Apart from the time spent reading “Preacher” yesterday, I also spent some time at the car dealership getting my emissions test performed, having them try to fix my gas gauge, and getting an oil change while I was at it.
They managed to accomplish two of the things I was hoping for, as the problem with my gas gauge is evidently going to take considerably more work to repair than I expected.
Something to do with a “fuel-sending assembly,” or something similar. “Fuel-sending” was in the name, at any rate.
However, they didn’t actually have a replacement on hand, so they’ve had to order one, and will call me to let me know when it comes in. At that time I will likely have to leave my car there overnight, as they will apparently need to remove the gas tank to replace the part.
Fortunately this should all be covered by the warranty.
If it isn’t, I’ll stick to what I’ve been doing, which is just making sure that I always have plenty of gas in the tank, which isn’t difficult, since I don’t really do all that much driving anyway. Topping off the tank once a week should pretty much always keep me covered.
A while back I was looking in the mirror and I realized that the current result of my efforts at becoming physically fit is that I look rather a lot like the “Before” picture you might see in some ad for a diet pill or exercise program.
Not the really fat “Jared before he started eating at Subway” kind of before, but the just slightly out of shape, amorphous lump sort of before.
It’s kind of sad, but that is, unfortunately, actual progress for me.
Basically, even though my waist is smaller than it used to be, I’ve put on a lot of mass. Shapeless, undefined mass.
The increases in muscle mass have managed to remain masked by the flab that’s decided to stick around, and by new flab that, despite my best efforts, has moved in. In a certain light you can see some lines of definition, but for the most part I’m just sort of shapelessly bulky in various places.
About the only areas where I can see real defined results are my forearms. They haven’t gotten too much bigger, but they have developed some definition.
Still, it’s apparent that I need to either redouble or refocus my efforts if I ever want to see any favorable results.
I did at least manage to force myself to work out during the week, so that’s something anyway.
And of course tomorrow I’ll be up early (way too early for it be “bright and early”) and chipping away in vain at the fat that refuses to break loose.
Next week my niece Jourdan, the one who’s been accepted into the Pre-Med program at Michigan Tech, and who has received a scholarship from the National Honor Society, will turn eighteen.
That just utterly blows my mind. I can so clearly remember when she was born, the first time I saw her smile, the first time I ever heard her speak, and now she’s going to be an adult.
I bought her a birthday card today, of the schmaltzy, sentimental variety, that essentially said the same thing, and talked about what a great person she has grown into (and which, thanks to the fact that I get increasingly sentimental as I get older, had me a little choked up as I read it in the store).
It’s true; she has grown from being a wonderful little girl to being a wonderful young woman.
In my mind, though, she’ll pretty much always be two years old, with her head resting on my leg as I read “I Love Spaghetti” to her...
Last Thursday, as mentioned in my entry, I went to see “Elektra.”
It was only okay, and was about as good as I expected it to be. Better than “Daredevil” was, I think, and “Hulk,” both of which have been the weakest of the recent crop of comic book movies.
Two things did stand out about the movie, though, in the form of the trailers that played before the movie started.
While I’ve seen it countless times on my computer, for the first time I got to see the “Sin City” trailer on the big screen, which was very cool.
I also saw the trailer for the upcoming “Fantastic Four” movie.
Visually, it looks very appealing, as the effects seem to be very well done.
But knowing what I do about the actual plot of it, and just looking at how poorly cast it was (I will say that Michael Chiklis is a good choice for the role of The Thing, though), the trailer didn’t do anything to get me to stop thinking that it’s going to be a total piece of garbage, much, much worse than the aforementioned “Daredevil” and “Hulk.”
I hate to be mean, at least when it comes to talking about a hot chick, but there’s actually a shot of the oh-so miscast Jessica Alba in the trailer in which she looks as though there isn’t a thought in her head. I mean, as she’s just standing there staring blankly with her mouth open you seriously expect her to say, “Duhhh….”
That being said, I’d still do her in a heartbeat…
While I didn’t see it in the theater, I have been noticing that the trailer for “Constantine” has been playing on TV a lot.
Despite how hot Rachel Weisz is, I have no intention of seeing that particular steaming pile of cinematic excrement (the jury's still out on whether or not I'll go to see FF). It would be too hard to explain the nature of John Constantine, the comic book character on whom the movie is based (though the actual comic book itself is called “Hellblazer”), but suffice to say that no matter how hard he “whoahs,” Keanu Reeves absolutely cannot play the part.
Period.
There’s just no way around it. He's going to suck ass, and I don’t have to see the movie to be able to say this with absolute certainty.
It’s not even just the fact that he’s not British, even though being British, and based out of London (in the movie, he’s American and based out of LA), is as vital to the character of John Constantine as being Kryptonian and based out of Metropolis is to Superman, it’s that the part is being played by Keanu “Am I An Actor Or A Cardboard Cut-Out?” Reeves.
It’s a shame, too, because John Constantine is a great character and he seriously should have been treated with more respect. I can’t really imagine the reasoning behind making someone so quintessentially British into an American, but I suppose someone thought that a movie about a British person wouldn’t sell tickets.
After all, we all know how poorly all those James Bond movies have done…
On the topic of steaming piles of cinematic excrement, I did see the trailer for the movie “The Wedding Date” in the theater.
This is a romantic comedy in which Debra Messing (The chick from “Will & Grace”) hires a male escort to pretend to be her boyfriend when she travels to London to go to her sister’s wedding.
Naturally this seems totally believable and sensible, since we all know that there’s no way that someone so repulsive as Debra Messing could ever attract a man without having to pay for his company.
Also, since I trip over them every time I set foot out the door, we all know that the world is just filled to overflowing with desperate single women.
As for the movie itself, I can’t help but wonder if maybe she’ll end up getting a little more than she bargained for when she hires this hunky escort. I mean, it’s not like we’ve ever seen this sort of story dealt with on movie theater screens before, so there’s no precedent for us to work from in figuring out what will happen. Is there even the slightest possibility that maybe, just maybe, they both might end up finding exactly what they’re looking for in each other, and that true love will bloom?
Nah, that’d never happen in a movie.
On that note, I think, we’ll bring another week to a close. I hope you all have better weekends than I’m likely to.
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