Today, I'm exactly like Rafael Nadal in that, after 4 hours of sleep, I dragged my lazy ass to the gym and ran 4 miles. Though weary from Beijing, Rafa played his corazon out and won against the impressive Sam Querrey in 4 sets. Dish has always loved the number 4. And now, I'm set to eat 4 times my weight in ice cream. This night marks exciting possibilities for television viewing: new Gossip Girl, new The Closer, the Republican Convention--castrated by hurricane Gustav--and more tennis. Hurricane Dish is ready. I don't know which one to go to for the most ugliness, sex, backstabbing, and cliched dialogue. I love all the above items, as long as they don't apply to my life (except for the cliched dialogue, since I rely on it to express my feelings).
As I watched Regis & Kelly this morning, I observed Benjamin Bratt. He was never my true hunka hunka, but I pined for those easier times when he was with Julia Roberts. They broke up right after she got an Oscar and two minutes later he married someone else and had kids. So did she. I wonder if he misses that. How could he not? Since meeting Julia, Benjamin has had a better career. I mean, he was in The Next Best Thing with Madonna. Now he's in The Cleaner (kinda like The Closer only Benji's more effed up than Brenda maybe?). Dish wishes him well.
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