Home.

About Me.

The Half-Assed Archives.

Subscribe. Dammit.

Write Me.

My Weblog.

 

All content by Nicole Willson. Copyright 2000. No stealing.

 

Insomniaville -- All the Stuff that Keeps Me Up At Night

1/31 -- Way to Update, No-Updates...

Hello.

Um ... sorry about that long, long delay. I tried to come up with a colorful excuse ("Dinosaurs ate my computer! It's true! It's true!"), but the sad and sorry truth is that I'm genetically incapable of devoting myself to more than one extracurricular project at a time.

Remember that kid in your high school class who was the class president, the valedictorian, the captain of the soccer team, a gymnast who had to get up at 4:00 am in order to get in practice before school, a member of every honor society your school had, the star of every school play, and who had time to bake cookies for orphans and senior citizens every Christmas in between their two part-time jobs?

How in the hell did they do all that? If that was you, how'd you do it? Really. I'd like to know. Is it just a question of having a superbrain that's really good at managing time efficiently? Or do you have a special machine that slows time down or adds extra hours whenever you need them?

That's certainly not me, in any event. I've been devoting a good part of the second half of January to Project Get In Shape. Because I'm nothing if not completely and insanely obsessive about any new interest I develop, our living room now looks like an explosion in Richard Simmons's house. Purple dumbbells. My badass-momma steel dumbbells with the interchangeable cast-iron weight plates. (I think they like to gang up on the little wussy purple 3-pound vinyl guys at night.) Ankle weights. "Weight Training for Dummies." "The Everything Fitness Book." Shape magazine. And oh yes -- the treadmill, which we're still using, much to my own amazement.

Those of you who know me in real life shouldn't expect some amazing transformation the next time you see me, by the way. I talk the talk, but so far I don't look anything like Linda Hamilton in "Terminator 2." Or even Linda Hamilton in "Terminator 1."

That's about as boring as I feel like being on the subject. I like exercising and weights, but I don't like writing about it. Or reading about it.

What else has been up?

A brief Sea Monkey update: Well, there's only one left of the alpha generation. (I haven't hatched the next ones yet.) I've named the sole survivor "Richard Hatch" after that famous Survivor of last year, even though I think it might be a female. I feel sorry for the poor lonely critter. This Rich won't get a million dollars and gigs at the MTV Music Awards for being the last one. Rich is just going to be ... the last one.

Bah. I'm getting depressed just thinking about poor Rich swimming around, and swimming around, and swimming around, until he swims himself into oblivion ...

Elsewhere: Only a year after I got into it, Bill has finally discovered The Sims. My old game with its various families was still installed on the Windows machine that's pretty much become his since I bought the iMac. After watching me get obsessed with Sims on the Mac, he fired up the Windows game and created some Sims of his own.

And his male Sim is busily wrecking all those happy little families I created, I might add. Okay. So they weren't so happy, but I left them on an up note, I think. After wooing Melissa Roomie away from her girlfriend Chris and their new baby, Bill's new guy is now starting up something with Bella Newbie. I warned him that Bella's sort of known as the neighborhood Welcome Wagon, but I don't think he cares.

A Conversation I Overheard in a Movie Line Last Weekend: "Hm. That sign says that 'Crouching Tiger'' is sold out. What's 'Crouching Tiger'?"

"You know, it's that Asian movie with that girl who did that other movie."

"Oh! The one in 'Charlie's Angels?'"

"No, no ... this girl's really Japanese."

I wanted to tap one of them on the back and say "Don't go see it. You'll hate it."

What else? Hm. There was some big hoo-ha a couple of weeks ago about some guy being inaugurated as our new president or something like that, and something about a Superbowl, but they're all kind of a blur right now.

But we got a treadmill! And if you aren't careful, I'll bore you silly about it.

The next entry.

Previously, in Insomniaville...

Back to the main journal page.

January 2000