Little Musings For The Day

Although not an athletic specimen, when I was a school girl I was a rather passable short distance sprinter.  Nowadays my knees aren't that keen on sprinting.  I guess I'm getting older.  Oh, I still do most of the stuff I used to do when I was younger, but I just do it at a slower pace.  Never did get the enthusiasm, nay, veritable jizzing of the spectators because someone happens to be able to run a bit faster than everyone else.  As far as I can tell, running really fast isn't going to keep fleas off the dog, or necessarily help you land a good job when you finish school.  It will come in handy if you're at the zoo, and the tiger gets loose from its enclosure.

There's something else I can no longer do, and that is handle my alcohol as well as I once did.  I had two glasses of red wine last night - that's right, a measly TWO!!! - and this morning I felt hung over.  Part of the problem was I didn't really eat dinner last night, I suppose.  But this morning I felt like I had a dirty football sock in my mouth, and my head hurt a little.  Given my vanity and hope to hold on to my youthful looks (hah!) for as long as humanly possible, I have cut down on my alcohol consumption.  To tell the truth, the last real hang over I suffered was almost four years ago at my high school reunion, which was a wonderful night full of laughter and hugs, and dancing and carousing.  My last thought when my head hit the pillow was, 'Man, I love those guys!'; my first thought upon waking was, 'Man, I am NEVER drinking alcohol again!'  I couldn't even lift my head from the pillow, and had it not been for the insurmountable urge to get to the toilet, I would have burrowed under the bedclothes and stayed here all day, notwithstanding I was actually not in my own home but the house of the parents of one of my childhood besties.  It was a bit of deja vu, that morning, waking up with a hangover after all those times my friend and I snuck in after midnight, rotten blind pissed.  Yes, that day I had to wait until it was nearly dark before I could leave just so I could be sure I was legally capable of driving.  So, note to self: when drinking red wine, have some food.

Stupidest Thing I Read Today: some article complaining about the image from a Caravaggio painting used on a pasta sauce bottle.  The problem?  It is from his painting 'Judith Beheading Holofernes' so therefore is apparently promoting violence, people!!!  I wish I wasn't so hung over today, or I'd really let rip on how I perceive this pinnacle of stupidity for the day.  Number 1: you only see Judith's head on the label and not the gruesome act depicted in the work, and Number 2: it's from a wonderful piece of art and can anybody please stop acting like dickweeds?  Hell, maybe the graphic artist who designed the label wanted to use this painting as a metaphor, you know, the bloke's blood would represent the rich, red lush sauce within the jar.  Oh, boy oh boy.