bread.

Tonight, I have to do some of the housework that I neglected all weekend.

Booktalk: The bonus 'Oh my god are you SHITTING me?' edition

So, this truly lovely friend of mine lent me a book to read. One of those godawful "find a man!"-type books. And I would have rolled my eyes and refused, but she really felt that it helped her get more comfortable with the idea of dating, and I didn't want to unleash the full force of my mocking on her. However, I didn't realize the full hideousness of this book. It was so bad that I read the whole thing in horrified fascination.

The title: The Surrendered Single: A Practical Guide to Attracting and Marrying the Man Who's Right For You. I just don't get this - why is it about getting married? I mean, whatever, I don't get any of it, but couldn't people at least be trying to be happy and build a life? Why all this emphasis on marriage? DRIVES ME CRAZY.

The title again: Surrendered? SURRENDERED? Kill me now.

Prologue: "She cannot determine who asks her out[...]" (sure, but she could do the asking) / "She's purposely quiet on first dates[...]" (because only the man should have anything to say?) / "She acknowledges that...she will definitely be lonely without one [a man]." (I...have nothing)

Also, my favourite section heading: Will Reading This Book Make Me Seem Desperate? (Who can guess the answer to this one?)

Chapter 1: Apparently the trick is to tell everyone you know that you want to get married. Huh.

Chapter 2: Your standards are too high!

Chapter 3: Cynicism is a turn-off for men. How sad. Also: "It's easy to forget that men come from a different culture." Um, really?

Chapter 4: Wear skirts. Okay, fine, what she really says is, "Think about it: Don't you move differently in skirts and dresses than you do in pants?[..]You're more aware of your legs and the movement of fabric in response to your body. Either consciously or unconsciously, you remind yourself that you're feminine, and feminine is what men are fundamentally attracted to." I feel a pressing need to pull out the oversized cargo pants. And once again, the invaluable advice to wear lipstick to the gym. I'd say that's only smart if you don't mind getting mocked in someone's blog the next day.

( Oh, there's more. )

(Okay, I'm probably being unfair to this book by just picking out the bad parts. And maybe it works; who knows? I certainly have no intention of finding out, because a) I don't want to get married for the sake of getting married (or married at all, but that's another point entirely), and b) I really have no intention of being "surrendered". Ew. Also, as always, if you're reading this and thinking, "Hey, I read that book, and it was amazing and helped me entirely and now I'm blissfully happy!", well, good for you.)