mad, mad, mad world

My DH comes home today - in just a couple of hours, actually. I'm going to try to get my shockingly lazy behind to the grocery store between now and then. I've concluded that some significant part of my strange behavior in his absence has been prompted by loneliness. Not that I never see anybody (actually I've seen lots of people, everyone has been very good about keeping me company), so not alone-ness - just loneliness. I wonder whether I am also lonely when he is here, but I don't notice it because there's someone around me all the time? I think this is probably true.

At any rate, I have way over-invested myself emotionally in the success of several TV romances. That between Michael and Fiona on Burn Notice, of course (love that show); I don't think she's the ideal match for him, she seems to privilege being manipulative over having a secure relationship, but she's had a rough life. However, since he obviously loves her devotedly and has no illusions about who she is, how can I not be supportive? (You would think I knew these people.) And then there's House and Cuddy - well, I don't know that I so much need to see that relationship go anywhere, as him dig himself out of the latest mess. That's a rational audience response, right? And finally, of course, there's Booth and Bones. Mostly because Booth's obvious unspoken care for her is so heartbreakingly poignant! Forget the whole education bit - I am a sucker. Maybe it's easier to be invested in these things (honestly, I could fix all of each pair's problems with a short conversation - in witness whereof, my apparently doomed relationship turned into a beautiful marriage. More hard work, less angst. Plus grace. Works every time).

One thing for which I think I deserve favorable credit is dancing around by myself in my living room to high-energy music videos on youtube - for this purpose I specially recommend Hanson's Mm-Bop and Beyonce's Single Ladies. It's good for the metabolism, and I dance so shockingly badly that I pretty much never do in public. (On that score, it has been nice to be home alone, because I can't see doing this with my husband here. And he gets home earlier than I do. An hour in the evenings to start dinner and act like a loony before he arrived would be really nice.) On the subject of metabolism, I have been going to the gym for three or four weeks and trying to moderate what I eat, a little. A starvation diet seemed too drastic. I wanted to lose ten to twelve pounds in the six weeks before my surgery. I have two weeks left. I have gained a pound. Even if I can go back to work the week after, my belly will still be swollen. What will I wear? This is very frustrating.

I also tracked down some other pop tunes I've heard on the radio - a few each from Avril Lavigne and Pink. I knew Pink was a little hardcore (I remember listening with enthusiasm to "Don't Let Me Get Me" in college. I was definitely my own worst enemy, but I never dated a teacher and my parents didn't hate me until I considered becoming a nun. Sigh). But although her videos are really unnecessarily graphic (and can she wear some clothes? For someone whose persona is so strongly committed to the difficult project of making herself appear unattractive, she's always showing a lot of skin), I found nothing so disturbing as Avril Lavigne's.

By all objective information she was raised by a happy, normal family. Of course, she appeared on the pop scene FAR too young, but the violence toward other (very young) women in pretty much ALL of her videos is shocking. Pink ignores some gals, allies herself with a few, and attacks others - but clearly because she feels persecuted. Ms. Lavigne savagely attacks the innocent and defenseless, apparently because she wants to see them suffer. She also advertises herself (in at least one song) SPECIFICALLY as easy, with no other merits. There are easy gals out there, but I think they all think (they might be right) that being easy is a footnote to being attractive, or fun-loving, or warm-hearted, or lonely, or unable to trust men, or something else that really defines them. Who makes herself the heroine in a story in which she's breaking up a relationship by advertising sex, period? It's disturbing.

So, anyway, I have been living in the internet. The internet is entertaining, but it does not have a healthy bedtime and it is not very warm and cuddly. I am looking forward to having my husband back.

Also, on the when it rains, it pours front, I am now on my SIXTH STRAIGHT DAY of fertile CM. Monday was very slight, so I figured that would be a lead-up day and then there would be maybe three days, culminating in a discernible peak. That's how it used to be. However, I haven't seen any clear increase (i.e., toward peak), and also, it's not in the same, er, quantity as once upon a time (though certainly more than in the months I'm going to refer to as my Dry Spell. Har, har). But SIX DAYS? What is this?

You know, I just thought you'd all like to know.