I'd rather play at hug o'war

I know this has probably made the rounds here and then back again, but it just has to be said as many times as possible:

Tim Wise, you are a magnificent fucking bastard.

My girl McStevesalot sent me this on FB:



Attention, future spawn: please do not turn into an Alex P. Keaton, okay? My heart couldn't take it, nor could I handle the I-told-you-so-cackle I'd get from your grandmother EVERY TIME I talked to her.

I went to my PCP a few weeks back because of my migraines. She prescribed Topamax. Its primary use is as an anticonvulsant, but it has shown great, long-term benefit in the treatment of migraines. For instance, if you take it for a year, you can actually see up to two to three years benefit. One potential side effect is peripheral neuropathy (tingling in the hands and feet), but that is mainly in the beginning of the treatment and transient.

Another side effect (or MAJOR BONUS and a big reason why I recently switched over to Yaz for my birth control): it suppresses the appetite. I don't really have an issue with this except when I'm PMSing and during my period, so basically two weeks out of the month I'm a bottomless pit, all FEED ME and Brenda-like.

However, I discovered something this week, another side effect of the drug. As most Americans of my generation, I have a thing for soda. My soda of choice? Big Red. (That link's for you, briary_flower.) Anyway, I'd been noticing that the last few Big Reds I'd bought were flat, and then the Coke I bought with my beef fajita soft taco combo at Taco Cabana on Friday. Finally, on Monday, Katt managed to grab a couple of free, ice cold Cokes leftover from a meeting in the back workroom, and when I took a big gulp, I cringed as I swallowed down a mouthful of flat, highly sweet soda. I went to Gabs and asked her if her Coke was flat, too, and she said it was almost too carbonated to drink. "It's actually burning my throat."

So, in summation, I do not have the tinglies or migraines anymore, my appetite is practically non-existent, and soda is flat. I'd say that's a win-win-win.

In other, completely fanfuckingtastic news, Giuliani Completes His Collapse. If that isn't something to celebrate - hell, I was doing a jig in the car as they were discussing the results of the Florida primary this morning - I do not know what is. YAYS, PEOPLE. YAYS, YAYS, YAYS.

The York's response when I showed her a photograph of the Rothko sold for $73 million dollars:

"SEVENTY-THREE MILLION DOLLARS? On Design on a Dime, they could have put that together for $30 dollars." Pause. "SEVENTY-THREE MILLION DOLLARS? SEVENTY-THREE MILLION DOLLARS?!"

Seriously. The York, she never disappoints.

MAN. My salad is AWESOME, people. Fresh broccoli, cucumbers, grape tomatoes, and a nice side of baby carrots. GUH. I found myself singing, "I loooove fresh broccoli. Lalala..." But then I'm a hummer when my food is especially delicious.

I went over to the UT Nursing school to grab a salad from their little deli (oh, French Corner, your boxed lunches may suck like a Dyson but your salad with grilled chicken is hum-inducing yummy), and fuck was it gorgeous outside! One of those rare spring days – high, warm sun, cool shade, and a lovely, gentle breeze – that Houston experiences about four times a year. It made for a nice jaunt across the courtyard between the buildings.

I'm definitely driving home with the windows down this afternoon.

* I like the overall arc of Gilmore girls this season, i.e., I was finally able to catch up on all the episodes since the end of January. Seeing them all back to back like that, in one continuous thread, really showed off how well DR is doing. I like that he is actually wrapping up storylines that have been lingering since season one, specifically Lorelai and Christopher. Granted, I ship them - have since "Christopher Returns." However, we finally had a conclusion to their storyline. Somehow I doubt it would have been as neatly done in ASP's hands, simply because she hasn't been able to make a clear choice since mid-way through season two. It's always this back and forth. Then there is Emily. She will always be a bitch, a product of her upbringing and generation, but she's no longer stagnating in this pool of bitchery. There's movement, something approaching progression. Richard's heart attack was just as difficult to sit through as I knew it would be, but I so loved that scene with all four of my beloved Gilmores as they strolled the hospital hallways. It illustrated why I adored them from the word go, even with all the baggage so clearly evident in the pilot episode. I'll conclude my fannish love by saying that I also adore the trajectory of the RoryLogan relationship, and I loved watching Lane and Zack prepare, with massive amounts of grumbling and panicking, for their boys. Oh, and Mrs. Kim, you will always rock hard in my heart. (I can't go near the Anna/April/Luke custody storyline without seeing massive amounts of rageful red, so I'll save myself [and you] by not mentioning it any further.)

