Chocolate

I recently finished Lolita, and I’ve been talking about it with anyone who’ll listen, because I’ve got to tell you: I hated it, as evidenced by the fact that it took me more than a month to read, which might as well be a year in book-time. I. Hated. It. And yet I know at least two people who count it as their favorite book of all-time, and I’ve got to throw out a general query: why? I mean, I get all the reasons why I’m supposed to, and yes, yes, it’s beautifully written, and it’s allegorical for what, some kind of tyrannical reign, and throwing away youth and it’s also some randomly odd love story and I GET IT. Except: I don’t actually get it, because I am small-minded and too old to enjoy such a thing, because my whole brain is just screaming “BUT THIS IS GROSS.” Especially the line about him kissing her “brown rose” which almost made me puke, just VOMIT right then and there, and that makes me immature, I know this. Although it’s possible I might have made you puke just now too, and I’m sorry about that. Kind of.

So, Lolita = gross, and not at all enjoyable for me. I told you, I’m immature. And I *like* books! I love to read, really I do, but no no. No Lolita for me.

Also gross, or not, is the fact that this is my second period using the Moon Cup, and I have to say, for the bajillionth time, my periods are bordering on pleasant at this point. I mean, consider the fact that I wore a light khaki skirt today with whatever underwear I damn well pleased and not once – NOT ONCE – in the entire day did I consider that something might happen and I didn’t have to change or mess with anything, and that, my friends, is a miracle. I’m throwing away my period underwear. Buh-bye, ratty underthings! Hello, fresh-as-a-daisy…nethers.

In other gross/non-gross news, I have a confession to make.

*deep breath*

I don’t find the word moist that gross. I said I did, and in theory I do, and at the end of the day, I see why people find it gross, but the fact is, I think of Duncan Hines. And all I want is cake. Moist cake. Moist yellow cake with chocolate frosting. Mmmmmm….CHOCOLATE. Moist chocolate. Or muffins. Tender, moist muffins made with sour cream and maybe some cherries. Moist cherry muffins. Moist chocolate muffins. MOIST CHOCOLATE MOLTEN CAKE.

Wetness, however, my Jesus. Yesterday, Dana left a comment that used the word “wetness” in place of moist, and I have to say, I’m perplexed by the horror around moist when wetness is freely tolerated? How can you tolerate wetness? WET. NESS. It screams of inappropriately damp underwear, and honestly, it smacks of Lolita. Lolita’s underpants, to be very specific, and I’m going to go throw up now, thanks. This, FYI, is why I hated the book, and now hate the word wetness, and for God’s sake, can I just get some muffins up in this piece? Where are my moist chocolate sour cream muffins?

Speaking of chocolate, for the frillionth time, I microwaved my Skinny Cow cookies n’ cream ice cream sandwich for all of ten seconds, and it diminished down to absolutely nothing which is why, if you were ever wondering, they’re so low in calories. The whole thing is something like a tablespoon melted. A tablespoon of fake ice cream and fiber. Whee-freaking-HOO.

Also, um, PS: Grey’s Anatomy writers? I actually think I’m done. I AM DONE. I AM DONE WITH THE MCMEREDITH BULLSHIT, and to leave that as another season cliffhanger? Another McDerek McDrama? McSeason pass? MCDELETED. I don’t give a shit if Derek buys another McHottie another McDrink. It actually makes me McAngry, and TV shouldn’t ever make you McAngry. So, McFuckyou. McFuckyou very much. For McReal.

*Snow Patrol. Also the only footage I’ve ever seen where Gary Lightbody is actually passably cute, and it all makes sense, because that ’70s hair? The hair he’s rocking now? IS AWFUL. Short. Short is cute. Enjoy.

46 comments May 3rd, 2007