Here Comes the Rain ... Again

I live across from a lovely park, inviting me to jog around it, to enjoy its urban oasis thing. And I actually seriously entertained the idea of tying on the sneaks and trying it today. Except that it is raining. Again. And the only thing worse than running in the cold would be running in the cold and wet. But I figure Mother Nature is trying to tell me something, because Chicago has experienced its coldest and wettest October on record. Which largely sucks (we've seen some flurries, I had to break out the coat, and the umbrella). But at least it's not just me.

Besides, it's not like I am a jogger. I don't actually like running, so I can't say I am overly broken hearted. If I am going to do something fast, I am going to samba. Although I am trying to get moving indoors. Pushups/situps during commercials. Which really motivates me to watch more movies, but hey.

And here is some random:
Why are wines called varietals? What is wrong with varieties? What makes wine so damn special? Oh wait, I remember, the people who make it and sell it are the same people who use dumb words like "varietal".

And along a similar alcohol-infused vein:
"Excuse me. Can I get a real bottle? I'm an alcoholic, not a Barbie Doll." - from the new movie Mr. Woodcock

on iTunes: KT Tunstall - "Other Side of the World"