Is anyone else supremely and ridiculously excited for the Sex and the City movie? (Does anyone even know if it has a title beyond that?)

I know that my girlish swooning confounds Steve, so I tried to explain SATC to him as the most delicious junk food for the brain – and the movie will be like a two-hour binge.

I just feel all sentimental and emotional even just thinking that such a vehicle exists in this world, and I cannot wait to get my eyeballs on it.

And the lead up to it. Well.

Next week I head to LA for a red carpet event. And then on the weekend, I am witness to Christy and Mark’s nuptials. And we (we, as in the girls – Joanne, Paula, Leah, and Beth in spirit) are going to see the Sex and the City movie on its premier weekend In the City. The City of New York. Where it all started. God I miss that freakin' place.

And also? I saw SJP on the Actor’s Studio tonight, and it just made the fever (and the fervor) sweatier for me. She hinted about the movie, and it scared me a little bit, because first of all, it’s how I imagine the sequel to my first novel will be -- so  that's just creepy, and secondly that scares me, because, well … will it have been done before by the time I will get to it? Or will it pave a nice path that people will (and by people I mean women don’t be silly) be hungry for?

But mostly, the whole affair is just a huge, I mean huge reminder as to why I need to finish this book of mine.

I am ridiculous. I got up early this morning and made a big old chart with some tables at the bottom so that I may gleefully track my fitness progress on my road to the dress fitting. I’m a little less than four weeks away, so I need to be super vigilant about eating clean (isn’t that the new buzzword kids are using these days?) and getting in some super tough workouts every day of the week. Except for one day, during which I let myself recover from the pounding.

I would also like to work in some kind of planned “cheat meal” per week, but maybe that will be just whenever we go out. Since we’re old now. And we never go out. Which is actually kind of fine with me, because we bought the world’s supply of meat on our last grocery shopping trip, so we’ve been cooking fairly often.

Anyway. So the charts. The whole thing-uh-muh-bobber fits on one piece of paper. The big graph is color-coded in pink and green – pink for weight, and green for bodyfat. Right now, they are both moving in the right direction (downwards) so I’m a bit giddy about that. Although my butt hurts. On account of the soreness. From working my glutes silly. Just silly, I tell ya.

And then I have three tables below the graph so that I can chart my measurements (arms, chest, waist, hips, blah blah blah) every week.

Steve is so supremely disturbed by this behavior. He told me I have OCD in two areas. One being this whole charting business. I can’t argue there. The other is with the working out, and spending time thinking about what I’m going to do in my workout, and then working out, and then thinking about the workout afterwards.

Last night, as I was going to sleep, all I could think about is work. It’s my life right now, since the channel is launching on June 4th and so there’s much to be done. I was done thinking about work though, as I was drifting off to sleep, and so I strove to find something else to think about.

I won’t lie. Fond memories of my work out helped me fall asleep.

But soon. Soon I will be able to do pull-ups. And then I’ll feel badass.

And then the channel will launch. And hopefully pull-ups won’t be the greatest thing to happen to me.

First off, I would just like to say that I can’t believe it’s only freaking Tuesday. For the love - can this week go any slower.

However, after yesterday’s weird exhaustion, I’m feeling way, way better today. I got up at 6:30 and headed to the gym where I ran for 10 minutes, did some weights and then ran for another 10. I finally feel totally on track for getting my bodyfat percentage back down around 22%. (I’m currently at about 28%.) The question is, how fast can I do it?

I feel like I have a ton of energy today, which I have needed every last bit of to get through the number of hurdles chucked in front of me today.

Tonight I think I’ll put on the sneaks and go for a walk before dinner so I can unwind and relax a bit. I need to learn a little stress management, because my days are so entirely crammed that I’m not going to be long for this world if I don’t figure out how to chill out on cue. (And I mean a way that doesn't involve guzzling booze.) Tips and ideas are welcome.

My stress dreams are becoming much more vivid again. Last night, I dreamt that arsonists were torching all the Toy R’ Us stores in Manhattan, one by one. Except that Toys R’ Us was a restaurant chain and there was one in each neighborhood. And location-wise, we were guessing that we were actually inside the next target, so we had to scramble to get out before it went down in flames.

Yeah. That doesn’t make any sense to me either. I went to bed at 8 p.m. last night and slept until 7:30 this morning (so much for my morning workout) and even though I got almost 12 hours of sleep, I still feel so incredibly and indescribably exhausted today. But I will try to describe it anyway. I feel drugged and sorted of floaty and like my hands aren’t connected to my brain. And I have a sore throat and a runny nose. So I think what this means is that I’m sick.

My guess is that I had best do the work that absolutely HAS to get done today, and then I need to get my butt back home to beat from the bug.

The wedding dress. It has arrived. And now. Now I must have a fitting. Of the dress. On June 11th.

What does this mean? This means that I can no longer procrastinate on the tightening & toning.

The last time I put the dress on (well, the floor model anyway) I wasn’t all that happy with my arms and back. They were kind of smoothed out and rounded. I want to see muscles. I want to be a ripped, hot, fit and toned bride. Not a mushy or squashy bride.

So now the heat is on, and I need to get down to business in terms of watching what I put in my mouth and working out with dedication.

I’ve got a month to renovate the old bod. Wish me luck.

PS: The brain is back. My stress dream last night involved my sitting next to Sarah Jessica Parker at a crowded party in which the only toilet was in the middle of the room, which happened to be about a foot from where we were sitting. It was, in a word, horrifying.