* 30 Rock is the most consistently funny and smartest show on network television. I cannot wait until it comes back, which according to my DVR, is this Thursday. I'm enjoying Andy Barker, PI well enough, but it is no 30 Rock.

* Slither is disgusting but oh so funny. Gunn so ably captured all that is fantastic about a good, scary monster movie while putting his own stamp on things. (He named the high school after Fred Ward's character in Tremors, people! One word: AWESOME.) I should also note that Gunn really writes some fantastic females. I loved Tania Saulnier and Elizabeth Banks, especially Banks. She was so fucking kickass as Starla. Plus, Nathan curses up a fucking storm, thereby putting it into automatic classic territory. (I'm shallow, yo.) But then I checked out the extras, all of them (a sure sign I love the film, if I'm checking out even the technical shit), and Nathan is AFUCKINGDORABLE, with his little-boy-like, "You scared the shit out of me!" Seriously, when does Drive start? I need my weekly fix of one Mr. Fillion, thanks. Another thing, the juxtaposition of Gregg Henry in this versus his polished role as Logan's pops on GG is pretty fangirl-inspiring, but then he had me at, "Move the fuck out of the way cocksucker!"

* The Lookout was decent, but not the immediate classic the critics are hailing it to be. JGL was fantastic of course. And pretty. So fucking pretty. It's funny. When he's half-naked (at one point, he wakes up in shorts and no shirt) he looks more solid, but dressed, he looks so fragile, as if I could take him over my knee and break him in half, all vengeful giant like.

* Upon second viewing (went to see it with Mom), Premonition is still as good and affecting, and knowing how it ends, I was able to sit back and pick up all the clues, but then one of the first scenes gives it away. It really reinforced that the "premonitions" are just the McGuffin of the piece.

* I find Paul Walker immensely more attractive when he handles his business like he did in Running Scared. He was capable and BELIEVABLE. (My world is all-askew.) He fucking rocked that part like I haven't seen him rock a part since Joy Ride. He was so gritty and worn around the edges (which makes TONS of sense once you realize what's really going down). Then he starred opposite Vera Farmiga, who played his kickass, take-no-names wife, and I just about died of happiness.

* Brothers & Sisters, how is it you make me laugh fucking out loud one minute, only to have me in tears the next? In short, how you so awesome?

I had other thoughts, but as I predicted, since I didn't write them down, they've fluttered away as so much else has over the last week. Dude, whatever this was I got this time kicked my ass, and then handed my kicked ass back to me, laughing.

Today is Katt's birthday so we're having chili-dogs and chips followed by strawberry cake with ice cream. God, I love hot dogs, but chili dogs OWN MY SOUL. Seriously. The only thing missing is the onions. It really isn't a chili dog without onions. Lots of them. However, we’re a close little office, so I’ll make do without.

Just got back from a birthday party for the doctor who started our leukemia department waaaay back in the day (he's been here forty-two years). He is eighty years old today and, I swear, doesn't look a day over sixty.

The upside to this (aside from the fact that he's a rather charming fellow and watching Dr. K, that nutty ol' Aussie, graze the table while everyone else was still giving speeches) was the fruits and vegetables. Strawberries, red grapes, fresh-cut broccoli and cucumber, cantaloupe and honeydew. Gabs and I were very happy little pigs.

Also, I saw my beloved Dr. Cutie McSnootie. He moved on to BMT several months back to continue his fellowship here, so I don't see him as often, but hot damn. He was sporting a full beard and seems to favor looser-fitting pants now, and he's looking all the better for it.

Now that's how you end a week.

And if this is true, I may have to watch the Grey's Anatomy spinoff. Damn you, Shonda. Damn you to HELL. (FYI: potential casting spoiler for the spinoff so click at your own risk.)

Am so stuffed.

Dinner on unit going splendidly.

Possibly ate too much food.

Drinking latte in hopes of preventing possible explosion.

Turkey putting me to sleep and I only ate four bites.

Will be much more coherent later.

Zzzzzzz....

This weekend is ASH, which means most, if not all, of the doctors and most of the top-level administrative staff will be out of town through Monday. Naturally, as the docs trickle out of here for the airport, there is a rising sense of anticipation rippling through the floor.

And in celebration, the girls and I are going out to Chuy's tomorrow for lunch. My mouth is watering just thinking about it.

IT'S THURSDAY!

Gabs' friend made her pecan pie, and she happily shared. Mmmm...pecan pie. It just don't get any better than that.