Stop, Speed Racer, stop!

Last night I let someone talk me into going with about 20 other people to see Speed Racer at the Studio Movie Grill. Which is a neat place, as you can eat dinner before/during the movie. And the food's pretty good. I had the Thai salad.

While I suppose the movie wasn't that bad - kind of like being drowned in Technicolor corn syrup for just over two hours - the soundtrack is driving me mad. It's like I have a Mobius band of "Go, Speed Racer, go!" playing in my head. One of my fellow moviegoers complained she was having the same problem.

Ultimately, it's hard to believe that the same folks made The Matrix, but there you go.

Delightful!

Friday night's outing with Delightful Date lacked nothing, except maybe a Cole Porter soundtrack.

Without going into intimate details, we eventually realized we were well-suited: while both are still cautious about getting into another relationship, neither of us fear intimacy. And as the evening progressed, I realized how much I fancied him.

All I'll say about the end of the date is to quote Sex and The City's Carrie Bradshaw:

"And just when I thought it couldn't get any better, he spooned me.".

I'm thankful he didn't let me chase him away.

PDH

My gay friend David always goes into a major panic before he goes on a business trip. Mainly, he can't decide what he wants to wear. So he calls me to come over the evening before he leaves, so I can help him color-coordinate his outfits and determine what doesn't make him look fat.

Over the years, we've come to call this PTH: Pre-Trip Hysteria.

Problem is, I am now suffering from the straight female version of PTH - Pre-Date Hysteria - and it's barely lunch time. My bedroom already looks like a post-nuclear Nordstrom, with dresses hanging off every door plus the ceiling fan.

At the moment I've tentatively decided on a plain, sleeveless black BCBG dress.

Let us hope that I don't end up wearing something so goofy that Delightful Date will suddenly have regrets, excuse himself, and sneak out the back door.

Walk softly and carry a big can of Off

I decided to put the house painting and other chores on the back burner today and headed out of town to Zavalla, a town near Nacogdoches, instead.

I hadn't been hiking at Angelina National Forest for a long time, and the weather is still cool enough to do a 10-mile hike without carrying 20 or 30 bottles of water with you.

Even though the parks services are still repairing some trails because of Hurricane Rita damage, there were still plenty of birds to see and mosquitoes to swat.

I think I'll sleep pretty soundly tonight.

Yet more proof of my appalling naivete

Why do men prefer it when women play hard to get? And why is honesty such a turn-off for them?

The reason I'm wondering is that Delightful Date is still keen on me, even after my months of indecision, postponements and semi-apathy. I was under the impression I'd waffled him into non-existence.

We're going out Friday night. It'll be interesting to see what transgresses.