OK, I didn't actually mix my two favorite sodas together, but I have an empty can of each before me, and the idea now charms me.
The Bee Interview went well. There weren't any bees, as it was too cold, and I spent a chunk of the day transcribing the near-hour long interview from audio to print. Now I just have to write the article. Easy, right? Except I'm sleepy and a little bit under the weather, and my big desire right now is to curl up in the fetal position (my personal favorite) and watch Angel reruns, and sulk over the fact that Netflix has not yet sent me my episodes of Gossip Girl, or The Strangers.
Elizabeth Hasselback from The View makes me angry. Not because her opinions are different from mine. But because she makes things up, then gets upset when people call her a liar. Can you imagine what she'd do if I went up to her and said, "Barack Obama travels everywhere by Pegasus, and rainbows fall from his lips when he speaks, and John McCain has a small imp that lives in his left eardrum that leaps out to feast upon blind kittens when the moon is full!". First, she'd call security. Then, she'd call me a liar. And the bullshit she spewed today in the (literally, I was channel-surfing) thirty seconds of The View that I watched, was on par. I mean, there are complaints to be made against Obama that are valid. I am fine with that. But claiming he's the direct descendant of Hitler and that he made Britney go crazy and green-lit Beverly Hills Chihuahua is a bit much, isn't it, Elizabeth?
House had good points and bad points SPOILERS BELOW FOR THE EPISODE
Good Points
* Wilson getting back into the swing of things (especially that brilliant scene in his office about Debbie).
* The continued presence of the private detective, who is a scruffy delight.
* Finally finding out where Cuddy's been.
* That moment where House realizes Thirteen was sleeping with the patient, and does that Orgasm-Eye-Roll-Thing that I actually giggle at, out loud.
* Chase and Foreman talking about how boring Foreman is (which is... true. I never thought of that before.)
* The moment at the end, when Cuddy tells him she's adopting, and House has an emotion. I can't even say WHAT emotion, but it's HOUSE, and he's EMOTING ALL OVER THE PLACE. ALMOST LIKE A REAL PERSON. I don't know why that needed cap locks, but it totally did. I like that you can tell he's feeling very strongly, but you have no idea what particular emotion it is. Maybe House doesn't know either. He's an enigma. A sexy, limping enigma.
Bad Points
* A lack of Kutner.
* A lack of Taub.
* The plot focusing on Thirteen, who will NOT become like Amber and worm her way into my bitter little heart. I will not become like Cameron and only feel sympathy for dying characters. You can't make me. Anyway, I find Thirteen annoying, overall. Dying doesn't make her any more interesting. Cuddy should have fired her ass.
* The case bored me. She had what? She's not dying. That's all I know.
* Thinking back, everything I remember revolves around House, Wilson, and the detective. I know there was all the girl scenes, and that Thirteen is spiraling, but I just don't care. House has done it a dozen times before, and it's funnier and more dramatic. Giving yourself an IV drip? Dude ELECTROCUTED HIMSELF. Having sex with strangers? House hires HOOKERS. Call when you've moved up to the big leagues, Kid, and you're snorting children's aspirin off a dead hooker's back. Wait... don't call me. I'll be with House. Call Foreman.
And next week? Cuddy and House totally kiss. I'm betting money. Imaginary money, which is all I have, but... it has currency in my heart.
Behold, frog leg pizza. With anchovy sorbet. It's called "The Hopper." A guy ordered this on a first date, I would marry him.
What else? I have another disc of Angel to watch (season five, which I only fitfully remember, because my crazy former roommate had a charming habit of turning off the TV while I was watching it, or ejecting the disc and putting on Sex & The City, and after a while I'd just lose the will to fight, and return my Netflix unwatched, which always makes me feel sad), and at some point I'll post something about how deeply I came to love Wesley, and how I STILL miss Doyle, and how big Angel's forehead is. It's large.
I'm writing another article for my lovely friend Kay Jay's magazine.
I called schools for info on their substitute teaching programs. The pay is remarkable (well, considering I have no money, all money is remarkable).
Did I tell you how much I hate eBay? I sold my guitar, and 175 DVDs, and came out with less than $400. CRITERION COLLECTION DVDS. I AM SADDENED.
My kick-ass cousin Jay sent me a link to this comic's website:
and my computer got hosed down with Tab. But it was worth it.
