This week at work we put on an event here in DC, which is unusual for us. There was a graphic designer in town who I am friends with, so we met for coffee Thursday night. It was great, and I love seeing her, BUT. I am not used to drinking Starbucks-strength coffee in the evening. All I had was a latte, which is mostly milk anyway, but it did CRAZY things to me all night. (Heh, dirty.)

I was tossing and turning for probably an hour, with my mind racing and my heart pounding like I was a coke fiend or something. I mean, it was freaky. Am I actually this old now, that I’m going to have to be one of those “Oh no, I couldn’t! No caffeine after 3pm for me, ha ha ha!” people?

The worst part was the song stuck in my head the whole time. It was not a good song. It was actually the worst song ever. The granddaddy, the behemoth - nay - the very SUMMIT of suckiness. Seeing as how I am a giving person by nature, I will give it to you now.

Wellllll, we can dance if we wanna! We can leave your friends behind! Cuz your friends don’t dance and if they don’t dance, well they’re no friends of mine!

You can thank me later.

Speaking of music, over the last month I have gotten a little carried away adding songs to my Shopping Cart in the iTunes music store, and now I am stuck. It’s too big to purchase! I will have to sell a kidney to start fresh in that store!

I don’t know what to do; my music exuberance has totally boxed me into a corner. I tried highlighting just a few lines and clicking Buy, but it didn’t work. It took me to a “You have $54,234.99 worth of music. Buy or cancel?” window.

As far as I can see it, my only alternative now is to just buy the songs one at a time, thus ensuring that my next credit card statement will resemble the Magna Carta in length. Has anyone figured out a way around this? ITunes people, are you out there? Please make it possible to buy part of a shopping cart, as that afternoon I spent clicking through the opuses (opusi? opusasces?) of Madonna, the Bee Gees, and Depeche Mode is going to be the death of my savings.

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Has anyone else been watching that “Sexiest Bodies” countdown show on VH1 lately? I love countdown shows of any kind, but this one in particular is genius and I am hooked. Basically, it counts down hot actors, rock stars, sports stars, etc, and shows clips of them being hot while other celebrities gush over their hotness. And media people talk about how much the celebrity goes through to look so good: the diets, the exercise regimes, how many hours and how many times per week.

Now, after watching this for a while, I have had a thought. Astounding, I know! Just go with it.

The women they profile are either very skinny, like Kate Beckinsale, Kelly Rowland, or Madonna, or curvy, like Salma Hayek, Carmen Elektra, or Scarlett Johansson. And according to the show, there is (generally) an ENORMOUS gulf between the lifestyles of these two types. It ranges from doing nothing athletic, to working out for three hours a day, six times a week, and being vegan or macrobiotic.

So my thought is: why is there not a corresponding huge gulf between the two body types that result? Do you know what I mean? You’d think that the difference between being a fitness addict and a fitness abhorrer would result in more of a body variation than between, say, Tom Cruise and Jude Law.

Personally, my body is a lot closer to Scarlett Johansson’s than to Kate Beckinsale’s (except for that part about her being stacked, hello), and my lifestyle also involves a lot of sitting quietly while eating junk food. I am with her; it’s just not ANYWHERE NEAR WORTH IT to live on wheatgrass juice and run every morning just to get my stomach like 3 degrees flatter. For that fine a distinction, who cares?

Scarlett is crazy hot anyway. I would cross to the other side for her any day. Yeah, I said it.

Diarist Awards, Best New Blog nomination

Also, there is news. I got nominated for a major award (tm A Christmas Story) and it is awesome!

I don’t really expect to win, because if history is any indication (ie. that softball team I was on in the fourth grade), I kind of fall apart in the big game, har har. But I am SO pleased to be in the running. Anyway, go vote for someone. For me! Or for, you know, that other guy, the one who hangs out here sometimes. (Edited to add: The one whose name is Peter. Peter! Peter Peter Peter! Because he guilted me into being a nice person, like he is.) Or for Whitney, who I have never read but am sure is a lovely, deserving person.

A final thought for the weekend: “We can go where we want to! Night is young and so am I! S, A, F, E, T…”