the afflicted

A holiday with the flu is no holiday at all.

For the past few days I've been popping Dayquils and Tylenol Cold pills like candy (I could really go for some Jelly Bellies, come to think of it). I draft this blog on my phone as I lie in bed with the comforter pulled up to my chin, desperately wishing that my parents had wireless internet. I could then at least enjoy my Hulu queue while resting up in bed. Those who are shackled by ethernet cords may relate.

So my parents' house back East is where I am spending the holidays, as I suspect many Angelenos might. My days thus far have included sneezing and blubbering about, and cancelling various plans due to the pesky nature of this influenza. But I was able to catch up on a bit of television.
Top Chef: I have a new favorite character; his name is Fabio. The Italian accent and culturally infused self-deprecation provides adorable yet lighthearted moments of amusement.
Also ended up watching two hours of Dateline about two college girls whose identities were mistaken. Riveting stuff.
Diners, drive-ins and dives: quite possibly the most delectable show I enjoy on the Food Network. That Guy has a sweet job. There should be a World List of Sweet Jobs and How To Go About Getting Them.

Some of my initiatives for 2009:
1. Meet Diego Luna.
2. Find an intercambio whom looks like Diego Luna.
3. Get some writing done.
4. Get the hell out of credit card debt.
5. Make a pie from scratch.
6. Finish up 2008's remaining projects.
7. Take the Metro more. Drive less.
8. Keep more dark chocolate handy.

Waiting Games.

I somehow rise dark and early at 4:29 am, one minute before my alarm
goes off. I try not to think about the concept of cheating myself out of one more minute of sleep. I turn and pull up my comforter instead, closing my eyes.
The air is cool but still.

After a steely-speeding ride on the SuperShuttle, I check one bag for
fifteen bucks and wait for my rebooked flight, which is delayed (and
the only one available) to the city of brotherly love.
I wait at the gate after finding a seat. It has somehow gotten
progressively colder inside the airport as the morning wears on.
Bored, but mainly tired out of my mind, I spot a guy who looks a
little like Mark Wahlberg. He dons a green duffel bag and one of
those plaid wool jackets. Ugh. No guy should ever wear wool plaid
jackets. They repel me. And so do sweatpants with tapered legs. Any
pants with tapered legs; the damage is done. This means you, guy sitting across the way with the 24 hour fitness tee shirt on.
It was a mess - the flight was delayed two hours, overbooked, and they were making each passenger with a carry-on bag place their bag in the carry-on box display to be certain that it met airline space requirements. The line moved slower still; we stopped on the portable walkway from the gate to the plane - someone had gotten sick while boarding and the crew was now cleaning it up. I spotted Wanda Sykes on our flight - first class, of course.

I think I still have the flu.

That One Whom Kills Crullers. And Getting A Bit Nuts Over Here.

I feel diabetic today. I don't know what feeling diabetic truly entails, but I feel guilty, obese, and I have a headache. Yes, the return of the beached whale - onset of the holidays - or..something like that. Maybe the world collectively gets freaked out at the thought of the end of an entire YEAR OF LIFE that they retreat in a consuming panic and reach for comfort food for the better part of two months. (Isn't Halloween just the gateway holiday?)
Yesterday's buffet of delicious Indian food at lunch and after having no breakfast I had a lunch and a half and then some.

I just polished off an American bagel-sized French cruller doughnut. Just put it away.

Last night after work on the way to a mixer I really wanted a churro. So I had a churro. Dinner at home was skipped, opted for a tea with lemon and honey instead.
Oh yeah in the afternoon there were Jelly Belly beans and Mrs. Fields' nibbler cookies. The heartbreaker was that THE CHURRO WASN'T EVEN GOOD.

With the holiday hoopla anticipation building, I'm getting a bit nuts over here.

Yes, I am a bit freaked out that I will be freezing my arse off in the suburbs of Philly while I visit my family back East (UNDENIABLY the best decision I've made in awhile - long overdue time devoted to getting THE HELL OUT of town). But I'm working every day up until I fly out (vacation days are too valuable too waste).

OACUN, Dr. Suresh needs to learn how to FIGHT! It's just pathetic. I could fight better than whatever we've seen from him this season. And I'm a hulking 5'3" figure.

Also - now that I've only missed last week's episode of Heroes, I'm completely lost - and thus the flaws of not having self-contained episodes backfires. It's as if we were all at the same bar talking, but it was just so crowded and loud that only half the circle heard what a couple people were saying. So the other half just nodded on, and when they were able to hear the rest of the conversation continue, they have no idea what they were talking about. Have things really changed all that much? Everyone's running around, trying to catch Sylar. Yup, still Sylar. Details a bit muffled, but we could pull the gist of it.

Tomorrow's Friday, right? Well it feels like it should be.

COTW [crush-of-the-week]

Guys in the jeans-and-blazer jackets. Simple and delicious.

I'm a little tired.

I've begun nodding off at night- with the lamp still on and the contacts in. I've been so lethargic that I'm sure I've packed on five pounds in the past six days, physically feeling myself expand as I sit at my computer, motionless but for my eyes,fingers and wrist flicking over the mousepad. I'm so tired that I have not filled out the one paged form since I can't take the thought of the exerting task of writing old school - handwriting, ink to paper. Didn't have enough energy to hold up a pen. Quite tragic.
It has been four days.

At ease, soldier.

What a gloriously deliciously feeling it is to have family in town. A piece of home, of who you are, comfort, love, and for the first time in what feels like ages, I felt relaxed. Having a bit lighter of a load to bear when life decides to drop some knowledge on you is something I've always taken for granted before finishing school.

As if all these months and years of independence and fighting (for everything, it seems) have somehow left me a much more guarded person, I've realized. Is it a sign of defeat that I've accepted that everyone in SoCal is flaky and who cares at the end of the day, anyway? I could always pretend that it's something I didn't really want, it wasn't that important to me, so I can immediately lighten any possible disappointment anyone could possibly drop on me.
I feel that I have to have my guard up, so much second nature that it took just a short while of time with family to distinguish it. Protectiveness, I know, the kind of thing I've been grasping so tightly onto while setting to accomplish everything else.