Yesterday was my nine-mile training run, the longest so far in my half marathon plan, and it went exceptionally well. I’m pleased that I’ve been able to meet the longer distances again with no problem and to keep my long-run pace just a smidge ahead of where the McMillan pace calculator says it should be.
After my long run, however, the business hit the fan. I don’t know what it was for sure, but something I’d eaten at happy hour the night before did not wind up agreeing with me. (And I wasn’t alone! We’re blaming the deep-fried pickles.) Luckily the angry backlash didn’t strike during my run, but rather well afterward. Nonetheless, DAMN. I spent the rest of the day lying pathetically in bed. The only thing that sounded appetizing was a real-sugar Mexican Coke, which I happily downed while picking at some various lackluster selections from the Earth Fare deli case.
While it surely is miserable to be stuck at home all day when you’d planned to be doing Other Things (even if said Other Things were merely working at a coffee shop while grading papers and running a couple of errands), it wound up being OK. I am still borrowing W.’s supersized TV with the internet apps built in, so Netflix and Hulu were streaming their way into my living room in glorious high definition. When I didn’t feel like watching, I read a bit on my Kindle. Hooray for technology!
I started Bret Easton Ellis’s Rules of Attraction, which I picked because I wanted a sort of slightly hip, contemporary campus narrative à la The Secret History. And he and Donna Tartt both went to Bennington together, which inspired the college settings in their work, and such, so I thought this seemed like a reasonable thing to reach for. Uh, that is not what this book seems to be. I’m not sure I’m a fan of his prose style at all, but I am going to keep on reading and just see. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll just re-read Donna Tartt for the umpteenth time, you know?
Today I felt much better so I made my way to the coffee shop and began grading papers in earnest, did some grocery shopping, finished today’s quota of papers at home (Eegs helped out again, as seen above), and I decided to reward myself. Since my gentleman friend is out of town this weekend, I made it the girliest night possible: chick flicks, wine, and a DIY manicure & pedicure. (Fire-engine red and dark grey sparkles, respectively, because I know you are curious).
Movies I have watched since dinner:
1) Love and Other Drugs – Gyllenhaal and Hathaway are both adorable and charming and charismatic in general; the movie is clever and funny and totally predictable. I giggled a bit and got a little misty, too, but I have no need to ever see it again.
2) Charlie St. Cloud – I watched this mainly for the sailboat porn and secondarily for the love-story possibility, but it was so eye-crossingly awful that I spent the entire film texting, browsing the internet, and editing photos while only 40% paying attention. Oh well!
3) A Summer in Genoa – This one is interesting enough to make me want to watch it. It’s sad and compelling and personal. It’s also one of the only times I’ve noticed a hand-held camera in a negative way. Normally I like that style or just don’t notice it, but in this case it was a bit disconcerting — especially as the Netflix thumbnail and description made this seem more like a Hollywood B-movie with slicker production values if not a great story. It’s good — better than what Netflix suggests –, but not what I expected. Also, I prefer to think of Colin Firth as he was in, oh, any movie in the pre-jowl years.
So what’ve you been up to? If you have any 1) hip, contemporary campus narratives; 2) sad/funny young romances; or 3) charming Colin Firth flicks to recommend, please do so! Other media recommendations are also being accepted, though at a lower priority at this time — thank you for your consideration!