I can't believe I made the mistake of dying my hair and elliptical training for a goddamn hour last night. I was busy watching Lost (first hour exercising, second hour coloring) while on another channel America supposedly decided that chubby and prematurely gray is in. I'm with the conspiracy theorists on this one. No one loves a silver streaked fatso, believe you me.
So, I don't think I've ever explained why I started vomit watching because it doesn't really need a longwinded back story. For years I've been irked by tv and movies using a character throwing up to show inner turmoil. Maybe I'm just not emotionally-physically intertwined like that (it only occurred to that I'm not a warm person while watching Big Love on Sunday and Chloe Sevigny's character was told that she was cold. I mean, is that a bad thing? If the whole world was warm it'd be a mess, and no I'm not making any veiled references to global warming. All humans couldn't be touchy-feely or everything would go to shit). These are the same baffling people who get upset or stressed and lose their appetite (or can't sleep, but that's a different pet peeve) or even worse, forget to eat. That's insane, how do you forget to eat? There's not a situation I can even dream up where I wouldn't be able to eat.
Anyway, Lost from two Wednesdays ago (it's fresh because I missed at and just watched the tape Tues. night) showed Michael puking in the jungle after talking to Eko about whether people go to hell for killing. Uh, because he'd just shot the two women who were arrested for drunk driving (any coincidence that their characters were killed off?) in real life, and I guess this messed with his conscience and the guilt made him wretch. I've never killed anyone so I can't rightfully say that I wouldn't vomit in this situation. I suspect that murdering someone could be a stomach-churning experience. I just don't know that having subsequent philosophical discussions about hell would churn said stomach contents up my esophagus, into my mouth and onto the jungle floor.