Mother Nature has been stretching her limbs this week.

On Tuesday, we had an earthquake.  At least, that’s what I was told, because Lord knows, I didn’t feel a thing.  What I did experience was mild to moderate irritation that the news pre-empted General Hospitalto tell me that a handful of people had felt the ground move for approximately six seconds across the state.  Here is what I know:  you don’t promise me that Alan Quartermaine is going to make his big return to GH this week and then pre-empt the show to tell me about a few seismic waves in the Earth’s crust.  Honestly, these news anchors need to get their priorities straight.

I made it through Tuesday only to find that on Wednesday, all anyone could talk about was Hurricane Irene.  Lively debates were carried on about whether it would be a category two or category three storm when it hit New England.  I participated in none of these debates, because quite frankly, I didn’t care.

When it comes to natural disasters, Jason and I have very different approaches.  He is a “prepare for the worst and hope for the worst” kind of guy and I’m a “prepare for nothing and hope it passes us by” kind of gal.  We have been driving each other crazy all week.  He’s been visiting stores all across the state in search of ‘D’ batteries.  I stopped by Stop-N-Shop on the way home one day to pick up what I thought we might need to weather the storm – Doritos.  In an effort to be a team player, I did buy two bags – one cheese, one cool ranch.  I figured if the power goes out for a few days, we won’t starve.  (Two bags. See?)

Our conversations have gotten more ridiculous as the week had progressed.

Jason (nailing plywood across the picture window): “Do you think your mother has any ‘D’ batteries?

Me (painting my toenails in OPI’s ‘You’re a Pisa Work’): “Yup.”

Jason (really struggling to hold the plywood up): “Do you think she’d lend us some for the big flashlight?”

Me (admiring my pretty pink toes): “Not before a hurricane.”

I did wind up calling my mother, who of course had batteries, and of course would lend them to me. “Jason wants them before the big storm hits,” I said, sighing.  Mom was sympathetic.  She herself had run out for supplies earlier in the week - Smartfood and Twizzlers.

At least I know where I get it from!

We all have guilty pleasures. Some of us are just braver than others and will admit that we enjoyed the movie Frogs and hated—hated!--E.T. (You are not going to change my mind on this, so don’t even try. It was too sad and too sappy. Frogs, however, featured a cheesy death scene when a bunch of amphibians attacked a man in a wheelchair. That’sentertainment!) Here are some of my other guilty pleasures:

I really enjoy staying in bed all day watching crappy television while eating string cheese and pop chips. I don’t get to do it often, but man, it’s heavenly when I do. My afternoon lineup might include Dr. Drew’s Celebrity Rehab, Forensic Files, and re-runs of theFacts of Life.

I think Kentucky Fried Movie is one of the funniest movies ever made.

Sometimes, I drive to the gas station down the road early in the morning because I just don’t feel like making my own coffee, and they carry that tasty wild blueberry flavor. But I am too cheap to drive two blocks further to the Dunkin’ Donuts, because their coffee is more expensive than the Citgo Food Bag.

I hate wearing office-appropriate clothes. My ideal fashion role model is Stevie Nicks.

If I had my way, Jason and I would eat macaroni and cheese every night for dinner. In fact, when I was single, this is exactly what I did.  Every night.

I will admit that I found Rob Lowe’s autobiography,Stories I Only Tell My Friends, to be one of the best books I’ve read all year. Not because it was an inspiring glimpse into the life of a man who has faced adversity and overcome it, but because it gave me all the gossip behind the scenes during the filming of TheOutsiders.

Yes, I most certainly would tune in if Roseanne Barr decides to do another television show.

I own a CD of Kenny Rogers’s Greatest Hits. Because you’ve got to know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em…

Boy, that was liberating.  I’ve been keeping that Kenny Rogers CD hidden in the console of my car for years.  Go ahead. What are your guilty pleasures? Go ahead and confess them right here.  You’ll be glad you did!

I have watched General Hospital for most of my life.  It started back in 1982, when my sister would watch it while babysitting me after school.  Through the years, it’s been like an old friend – sometimes, the show makes me laugh, sometimes, it makes me cry, but mostly, it makes me wonder how to tell this old friend that I’ve grown up and it hasn’t and we don’t really need to be friends any more. 

In all fairness, GH has taught me a few things about life. For instance:

1. As long as you dress like a Vogue model and have fabulous hair, you’re ready for anything. Honestly, I’ve seen these women survive train wrecks, hotel fires, murder sprees, and car crashes (sooo many car crashes) with their perfect coifs and Jimmy Choos intact.  So now, when I’m preparing for a hiking trip or a kayak ride, I like to run right out and get a hot oil treatment and new heels.
   
2. Life is easier if you have a cool name.  This has been proven time and time again on GH.  “Frisco” was a secret agent married to a Mayan princess. “Decker” was a sexy grifter who drove a Harley. “Mikkos” was a fabulously rich super-villain who put North America in deep freeze in the middle of July.  The people with ‘normal’ names, like Benny, Tony, Casey, and Jesse?  Dead, dead, space alien, and dead.  I fully understand that “Stacey” is not nearly as cool as “Frisco.”  It is, however, awfully close to “Casey,” which means I might turn out to be from outer space.  Really, I need to dump this show.          
   
3. Nothing says ‘I love you’ like giving your fiancée a lug nut for an engagement ring/buying your girlfriend a duck/raping a teenager on a dance floor.  I wish I was making this crap up. And did that rape lead to a socially responsible, sensitive handling of a victim’s emotional turmoil and eventual victory in court of her attacker?  Heck no. That rape scene led to the most popular couple on daytime television.
   
4. People won’t think you’re a tramp if you have four children by four different men, even if the guy you’re married to isn’t the father of any of them.  See, this was an eye-opener to me. Because that sounds kind of slutty to me.  But Elizabeth Webber is considered a saint – a saint! – on this stupid show. (For those of you who watch GH, here is the scorecard: Cameron—father is Zander; Jake—father is Jason; miscarried child—father is Jax; Aidan—father presumed to be Nicolas, Lucky’s brother.  Once this broke up Elizabeth and Lucky for good (I wish!) the father turned out to be Lucky.  To me, that sounds like a slut.)
   
5. There’s always a new crisis waiting around the corner.  Sure, their crises are a little different than mine—psychopaths kidnapping the local mob boss’s children, forged paternity tests, serial killers stalking the local mob boss’s right hand man.  My biggest challenges tend to be keeping the house clean, finding time to write, and not eating an entire chocolate mousse cake all by myself even though I really want to.  But then again, I’m not married to the local mob boss.  I suppose if I was, it would spice up my life a little bit.

 
So you can see, there are some benefits to watching soap operas.  For instance, I get to release a lot of anger calling Elizabeth names every time she comes on the screen. And…um…

All right.  I’ll admit it.  It is definitely time for me to break up with General Hospital.

I will. I swear.

Tomorrow.