I Me Mine, I Me Mine, I Me Mine

Whoa.

After my 14-year-old electric shaver* finally died last week, I spent several days getting hairier before going shaver shopping. (I'd also been getting hairier on my Washington trip, simply because I hadn't brought the shaver along. Full-er disclosure and all that.) I found one (as well as a separate little nose hair trimmer, because I am officially old I could use some cleaning-up there), unpacked it Sunday, let it charge for 24 hours per the opening-use instructions, then a few minutes ago fired it up.

Ah, there's the difference between 14 years old and zero years old. The shaver was all HAIR HAIR GIMME HAIR YUMMY HAIR I'LL GRAB SOME HAIR, HAIR-HAIR-HAIR-HAIR. It got hair. I switched to the lift-up hair trimmer to do the preliminary, um, weeding, so that the remaining hairs would be shorter and the shaver wouldn't grab those so enthusiastically.

In other news, I can be amused by shaving. Never thought that would happen.

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* A graduation gift back in 1996 from my then-girlfriend Alicia. She preferred me clean-shaven, and I was happy to oblige. My look works clean-shaven or VanDyked. Be-VanDyked? Is that the correct term?

Didn't see Lost last week. (I was watching burlesque instead. No, there are no photos at the link.) Once again, though, I can watch Lost on the big screen at the Bagdad. Not only that, but the theater opens at 8, in time for the recap showing of the Lost episode from last week that I haven't seen yet. Elegant, if my timing for getting to the Bagdad works tonight.

I was missed at work during my week-and-a-half away. That helps the ego.

That's all that needs saying.

I have you now, Roger Thornhill.

(Thanks, Mike Russell!)

Quick Lost-y thoughts, post-Bagdad screening of it:

Okay, so I definitely recognized who was in that. (I didn't recognize Charles Widmore at the end of Ben's big episode. I'm being sensitive to that revelation stuff.)

Looking back at the temple stuff, the temple stuff still seems like a digression. Didn't the show runners already have enough to play with?!

Nice to see the flash-sideways stuff starting to tie together. Figured it had to.

In one scene, it briefly looked like there was blood on bedsheets. That would've implied a...different scene.

Now I better understand why Miles rocks.

THAT got applause from the audience. THAT was well-done, show runners.

Other thoughts from the night:

I've been recognized as a likely-to-be-giggly drunk. P.S. I have not been drunk today.

The Clash of the Titans remake should've had this ad slogan: BITCHSLAP THE GODS. (Hey, no worse than "Titans Will Clash," right?)

My seafood kick continues apace. Dungeness crab cakes were dinner, and they were good. Thanks for getting me meat out for me, whoever prepared that crab! Now I know how much work that is!

I want warm weather. As soon as possible. I'll settle for warm weather in my bed.

I don't have the American Idol-enjoying gene. I also don't have the Dancing with the Stars-enjoying gene. *shrugs* Maybe So You Think You Can Dance would be more my speed.

I feel like a bad science fiction geek for admitting this, but I still have no interest in this new V. Even with my man-crush on Alan Tudyk the show lookin' all slick and pretty, and promising human-alien war. (How would a story like this work? Aliens reach our solar system, but instead of attacking Earth they attack a different part of our solar system. They're messing with asteroids and maybe even other planets, but don't conveniently bring the fight to us; how would we handle that? Maybe we'd even have trouble recognizing that aliens were playing with our solar system. Still, that avoids the problem of If aliens need resources like, say, water, why go to Earth? Why not just siphon off Europa's water or a comet's water or something?)