Confessions of a woods-hermit

-We're all going to get the super-flu. Even those of us who got flu shots months ago. I'm going to make use of the lack of commute and the fact that my husband (who works with other people, as opposed to writes a dissertation on the couch) is away, and hermit it up a storm for the next few days. I'm not usually so germophobic, but I've read that this thing puts you out for three weeks. No thanks. Problem: groceries. Solution: the apocalypse mac'n'cheese I bought when holed up because of Sandy.

-Hermit-workout of running with poodle in the woods was, predictably, not quite enough exercise for the twelve-pound animal, but probably too much for the significantly larger one. Listened to Tom Ashbrook interview a bunch of people about online dating and monogamy. Racy and easy-to-follow enough to make me almost forget that I was jogging. I wanted desperately to give a history-of-marriage and common-sense lesson to the guy who called in and said internet dating is a problem because it messes with "natural selection," but pre-recorded public-radio podcasts don't have that function.

-Best Styles story ever: outrageously expensive clothing specially designed for sitting and doing nothing. Lululemon is described in it as the "relatively affordable" option, which will be my only hint as to how expensive we're talking. OK, never mind, can't resist: Donna Karan's selling sweatpants for $995. Of course, stories like this always impact readers (this reader) in the same way: first it's all, 'but who would spend a thousand dollars on sweatpants?' which quickly transitions to 'so maybe I'm not unreasonable for considering buying myself properly-fitting jeans that cost more than $100 as a reward for having passed my road test.' Considering, and this is very much contingent on my leaving the woods and trying said jeans on.

-I know I was going to boycott Into The Gloss, what with its borderline-pro-ana turn, but then they go and have a "top shelf" with a Hemingway heiress who says the following: "I’ve never used deodorant; my mother doesn’t use it, either. I don’t smell, so I don’t want to use anything. And sometimes my B.O. is kind of floral, I don’t know why. [Laughs]." It takes all my restraint not to speculate on this woman's self-awareness regarding the odor of her other bodily excretions.