So I rented Definitely, Maybe this past weekend for D...he quite enjoys Ryan Reynolds. Honestly, I do, too, but I can't say I'll watch just anything the man does. He certainly makes me laugh, but this actually wasn't really a comedy (intentional or otherwise). It was a romance, but it wasn't as crap as you'd expect. The daughter (Abigail Breslin) was totally the weakest link, but I'm not convinced that was the actress's fault. Just because most people can't write for children doesn't mean her delivery was shit, too. Kinda hard to call. Anyhoo.
It was cute and it had sort of a Post-Birthday World approach to the story, which is just to say it wasn't all about Your One True Love; there were many people in his life and the movie wasn't trying to pretend that only one person was meant for him. So that was kind of refreshing. But yes, it had barfbag moments, too.
The weather here is flat-out orgasmic; it feels to be in the 70s all day (it may actually be low 80s but to a native such as myself, it's a moot point), it's rainy...very little more I could ask.
I am even, by god, going to the gym after work. I want to start swimming, but a hair cap and goggles might make the prospect a little more enticing.
Leaving all the windows open has also brought on more bouts of redirected aggression from both cats, so good times there. And I decided I might need a break from BSG when I almost yelled at them this morning (at the sounds of a fight), "YOU WERE JUST EATING TOGETHER OUT OF THE SAME FRACKING BOWL!" And I used to think their usage of that word was so lame. Sigh. How easily led am I.
Another reason to hit the gym is that I noticed if I go the back way to work, I run across a Krispy Kreme. Not only did I stop this morning (oh, chocolate covered creme-filled sugary pills of death!) but I picked up an extra-shot white chocolate mocha from Starbucks. Ouch. "Hey Lard Ass, how was your trip?" I blame the workout I had this morning on my need to indulge in sweetness.
It's a vicious cycle, what can I say.