Also, it’s my birthday today.

I”m twenty-four.

Yikes.

I can’t really think of a better way to spend a warm May evening than watching a nine-year-old I really dig play second base. Boys. Are so. Serious.

So, remember that time the universe was all, “Hey Kate, what do you like to see in TV shows?”

And I was like, “Well. High schools. Musical numbers. Floppy-haired Spanish teachers. One part earnestness to one part irony. Show choirs. Secret love. Reasonably entertaining secondary characters. Nerdy girls and popular guys who are thrust together by circumstance–” (at this point the universe cut me off with its derisive laughing and was like “Oh REALLY, that’s what you like?”) “–people following their dreams, that cute guy I saw on Broadway in Footloose back in the day, athletes who really want to perform, desperate yearning, and Chuck Taylors with rolled up jeans. Also, montages of people making important life decisions set to a showtuney version of “Don’t Stop Believin'”.

And the universe was like, “You know what? DONE.”

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NNU0KoBIIdE]

You guys. Glee. Glee Glee Glee. Delighted my effing face off.

If I can’t have Danny Gokey, I guess–I GUESS–Kris Allen is okay.

I guess.

It seems like everybody in blogland is talking about the 30 Day Shred, so last night I went ahead and checked it out (it was onDemand, what what).

HOLY COW.

First of all, I love Jillian Michaels. She’s terrifying. To quote my friend S, she survives on pure protein powder and the souls of fat people. She’s totally buff in a “I’m not doing this to impress dudes, but I could beat the crap out of you” kind of way. She wears TWO sports bras. And there are few greater pleasures in this world than sitting on the couch eating chocolate bread pudding and listening to her yell, “WHY ARE YOU FAT?” at the top of her lungs on The Biggest Loser.

So anyway, like I said, I tried the Shred. And you guys. I loved it. I mean, I hated it, I was jumping around like an idiot lifting family-sized jars of Ragu Tomato and Basil because I’m too cheap to buy hand weights, and Tom made the mistake of coming into the room to get some water and I screamed “GET OUT OR I WILL SHRED YOUR FACE!”

But.

The whole thing is only like twenty minutes long, and you only do each excercise for like a minute at a time, and you get to pantomime jumping rope, and instead of being like, “You can do this, ladies,” Jillian is all, “I know you want to die, and I do not care.”

Frankly, I did want to die a little, and I appreciated her honesty.

She’s real clear that you have to do it thirty days in a row to get it to work, and I can tell you right now that that’s not gonna happen, so I probably won’t start my summer off shredded. But I’m totally going to see what other stuff she’s got out there, on the off chance she’s got one called “Jillian Michaels 30-Day Pie Eating Extravaganza.”

Go big or go home, right?

5,300 words written

Some amazing, amazing cards from uncooked and koco (HEY. If you have a birthday card coming from me in the next couple of months–and you know who you are–no peeking. They’re too good.)

$3 Bombay and tonics at a bar in Easthampton, Massachusetts

Renee’s amazing vegan chili (with cinnamon!), edamame salad, and Boston Creme (ish) cupcakes

Free St. Ives at CVS, thanks to some crumpled coupons and extrabucks I’ve been carrying around in my purse for a week

Teriyaki-raisin chicken salad on whole-wheat toast

New Dave Matthews on the radio (although I suppose I might have hallucinated that, as it almost sounds too good to be true)

My oregano is coming up! Still no word from the basil.

A really wonderful mix cd from SS

Fitting into jeans a size smaller than the jeans I thought I was going to fit into

OH HI President Obama, I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it today, but you are articulate. 

On Monday’s Agenda: baked ziti from the freezer, Netflix with Tom, produce to shop for, calls to return. But first: more coffee. Like a lot of it. Like a gallon.

I always like it when Frankie comes over.

Dumb dog.