I have a lot of time on my hands, given that I’m currently a housewife. One of the ways I pass the time (read: procrastinate from cleaning the litter-boxes) is to trawl Netflix for streaming video worth watching for more than five minutes. As anyone with a Netflix streaming video habit can attest, that gets difficult after a while. Soon you’re down to Syfy monster movies and direct-to-video nerds-have-a-party-with-boobs stuff, and …yeah. A whole lot of bad movies.
That said, I love some bad movies. LOVE. So while some are on Netflix, I figured I’d share. While they’re “free” (read: cost of a monthly streaming membership, so about $10/month).
Why I love it (and big spoilers) after the cut: Continue reading
It’s not often I flay myself for folks to read, though I’m not exactly known for aiming kindness my own way. Anyway. My lovely husband and I are attending FogCon at the moment, which is a charming little literary sf/f convention. Highly recommended, well organized.
So, the tale. We decided tonight to get room service for dinner. Now, we had lunch at …11:30ish? It’s 7 now. And I was hungry! So we ordered a glomp of food, a true glomp. Or what I saw as a glomp because I’m completely disordered about food and appropriateness. So when the nice young waiter brought our food and it was on a special table due to so many plates, I immediately slipped into a sort of humiliation fugue state. With every perfectly reasonable dish he uncovered, I grew more and more wretched.
Finally, at the end of the recitation, I heard myself telling this bullshit story about how we hadn’t eaten all day, and wow, and it was going to feel good to finally have food, and …I just lied. I straight up lied to a young man I’ll never see again because I was so horrified with the amount of food we ordered. (for the record, we each had chicken tenders and fries, and an appetizer, and split a dessert. not that it matters) He walked out after mumbling some reassurance that really meant “I-don’t-care-lady.” My husband looked at me and said, “Oh honey,” and I burst into tears.
There are days I wish I could cut off my stomach with a knife. There are days when I wish I really could live on air and water, rather than ever put any food into my mouth ever again. There are days when I want so badly to not be in the body I’m in that I can barely stand it.
I mean…I’m doing good things for myself. I think I’ve lost a little weight lately, I’ve been working out, I’ve been eating better. But seriously, one imagined case of side-eye from a hotel waiter, and I was nearly hysterical. I put myself in jails, and food is just one more set of bars.