Tonight’s shaping up to be a fine night. I had a wonderfully tiring and sweaty workout that involved logging 4 miles on various machines (2 on this scary but fun cross-country skiing thingymabobber). I’ve decided I should try to avoid the gym from 7 to 8 p.m. — that’s when the Fit People seem to arrive in droves with their toned bodies, impeccably highlighted hair and cute little workout numbers. They are not My Kind. I feel a bit like a giant sea mammal around them, in fact. No, I’ll stick with the off hours as much as possible and toil on the machines among the other humans.
As I was driving from the gym to the grocery store, I found myself behind a pickup sporting an accessory that actually managed to shock me (and that’s not easy to do). Hanging from the back bumper of said pickup was … well, there’s just no polite way to say this … a chrome-colored scrotum. A SCROTUM! Dangling freely in the wind! I wonder what sort of person purchases a scrotum for his or her truck? I wonder if I’ve ever met one and just didn’t know it. Do any of you readers know anyone with a scrotum-bearing vehicle?
Anyway, my dinner is cooking as I type, and when it’s done I’m going to watch at least one of three movies: Walk the Line (at long last), Jarhead and North Country. And I’m going to watch them on my computer with its kick-ass 20-inch screen! Good food (consumed with chopsticks), movies, solitude and rain in the forecast — I’m a happy gal.