This is one of my favorite things.

The amazing Kerry Ellis, performing for Wicked In Rock.

It's first on my workout playlist and very effective at getting me going.

Breaking News

I've been talking about Paula Deen too much. You can tell because all my ads are for Mayonnaise and Whoopie Pies. So from now on, when I'm talking about Paula, I'm going to refer to her as The Woman Trying To Kill America.

Because I'm going to try not to mention her anymore, but I can't make that promise.

The Brighter (Or Not So Bright) Side of OCD

Sometimes the constant calorie counting in my head is useful.

For instance:

My Approximation:

2 Krispy Kreme Original Glazed Donuts @ 210kcal Each: 420kcal

Hamburger Patty, AT LEAST 6oz: 560kcal

Fried Egg (I'm assuming just one even though it looks like it could be two): 90kcal

Bacon: 60kcal

The Two Tablespoons of Butter I'm Sure Are In There Somewhere: 200kcal

Total: 1330kcal. Untold amounts of saturated fat.

And Paula Deen standing there grinning like she's just made the best food ever. No wonder "Paula Deen is trying to kill me" is the most searched phrase on Google that starts with "Paula Deen is..."

In related, ironic news, I'm not actively counting my calories anymore! This is kind of a major thing for me. I started counting when I wanted to lose weight at the Canyon, when I need to lose weight because I had gotten to 165lbs, and it immediately appealed to my OCD. Everything gets counted up, quantified, and assigned value. It's all under my control.

So I took to counting like Slim Jenkins to rice. Everything people complained about when they were told to count calories was everything I loved about it.

I was good at it and it showed. I went from 165lbs to about 135lbs in about eight, nine months. After that my progress was slower, but I chipped away to 125lbs, incorporating more and more exercise - walking and intense stationary biking at the gym. And then we had a snowstorm, and the gym was closed for four days. Jonesing for my hard workout fix, I started running.

Running did things to my weight that nothing else could. Those last 10lbs to my goal weight just dropped away - and then some. Before I knew it, I was 107 and struggling to put at least 5lbs back on. Counting then had a different purpose - to make sure I was actually eating ENOUGH, and getting the right proportion of all three macronutrients.

But now I'm... you know, I'm OK. I'm a few pounds heavier than I want to be to run my best, but I'm fixing that. I realized that I needed to stop counting when I realized I was just trying to get as few calories as possible in me - getting to 1800, on the low end of where my doctor wants me eating, felt like a bad day. As The BFF put it, "That's some eating disorder shit."

So I stopped. I'm working really hard to eat well while simultaneously not microanalyzing what I'm putting in my mouth. I've been counting long enough that I know what I should eat, and what I shouldn't, and how much, and that's enough for me to be able to get back to 115 and maybe feel like an attractive runner again.

If I ever count again, it'll be when I'm in a headspace to be able to do it responsibly and mindfully. That's just not where I am right now.

EDIT: In keeping with the Paula Deen, "This Is Not How You Do It" theme, here's how you don't exercise. Kudos to her for trying, seriously, but the whole time you're exercising you're telling those watching you not to do it. I'm confused and your husband looks like the Gorton's Fisherman.

It Takes A Minute (That's What She Said)

A while back, Glee did a 'Bad Song' episode, where they took all these supposedly bad songs and made them good again. However, I happened to think that most of the songs featured were not bad so much as just not good.

So I started thinking about BAD songs. And ladies and gentlemen, straight from the archives of my pre-coffee brain, here's my vote for the worst song ever made. Bar none. It fails on both fronts - it's not only a bad song musically, but its subject matter is more than a little offensive.

It's called 'Some Girls Dance With Women.' In it, JC Chasez goes to a lesbian club and thinks all the girls are dancing for him, instead of staring at him because he's a dude. In a lesbian club. It features him not-really-singing, and not-really-dancing, though he tries because this is close enough following his N*Sync days.

All "Oh, the poor ignorant boy bander - all the lesbians probably think he's a girl so they DO hit on him" jokes aside, JC Chasez had to know that sometimes people are just GAY. I mean, he was in a band with Lance Bass.

What do you think? Worst song ever?

Easter-time is the time for eggs.

I'm considering some tag lines for Easter.

Easter: Like Christmas, but without the loot.

Easter: OMG CADBURY

Easter: Just wait till your kid asks you what a rabbit has to do with Jesus.

Easter: Have you ever put a Peep in the microwave?

Easter: Jellybeans aren't vegan. Think about that.

Easter: No, I don't know why we don't have turkey for this one, either.

Easter: You gotta have two outfits for it because the weather doesn't always celebrate it.

Easter: I don't care if you're wearing awful new shoes, kid, RUN FOR YOUR LIFE THE OTHER KIDS WILL STEAL ALL YOUR CANDY!

Easter: Jesus loves you, but not enough to make the candy easy to find.

Easter: The day before I make myself sick on discounted chocolate bunnies.

Easter: Some time around April. We think.

Easter: Crucifixion is a downer. Let's paint eggs.

Easter: You can only get a fresh Peep once a year.

Easter: Lent: Finally Over

Cooking with the English Major

Today marks a momentous day. Today is the first day I ever seriously thought, "Ugh. I don't want to go to this class." I even thought - and hold the phones, people, because I never thought this could happen - "Maybe I should skip it."

That's what Tom Cruise does to you, ladies and gentlemen. Because we started watching War of the Worlds in class today, to go along with our reading of Wells, and I'm very firmly convinced that in the first 20 minutes of that movie, Tom Cruise is not acting at all. It's his personality, on screen, for all of us to see. And it annoys the living daylights out of me.

If I ever met Tom Cruise I would punch him in the face, probably not just once, and it wouldn't be on purpose at all. He just does that to me. His face, the way he smiles and holds himself... something about him makes me very aware that he believes that he is entitled to everything. Like he's nodding along when Charlie Sheen is talking about tiger blood and Adonis DNA and being better than common people.

So, yeah. I almost skipped class for the first time since I started here, and it's all Tom Cruise's fault.

Oh! I almost forgot to tell you that I was terribly inspired by Sandra Lee this morning, and I wrote a recipe. Yes, for real. It's a special Easter recipe.

"Semi-Homemade" Chocolate Easter Lollipops

Ingredients:

6 Cadbury Eggs, original Creme flavor (wait until you've mastered the recipe before making dangerous substitutions here)

6 Decorative Party Skewers, assorted colors, Bunnies preferred

Directions:

1. Take one egg and figure out which end is the bottom (hint: it's the less pointy one).

2. Peel the aluminum wrapper off.

3. Insert pointy end of one skewer into the bottom of the egg. Don't push it all the way through!

4. Hey, look, you made a lollipop.

5. Repeat 1-4 with the rest of the eggs.

6. Put all 6 lollipops into the freezer and leave them alone overnight. This is the very important part that makes it a recipe, so don't forget to do this.

Should serve six, but who are you kidding?

'Mic Terror' makes it sound like you have stage fright at a spelling bee...

Here's a guy named Mic Terror. I can't tell you anything more because his website asks you to please 'bare' with him as he gets it off the ground, and Wikipedia's got nothing.

If only he didn't have such good flow. Then I could just tsk and move on. But it's hard to pick my favorite part of this video... the part where he steals a little boy's basketball, the little coin purse hanging from his pants, or the fact that every time he says, 'Riverdale,' I hear, 'Rivendale,' and my brain supplies me with an image of hobbits dancing.

Oh, no. My favorite part is the gratuitous shot of the Burger King. Hioooo, y'all.