My stomach hurts. Stupid stomach.
- LV
The Bee Interview went well. There weren't any bees, as it was too cold, and I spent a chunk of the day transcribing the near-hour long interview from audio to print. Now I just have to write the article. Easy, right? Except I'm sleepy and a little bit under the weather, and my big desire right now is to curl up in the fetal position (my personal favorite) and watch Angel reruns, and sulk over the fact that Netflix has not yet sent me my episodes of Gossip Girl, or The Strangers.
Elizabeth Hasselback from The View makes me angry. Not because her opinions are different from mine. But because she makes things up, then gets upset when people call her a liar. Can you imagine what she'd do if I went up to her and said, "Barack Obama travels everywhere by Pegasus, and rainbows fall from his lips when he speaks, and John McCain has a small imp that lives in his left eardrum that leaps out to feast upon blind kittens when the moon is full!". First, she'd call security. Then, she'd call me a liar. And the bullshit she spewed today in the (literally, I was channel-surfing) thirty seconds of The View that I watched, was on par. I mean, there are complaints to be made against Obama that are valid. I am fine with that. But claiming he's the direct descendant of Hitler and that he made Britney go crazy and green-lit Beverly Hills Chihuahua is a bit much, isn't it, Elizabeth?
House had good points and bad points SPOILERS BELOW FOR THE EPISODE
Good Points
* Wilson getting back into the swing of things (especially that brilliant scene in his office about Debbie).
* The continued presence of the private detective, who is a scruffy delight.
* Finally finding out where Cuddy's been.
* That moment where House realizes Thirteen was sleeping with the patient, and does that Orgasm-Eye-Roll-Thing that I actually giggle at, out loud.
* Chase and Foreman talking about how boring Foreman is (which is... true. I never thought of that before.)
* The moment at the end, when Cuddy tells him she's adopting, and House has an emotion. I can't even say WHAT emotion, but it's HOUSE, and he's EMOTING ALL OVER THE PLACE. ALMOST LIKE A REAL PERSON. I don't know why that needed cap locks, but it totally did. I like that you can tell he's feeling very strongly, but you have no idea what particular emotion it is. Maybe House doesn't know either. He's an enigma. A sexy, limping enigma.
Bad Points
* A lack of Kutner.
* A lack of Taub.
* The plot focusing on Thirteen, who will NOT become like Amber and worm her way into my bitter little heart. I will not become like Cameron and only feel sympathy for dying characters. You can't make me. Anyway, I find Thirteen annoying, overall. Dying doesn't make her any more interesting. Cuddy should have fired her ass.
* The case bored me. She had what? She's not dying. That's all I know.
* Thinking back, everything I remember revolves around House, Wilson, and the detective. I know there was all the girl scenes, and that Thirteen is spiraling, but I just don't care. House has done it a dozen times before, and it's funnier and more dramatic. Giving yourself an IV drip? Dude ELECTROCUTED HIMSELF. Having sex with strangers? House hires HOOKERS. Call when you've moved up to the big leagues, Kid, and you're snorting children's aspirin off a dead hooker's back. Wait... don't call me. I'll be with House. Call Foreman.
And next week? Cuddy and House totally kiss. I'm betting money. Imaginary money, which is all I have, but... it has currency in my heart.
Behold, frog leg pizza. With anchovy sorbet. It's called "The Hopper." A guy ordered this on a first date, I would marry him.
What else? I have another disc of Angel to watch (season five, which I only fitfully remember, because my crazy former roommate had a charming habit of turning off the TV while I was watching it, or ejecting the disc and putting on Sex & The City, and after a while I'd just lose the will to fight, and return my Netflix unwatched, which always makes me feel sad), and at some point I'll post something about how deeply I came to love Wesley, and how I STILL miss Doyle, and how big Angel's forehead is. It's large.
I'm writing another article for my lovely friend Kay Jay's magazine.
I called schools for info on their substitute teaching programs. The pay is remarkable (well, considering I have no money, all money is remarkable).
Did I tell you how much I hate eBay? I sold my guitar, and 175 DVDs, and came out with less than $400. CRITERION COLLECTION DVDS. I AM SADDENED.
My kick-ass cousin Jay sent me a link to this comic's website:
and my computer got hosed down with Tab. But it was worth it.
My stomach hurts. Stupid stomach.
- LV
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