Music and Lyrics

Over the weekend, I watched Music and Lyrics in the theatres. I thoroughly enjoyed it; I like romantic comedies. And I like Hugh Grant's roles in those kinds of unrealistic romantic comedies.

I like how his characters are always written with all the snappiest lines and quickest comedic add-ons, and that girls swoon over the cleverness that is his (on-screen) persona. And yes, I do realize that pretty much they're all the same guy: a well-to-do British person who is slightly helpless on his own, but is quick with his words, blahblahblah. In some ways, I wish I were as witty as him.

But to my dismay, I realized that I have something else in common with him: my body.

In recent months, I've whittled down to a pasty-pale, muscle-missing, love-handle-heavy blob of undescribably strange shapes. When the madness of these few weeks settles out, I promise to myself to make this no longer true.