Clean, not crafted, and random

My house is clean, that is. I am dirty, having spent the last several hours vacuuming, mopping, dusting, scouring, doing laundry, etc. I have to go into school for a meeting in an hour, so this isn't a totally at-home day, but it's the closest I've had in three months. This means that when GF comes home from school tomorrow (for a whole week!) she will not cough and choke at the accumulated dust, and her feet will not crunch on crystal cat litter scattered (despite my most strenuous and creative efforts to stop this) across the kitchen floor.

The not crafted refers to my blog entry. It's just a quick report from my day--raw and uninteresting--and it goes out with love to What Now, Timna, and Geeky Mom, who, during our totally wonderful lunch last week during a conference, encouraged me to "just blog" sometimes.

So here's the random part: I can't stop thinking about Grey's Anatomy. I resisted this show for two years. No concept of the actors, the characters, the premise, NOTHING. I especially resisted last season's two hour finale. I hated the show just hearing about Denny's melodramatic death. (I'm still not far enough into the show to really get who Denny is yet, even.) And then I finished watching the first two seasons of Battlestar Galactica on my video ipod and needed something else to work out to, so I thought I'd give it a try. It's a soap opera. Pure, old-school soap opera, with class differences, handsome doctors, apparently no hospital regulations or oversight, and lots of sex. The only difference is that instead of over-sexed nurses (well, there's the syphilitic one) we have over-sexed surgical residents, which is supposed to be empowering, but isn't, really. So, of course, I'm hooked on it, and needing my fix gets me to the gym pretty near every day. Yesterday I ended up doing 90 minutes on the elliptical because the episode I was watching was a two-parter (the one with the bomb) and NO WAY was I getting off that machine before I found out what happened.