Jesus last night – it’s one of the movies I rented on Movie Rental Tuesday – and right after the part where Jesus heals a crippled boy (he’s a miracle-doin’ fool, that guy), I heard a sniffle from Fred’s direction. The Mommy in my head kicked in. "Oh, I hope he’s not getting sick. Does he need a tissue? Some cold medicine?" I turned my head to look at him, and tears were just a-pourin’ down his face. So I laughed at him. I know, I’m an awful wife, but it was funny to be sitting there, my eyes not in the least teary, and have him practically sobbing loudly. Apparently one of the big ways we differ is that he cries during happy parts of movies, and I cry during the sad parts. I know you women out there are jealous since I got me one o’ them SENSITIVE guys who can cry. But hands off, ladies, he’s taken. (And by the way, I DID get his permission to write about his tears, so don’t email me and tell me how mean I am for blowing his cover) Earlier today, I was reading this month’s Glamour magazine (I really need to cancel that subscription), and I came across a something entitled "Karma Calculator". Basically, it’s a list of sins, and they ask a Rabbi, a Monsignor, and a Buddhist guy how to clear your karma – and conscience – when you "commit a moral faux pas." So far so good, right? The sins begin: Stealing someone’s parking space, cheating on your SO, gossiping about a friend. But I have to take exception to Sin number 5, which is: "Taking a sick day at work when you’re not really sick." This is a sin? I don’t THINK so. Is god really up there making little black marks next to my name when I call in sick to work when I’m really just needing a day in bed with crappy magazines? Even better are the religious guys’ advice. The rabbi says you should come in on a weekend day or forgo one of your vacation days. The Monsignor says you should work overtime without putting it on your timecard. The Buddhist guy says "Try to work as if it’s your true vocation instead of just killing time." Sh’YEAH. Fuck THAT. I know, I’m going straight to Hell. Also in the Glamour magazine was an article by Elizabeth Wurtzel, she of Prozac Nation fame, about her addiction to ritalin, which led to a cocaine addiction. Aren’t her 15 minutes up yet? Man, I can’t believe tonight’s the last Survivor. Surely they’ll show it again in reruns? Please, oh please? They had a segment on the noon news here showing the final four as they look now, and Rich has dropped even more weight, and shaved the facial hair. He’s almost cute. Almost, I say.]]>
08/23/2000