I've been trying to be very good and post about instruction. But today, it's just not gonna happen. My hunny worked late, so I spent the evening trying to Zumba at my sister-in-law's house. I figured I have to fit into some sort of a wedding dress sometime by October (why don't I just by a larger size dress?) and I thought it might be good to do some dancing-based exercising.
This was a bad idea. There was no actual dancing going on. There should have been dancing. The people on the screen were dancing. I was not. I was jiggling and sweating and doing any number of odd gestures to try to mimic the very attractive and ethnic dancers on the screen. But no. I'm sure I burned some calories, but it wasn't pretty.
Anyway, after I left my bro's house, I trucked it home - this is about a two-minute drive, thank goodness, because they bought a house several streets away - love it - and decided to catch up on the
Abbey. Downton Abbey, that is.
If you don't watch Downton, you might be kind of bored from here on out. That's pretty much all I'm going to talk about. Of course, I will put my spin on it, so you might get a kick out of it anyway.
Heads-up: SPOILER! of season 3, episode 2.
I say this, despite having the episode spoiled for me by enthusiastic friends' facebook posts. I totally get it. With issues this big, you need an audience to reflect.
So I sat on my couch, filled up my glass o' wine (several times, to be honest) and pushed play at pbs.org to watch (I'm ashamed) Downton Abbey: Episode 2 of this season. I know. I'm behind.
Anyway, I spent the first several minutes badmouthing Edith on facebook.
Seriously?! I said. I didn't realize it was possible for Edith to be more annoying, but it is! Lay off the cheese, Edith. "He thought his life was over, but now he finds it is only just beginning!" Barf.
And then it happened. He left her at the alter.
I'm sorry, Edith. All the things I said are true. (You're super cheesy, ok?) But I do feel bad that I posted them. He left yuo at the altar?! How crappy! That's. So. Wrong.
So I spent the next several minutes feeling a little guilty.
She handled it about as well as I would have. By which I mean she spent the next couple days in bed.
Anyway, when my hunnybun came home (three glasses of wine later) I told him about the episode while staring at him aggressively.
"And he left her at the altar!" I said.
"Wow," he said disinterestedly.
I then informed him that he better really consider the consequence of such an action. Cause they won't be pretty.
"Oh, hunny," he said. "I love you very much."
Mm-hmm. We'll see.
BTW: I really don't like any of the sisters very much. But I do like Granny, Ms. Hughes, Mr. Carson, and I looooove to watch Thomas, even though he's a big jerk.
Do you have a favorite sister? Or just a least favorite sister? My least favorite is (still) Edith.