Caterwauling

But we still love her over here. Our beloved Sherri gives us Reader Poll Monday:

1. What is your favorite body part on the opposite sex?
Eyes, lips, butt, thighs. Serious thigh fetish.

2. How many hours of sleep did you get last night?
Six

3. Do you still keep in touch with any of your childhood best friends?
Hell no

4. What is your favorite trick for stress relief?
Lying on my back on the floor and zoning for 10 minutes, if I can. Digging my nails into my palms if I can’t — it redirects the mental waste into physical strength.

5. Do you have any addictions?
Fast food. I seriously tried giving it up a million times, but I neeeedddd it.

6. What city besides the one in which you reside would rather live in?
I’m trying to figure that one out right now, actually. I have an offer to move to Cincinnati, but dream locale? I don’t think so. I’d dig Manhattan if I didn’t need to double my salary to maintain the same mediocre standard of living.

7. What bodily noises that people make in public really irk you?
Um, all of them?

8. Describe the worst haircut you’ve ever had.
1984. Hot perm solution. Six bottles. Heat lamp. There was smoke, people. I lost half my hair density in one sitting and never recovered it. I was 10. I have never regretted a decision more in my life.

9. What were you doing yesterday at this time?
(*grin*) Flirting with someone I didn’t know and will never see again.

10. What’s the most embarrassing thing that has happened to you today?
Honey, I make an ass outta myself at every available opportunity. So by my standards, I’ve done nothing overly offensive. I think I was caught talking to myself, and I did start laughing in the restroom over something in my head, but I don’t apologize for that shit. Happy Dawn has come out to play, so hell with anyone who doesn’t love her madly!

It’s not even that I’m having a hard day (I’m choosing not to. I can have one tomorrow instead. But I don’t have the capacity for it today), but man, I could sure use a real, bona fide hug right now. Even if I have to pay someone to do it. *hugs self*

Completely unrelated (although going off-topic is the nature of this blog), weekend videos have surfaced of the Jedi pinata. That was one bitchin’ little burro — it took three 8-year-olds to massacre his papier-maiche ass. Because, of course, the adults couldn’t do it.

Have you seen Snow Patrol’s video for “Chasing Cars”? No? My fellow “Grey’s Anatomy” fans will rejoice as we relive so many of our favorite moments. Go click now. I’ll have the tissues ready when you get back.

All right, I’m going to get serious about this yoga shit. I’m probably never going to find the time to take a class. (Spare me the lecture; my best friend already gave me the “That was a non-negotiable date with yourself” schpiel.)

So today, I decided to hunt for yoga-wear. And what pisses me off beyond all recognition (right now. It’ll pass) is that exercise gear is not designed for the people who need to exercise the most. I had a hell of a time finding anything over a size small (or extra small, you cake-moments-in-progress. I want to force-feed you cake. Cake, I say, CAKE!), and what I did manage to unearth would inspire others to inquire whether I needed some butter with those rolls. Seriously! Flimsy, crappity crappy crap. That is, if one could squeeze into it at all without baking up a sheet of muffin top. GAH.

I did find a cute not-really-a-sweatsuit suit. It’s a lightweight jersey/sweatsuit-sort of material, but with that inside-out-type stitching and some well-placed flair (sorry, the gang watched “Office Space” last night). And they’re capris, which I hate, but it’s purple! Wondrous wine, I say. And I picked up an adorable shirt that was in the same family but two shades lighter. Lighter purple!

Ah, but wait, there’s more. I found a luxurious padded yoga mat (I may use it in lieu of a couch), a yoga block and a yoga strap (strap on *clap clap* strap off *clap clap*) in — you guessed it — purple. I’m so fucking color-coordinated, I nauseate myself. Hell, I even picked up a royal purple tank top with lime trim and some royal purple with lime plaid boxer shorts to sleep in. From separate stores! And they MATCH, people.

Fuck, I even bought the flatulence factories a new litterbox (as they’d annhilated the old one). Guess what color it was? I wasn’t even trying at that point!

Everything goes so well with the couch I threw away new purple chair in my living room. I’m going to look so cute when I put on all my new clothes and lay out all the yoga shit on the floor and fall asleep just thinking about my shopping expedition.

Oh, for giggles, I did buy a yoga DVD, as those damn classes are so inconvenient. (8 p.m. Pfft. Real women leave work at 9!) It’s all about how to master this shit in 10 minutes. I was more intrigued with the “yoga for pudgy pork roast asses” (heh. I’ll make one with that title some day. You just wait!) but that requires having 30 consecutive minutes and that’s just cruel. I swear, if they’d had a “yoga in three and a half minutes” DVD, I’d'a been all over that like me on cake my poop-filled cats on new litter (they’ve used the box already. It’s been five fucking minutes since I changed it!).

In any event, I did buy other black-and-white workout gear on clearance (again, people my size? NOT BUYING IT) and got a cute sport bra to match it. I’m so thrilled with myself, I just can’t wait to pack it all away and find it again in three years like I did with the last batch that I bought (in heather gray).

Speaking of pudgy pork roast asses and the color gray, the hell? Gray is SO not flattering on a double-wide tukus. Holy elephant-butt!!! I’d rather look like Barney than Dumbo!

When I roll home late at night, I love to stop by the playground and not swing on the swingset but, instead, hang upside down from it — straining my arms and feeling the strength of the chains in my hands, trying to let my hair touch the ground. (It’s not long enough anymore, but still.)

To round out the night, I also do a fast climb on the jungle gym and dismount it from the slide. And I hate sliding boards, but something about the wee hours of the night emboldens me.

Why do I do this? Because I can. Because someday I might have to tell my kid to be careful and to not do those very things, but I know just how much fun they really are.

On iTunes: Live, “Run to the Water”