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Warning: I’m about to talk about lunch! Run for your lives!

There are many reasons why eating an entire cantaloupe for lunch is a bad idea — I’m not sure it’s the most nutritious solution, for example, despite its high concentration of vitamins C and A. And fiber! Let’s not forget fiber! Let’s also not forget the two apples and banana I had for snacks, and who knew that too much fiber was a bad thing? I spent the majority of Thursday afternoon face down on my desk praying for a hasty escape and some sort of way for me to finish deadline without losing my mind. I was sweating! Clutching my abdomen! And did I mention the sweating? Over a cantaloupe?

Never again. You think that fruit is a good idea for lunch, and then it all goes to hell. It’s not a good idea. No. I’m still paying for that cantaloupe. Please learn from the error of my ways.

I watched a lot of sports this weekend, and while there is oh so much we could all say about that, I walk away with one odd fear I’ve had my entire life: The fear of the high five.

I hate the high five. I’ve never been able to do it properly, and worse, I have never — and will never — initiated a high five, because I live in mortal terror of being left hanging. That fear of rejection is so great, and how many times have you watched a sporting event, only to see this poor guy, likely the nerd of the team (Maybe because everyone’s pissed that you’re overpaid! I’m looking at you, J.D. Drew!) initiate a high five to the cool guy (Papi!) and he just blows right past him into the dugout? And it’s FILMED on national television, that moment where he was publicly shunned.

That’s never going to be me, no sirree bob. My hands remain firmly at my side, and if it’s initiated, I am a half-assed high-fiver, because what if it wasn’t meant for me? What if I raise my hand and they meant to high five the woman behind me?

This is all coming across as very sad, isn’t it? Like some kind of metaphor . And while maybe it is, I just really think that the high five is kind of lame, leaving countless individuals poised for public rejection. I have no plans to participate in the high five in the near future.

I’ll spare you the details of the rest of my weekend (Hanging blinds! Vacuuming! Cleaning toilets! Dog farts!) (Seriously, enough with the dog farts, what the hell is she eating?), but I will tell you that we ordered a Bissell steam cleaner, and it will come as no surprise when I tell you that I can’t wait for its arrival. In fact, I am downright giddy.

And finally, both a product recommendation and a bit of a personal (har HAR!) complaint. Let’s start with the rec, shall we? Ah, Clinique. So inconsistent. So good and yet, so bad. But as a person with oily skin who lives in a raging hot climate, it’s nearly impossible to find an oil-free moisturizer with sunscreen. Enter Superdefense.

Love. Matte finish, 25 SPF, no breakouts. No one paid me to say that, I promise. But a query: can anyone recommend a great oil-free moisturizer for nighttime, sans SPF, bearing in mind that when I say my skin is oily, I mean it is really and truly OILY, like a sweaty slice of pizza in the hot sun?

Enter rant: “Don’t take it personal.” OH MY GOD, truly, if one more person says this to me — in lieu of “personally” — it’s possible I might reach across the table and shave their eyebrows off. I’ve started carrying a disposable Schick solely for this purpose. PERSONALLY. PERSONALLY. It’s an ADVERB. YOU CANNOT TAKE SOMETHING PERSONAL.

Although I really shouldn’t throw stones, because remember, I thought frou frou was pronounced “frow frow.”

Ooh, ooh! I forgot! You know what I did on Friday? I had lunch with TB. And while the groupthink-y culture of “I love you, man!” blogging kind of grates my cheese, because frankly, I don’t think all of it is genuine, really I don’t, and I don’t mean that in a bad way, I just mean … oh, I don’t know, I guess it all sounds disingenuous after a while, because it’s sort of required after meeting another blogger, you know? And I hate that all of that prefaces with what I have to say, because I can tell you with total sincerity that Tammie is one of the most genuinely kind people I’ve met in a long time, and I was so impressed by her that spending time with her changed me for the rest of the weekend. That’s not hyperbole. I mean it. The world needs more people who are that genuine and pure.

Also, I may have wanted to eat her baby with a side of mayonnaise. He’s that cute.

Happy Monday! Blech!

*Interpol

26 comments October 14th, 2007