Devil’s Right Hand

My mother informed me today that she never washes underwear in the same load as her other clothes and further, she’s repulsed by the idea that anyone would do otherwise. I mean, she was genuinely shocked that I washed my underwear with the rest of my clothes and I’m wondering: is it just me? Am I universally disgusting by some standard of which I had no idea prior to this revelation? I don’t know if she just started doing this, or if I was utterly oblivious for the majority of my childhood but I promise, I’ve never heard that she does this before and … consider me mystified.

Further, and along the same lines as Laundry: Demystified, I feel strangely obligated to share this post from Susan Wagner on cashmere because really, I had absolutely no idea that I wasn’t supposed to be dry cleaning my cashmere sweaters, and I own a surprising amount of cashmere sweaters for a general slobby-type person. Baby shampoo, y’all. I’ve been doing it wrong for so long it’s almost criminal.

Separately, I have to tell you, and I’m sure Adam would concur — I am a completely different person when not in the throes of PMS. Perhaps a better way of putting it would be that I am a miserable cow when besieged by hormones and it’s not, as I would like to believe, entirely in my head. I noticed today that I have been in a stellar mood since the day the P abandoned its MS comrades, and it’s truly frightening, the way I am all sweetness and light and I can’t help but whine for a mere moment that it’s just. not. fair. Hormones, man. They ruin everything.

And finally, two completely classless observations that are entirely unrelated except in that they are both … well, classless. I haven’t mentioned this before because frankly, I’m embarrassed, but I’ve been watching CBS’s first-ever winter Big Brother season, and while it pretty much sucks, I remain as invested as ever in a new set of completely vapid and truly hateful houseguests. But to take this one step further into the truly pathetic category, I’ll tell you that I got a free year of Showtime and I have, on occasion, caught a TiVo’d episode of Big Brother After Dark (shut up. It’s background noise while I work, SHUT UP). For non BB9 fans, this is a slice of unedited footage of the houseguests and it’s ridiculous, is what is, and I am rightfully embarrassed to be talking about it, but if you can believe it, that was not my point.

The point is that Showtime is CONSTANTLY airing ads for The Tudors, which apparently has an upcoming season, but to Alert Commenter Sadie’s point, do you know how they’re selling it? With NON-STOP FOOTAGE of Jonathan Rhys Meyers having an inordinate amount of torrid sex. And, if you missed our earlier conversation in the comments about it, Jonathan Rhys Meyers is … well, honestly, he’s gross and effeminate and not the least bit attractive. Take, for example, this photo of him that is reminiscent of Jame GUMB, for crying out loud (“Put the fucking lotion in the basket!”). I mean, there is NO WAY I’d be interested in watching him make creme brulee and serve it to a band of puppies, much less have sex, I’m sorry. And it looks … it looks like graphic sex, too. Ahem. No. Thank you, Showtime, for turning me off The Tudors.

And finally, I have to ask: what do you all typically have for dinner? Now that neither one of us is chained to the homefront, we’ve been eating at home, and I have to tell you, I cook, but by “cook” I mean things like broiled chicken breasts and rice from a box. Shake ‘n Bake (totally delicious, mock if you must). Baked beans and … Tater Tots. Vegetables typically found in a BAG. In the FREEZER. Lasagna made with sauce from a JAR is a special occasion. I have this vision of everyone whipping up gourmet meals from scratch each evening because remember, I ate out for two years straight and I don’t know how normal people live, but honestly? I don’t have the energy to perform such feats and I am childless and work from home. And if I don’t … who does, other than Smitten Kitchen? Do you?

*Johnny Cash

60 comments March 24th, 2008