It's amazing sometimes, what we can get done, isn't it? It seems to me like it's been a long day, a lot has been accomplished. I'm grateful. No, it's not that I feel like I need to pat myself on the back, it's just that when I think about it sometimes I realize how different I am than when I was in my 20s... well, this is nothing more or less than maturity, right? You get older, you have kids, things have to be done and it doesn't matter a whit if you don't feel like it and frankly, I don't think about that very much. I mean, finally, you just do what you do because it's not an option not to do it.

I know I've been whining a lot lately here about being sick. Well, it is outrageous that it's been going on this long. I do feel like it's ultimately my fault for not taking the entire course of antibiotics in the first place. I just think, if I had done that, I would've gotten better and stayed better and I wouldn't have had this dragging out interminably. I'll see to that tomorrow. This time I think I can just call the doc and say the decongestant therapy didn't work... better have some more amoxicillin.

Anyway, despite STILL being sick AND having cramps that started JUST today (because too much is never enough, right?) and... oh yeah, I remembered why I don't normally drink on Saturday nights! Because just a touch too much, which is easy enough!, causes Sunday to be difficult and there's always so much to do that feeling bad is not the way to go... and I already started way behind the power curve on that score today, making it worse with a bit too much vodka last night was, to say the least: ill-advised.

And yet! I baked two loaves of VERY yummy banana bread. Did four loads of laundry: washed, dried, folded, put up. Vacuumed and tidied. Bathed myself. Watched a movie: Notes on a Scandal. Fed and bathed my kid... actually, I fed him all day: breakfast, snacks, dinner. Made Toasted Quinoa Pilaf for our dinner. Watched Iron Chef America Battle Garlic with Mario Batali who kicked serious ass. Did my globalization homework.

The movie was the sort of movie that hangs with you. You play bits of it through your mind later because... because you can't stop thinking about it. "Good" is a strange word to apply to movie like that. It was good at what it wanted to do. For certain, nothing GOOD happened in the movie, but if by "good" we mean well-written, produced, directed, performed... then yes: not just just good but excellent. The subject matter rides the razor's edge of extremely uncomfortable the whole way. The only thing that saves it from being intolerably uncomfortable is that fact that it's fiction... although, such a thing has happened in the world.

I'm not sure which aspect of the story was more unhappy and upsetting: the young teacher's affair or the older teacher's obession with the younger one and all her manipulation and scheming. It's all vaguely horrifying and you wonder how people can get their lives into such a mess. I'm grateful I'm not that sort of person. But I recommend the movie. Spectacular performances from Judi Densch (of course!), Cate Blanchett and Bill Nighy, whom I have come to absolutely adore. He was so good in Love, Actually and also so good in Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest.

I have a soft spot for Davy Jones. Of course he's mean and ruthless! He cut out his own heart! If you don't have a heart, all that's left is the meanness. But you have to feel sorry for someone who felt so deeply and was so tortured by love that they cut out their own heart. I just want to sing him a lullaby and pet his beard tentacles... tell 'im everything will be okay. I mean, I wonder what would happen if someone was actually nice to ol' Davy?

I love Iron Chef America. I love Mario Batali. If I were that challenger tonight (and he has no one but himself to blame because he PICKED Batali as his Iron Chef), I would have whimpered and cried upon seeing GARLIC as the secret ingredient. And the guy proceeded to make dish after dish with less than appealing ingredients: big pile of shaved escargot, tripe, squab heads. I mean... I'm an adventurous eater. I've had escargot, it was okay. But the stuff he made: ew. No thanks on sucking the brains out of the squab head. He kept saying, "Just try it, just try it." I would've been all, "Dude, no. I don't want that, okay? This is battle GARLIC, man, not battle SQUAB BRAINS." To be fair, it probaby didn't taste bad, but looking at the deep fried head of a bird laying on your plate is fundamentally LESS appealing than a smooth soup with a cheesy, garlicy homemade ravioli floating in it.

I'm very much wanting to be in my bed now.