ase

Today I emailed in sick, took several naps, and called a doctor. I watched TV and took my temperature umpteen times, making my temperature bounce a degree or so by drinking cold gatorade or hot tea. At no point was it near my norm, and sometimes I got it as high as three degrees off. Yay scorching hot tea! Eventually my landlord appeared, as did another crop of potential roommates. I snuck out to the grocery store, and grabbed takeout on the way home. If I never see canned chicken soup again it will not be too soon. Now I'm wide awake, but pretty sure I need to at least try to go to work tomorrow.

Irony points: the only new-to-me DVDs in the house are House S3. So I sniffled my way through multiple episodes of weird infections, cardiac arrest, multiple organ failure, genetic disease, and emitting blood from every orifice imaginable. Then I watched Terminator: the Sarah Connor Chronicles (the show would get my slavish devotion if it didn't feature Summer Glau playing another crazy chick) for my weekly explosives quotient. Sadly, I tried and failed to read anything more weighty than blogs today, even the YA fantasy novel that's been kicking around my room for weeks. I guess that's why they call it sick.

I will not liveblog House. I will not - Robert Sean Leonard has the "subtle acting" gene, doesn't he?

Last week started with me thawing deli-sliced corned beef instead of two pounds of ham shank. I spent the entire week wondering why I was starving, then I noticed I'd been skipping dinner in favor of anything but rather than eat any more not-ham.

This week I'm grooving on pasta with meat sauce and beef stew. Suddenly, finishing lunch and dinner is much more appealing.

The House-Amber tug-of-Wilson will never, never get old.

Weekend good. Crowded House concert Friday night with norabombay, then potlatch party Saturday night. The concert was enlivened by me doing some calorie math and inhaling tsebhi doro on injera right before the opener started - see also "corned beef situation" - and tried not to remix the opening act with Richard Shindell ("tell your boyfriend he's lucky" / "and are you-ou happy now?"). Nice thing about old people concerts: they start early and end before midnight. Yeah, I'm never going to make it to the under-30's clubbing scene. Sunday was shopping-and-cooking day. I put too much pepper in the beef stew and discovered that yeah, 20 minutes is about as long as you want to simmer the pasta sauce, but such are the sacrifices we make to have decent meals.

The weather seems to be figuring out that it's really spring, and it's really okay to be 70 degrees more than one day at a time. Even I'm ready for this, and I think 60 degrees is the best temperature ever.

House. House, if you were black, female or really, really gay, you'd never be able to pull these stunts. Though the casual sexual harassment thing you do to Cuddy could not be more objectionable if you tried.

Today I used my thermo-fu to program the thermocycler 90% of the lab doesn't know how to use. (One of the other 10% deserves cookies.) So I am reasonably certain I won't have to repeat the six eight-strips in that thermocycler for mechanical error. My own stupidity is another question entirely.

Finished The Sharing Knife: Passage Friday, then left at work. Discussion post sometime tomorrow.

Allison Cameron, have you grown a spine since S1? Go you, girl!

I'm looking at pics of someone's drive down the Skyline drive and Blue Ridge area, and oh, can it be car-and-travel time now please? I have Blacksburg crash space! An August trip is totally feasible, gas prices or not! It's just three months from now, sadness. Until then: work! And... more work! And in July... three and 3/4ths days in Boston!

I lead such a thrilling life. But at least my thrilling wonder stories don't land me in Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital.