I'm on so many steroids, just call me Barry Bonds

[chasingkerouac]

Since after typing this I realized that it's hella long and rambly, we're going to cut it into sections.


Being sick sucks balls. And I so rarely get sick that when I do, it flattens me on my ass. I haven't had bronchitis in years. Hell, probably a solid decade if I bothered to remember the last time I had it. But I have it now. When I asked the doctor yesterday if I could go into work today, he laughed -- LAUGHED -- at me. And then I made my way to the Wal-Mart to fill my handful of prescriptions and the pharmacist asked me if I drove myself.

Pharm: *looks at trio of prescriptions* Did you drive yourself here?
Me: *looks at him funny* Of course I did.
Pharm: You... probably shouldn't have done that. How are you feeling?
Me: ...Crappy. It's why I'm here, getting drugs. Although I'd be more than happy to come visit you when I'm feeling great.
Pharm: I'm just saying, you're obviously not feeling good. You look a little yellow.
Me: I'm fine.
Pharm Tech: Yeah, you really don't look so good.
Pharm: Not good at all.

In retrospect, I totally should not have driven myself around that long. But when that's your only option? You do what you have to do. And luckily I live right down the street so it's not a long ride.

And apparently my voicemail into the office yesterday got passed around not just my department but around the entire college -- apparently the rambly mixed with the wheezing and the coughing made for a hilarious message. Which is why I sent in an email today.

Had a visit today from Beaz. Beaz, whom is probably one of the best friends you could every possibly have and I am so looking forward to her moving in with me and R!D when R!A moves out in Feb. But I run out of OJ about 4:30 this afternoon and have been given strict instructions not to drive today or tomorrow until I don't need my inhaler after moving around. But I run out and I'm all 'you know, I'll give Beaz a call. She doesn't know I'm sick but maybe she'll pick me up on OJ after work'. Not three minutes later I get a text from her going 'Hey, how are you feeling? Heard the voicemail -- you sound dead, mon. Can I pick you up anything?' To which I'm all 'I just ran out of OJ, so if you wouldn't mind, I'd love you forever.' She shows up at my apartment 30 min later with two gallons of OJ, three magazines (Something mindless -- Glamour, something educational -- National Geographic, and something so ridiculously amusing that she couldn't pass it up and it would totally give me a laugh -- a Weekly World News with the headline 'Hillary Clinton names Bigfoot as her running mate!' to which Beaz says that it'll be the big match up of '08 with Clinton/Bigfoot vs. Cheney/Voldemort) and a pint of ice cream -- the kind with cookies, not cookie dough of which I'm not a huge fan. She's seriously one of the best people I know, and it's things like that that just make her ever so awesome. I'm so lucky to have friends like that.

But I'm on the upswing. Hopefully I'll be fine by Sunday. This not moving and not speaking out loud thing without having the inhaler handy just drives me batshit crazy.


And now on to RB, travel bunny...

And speaking of good friends, spent MLK up Calgary way with spazzula. I'd never been to Canada so it was awesome to get to spend time up there and see the sights and hell, just to get to spend some time with her since we realized that we hadn't actually sat down next to each other in a good two years and that was incredibly too long and we should never go that long again because it disrupts the balance of the universe.

Yes, it's that important *lol*

But I got to bum around the city with her. Got a couple of yoga tops that if I say so, make me look fantastic, a Lulu headband that of course I lost on the flight from Toronto, and a great yoga jacket. Mmm, shopping. And? I totally got to go bobsledding. Like full out, Cool Runnings, 119 kph down an icy chute at the Canada Olympic Park bobsledding. dompazz wins at life for the single statement of 'Hey, wanna go bobsledding on Tuesday?' because that's always been a dream of mine since I watch Cool Runnings like once a year and hello? So totally got to do it. Wins. At. Life.

But it was an absolute blast. Don't even care if I came back with bronchitis, I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Yay for friends. Friends rock.


And that's pretty much what's going on real life. But since I have nothing else to do today since I cannot speak or go into work, now we go into television. And honestly? This has been the 'week to make RB cry at television'. I'm every so happy that I got to actually watch SGA 'Sunday' with spazzula, even if we were both pissed.


SGA 3.17 Sunday
You know? I'm glad I was spoiled for this. If I hadn't have been, I would have been swearing up a storm on spazzula's couch -- which is ever so unbecomming. It gave me time to prepare, and I needed that. Carson IS my favorite character. Neck and neck with Lorne, but they fill two different roles for me. And then they go and screw him over with fucking exploding tumors? Exploding tumors? Maybe if the entire scene didn't seem like they just watched the Superbowl episode of Grey's Anatomy and took all of the realism and pathos out and gave it exploding fucking tumors. And it's such a shame that the entire episode is ruined for me because of that last part. Lorne painting? Loved it. Radek the chess king with an itch for a swedish massage from a pretty doctor? Fantastic! Ronon beating the shit out of John before sitting down with beer and 'deep convo'? So entertaining. And the Carson bits intersperced -- he's just a doll. And he's witty and caring and human and God, how can you not just adore him? And then they go and fuck me over with exploding tumors.

And all I want to know is why? Why? Is this imperative to the plot? Did Paul McGillion piss off the wrong person? Did TPTB piss off Paul McGillion? Did TPTB need to make financial cuts in terms of credited characters (Carson and Weir) in order to pay for more expensive characters (Carter) who are still under contract and they have to find a place for? Did TPTB just want to see what would happen if they were to piss off an good chunk of fandom?

And hell, if you wanted/needed to kill him off -- couldn't you have come up with something more believable than EXPLODING TUMORS? It's like you saw the Grey's ep with the bomb and thought 'how can I made this RIDICULOUS. Ooh, EXPLODING TUMORS!' *shakes head* It's like a little extra 'fuck you' to Carson fans, plot fans, science fans.... just fans.

And I have to just hold on to the hope that he ascended at the end. Of all the people, I can see Carson ascending. John? Never. Rodney? Never. Carson? Totally. So I'm just going to hold on to that because sci-fi is like soaps. No ones ever really dead unless you see the dead body -- and sometimes not even then. Yes, Rodney says that they took the body back, but even if they did, there's no way they opened that casket if the body was caught in a fireball like that. So it's perfectly reasonable that they took the casket back to Earth and just told Mum!Beckett not to open the casket cause of the body. And there's really no body in there because Beckett ascended. Total soap ploy. That's my hope and I'm sticking to it.

But I'm still pissed. And I don't think I'll be able to watch the ep again for a very, very long time. Honestly? I may just pretend it doesn't exist.



Grey's Anatomy
Oh George... God, why did they have to pull the plug on Papa!O'Malley? He was great, and it destroyed George and I LOVE George. And that made me start bawling when I watch it on the DVR this afternoon. I just... *snuggles George.


And... I think that may be it. Until I'm bored tomorrow afternoon when I still can't talk.

I'm going to eat ice cream. Ice cream wins at life.