Virus, With a Little Gore(y)

You knew this would be coming...of course the Missus has it now, too.

In an effort to make sure I was back up to 100%, I sadly forfeit tickets to last night's Henry Rollins/Janeane Garofalo/Marc Maron show (sorry again, Sean) because I was still a little queasy and didn't think travelling via the city's sterling rail and subway systems would do a lot for my health, plus I doubted my ability to live without the comforts of a lovely bathroom for very long.

Good thing, because she ALSO threw up in her car, had a 100+ fever, and being pregnant, is even more limited in her choice of remedies than I was. So I spent yesterday doing my damnedest to nurse her as well as myself.

Elsewhere, I was sent this cool bit of movie news regarding an adapation of Edward Gorey's The Doubtful Guest. The Gashlycrumb Tinies is one of the most wickedly delightful (how Jeffrey Lyons of me) books I've ever come across, and used to envy my friend Steve who had a poster illustrating the entire book. Done correctly, this could be fantastic. If you've never seen or read any of Gorey's picture books it's not too late to correct - go to your nearest bookstore or library and check something, anything out.

In the meantime, enjoy the pic below (from The Gashlycrumb Tinies):

R.I.P.

Johnny Hart, creator of B.C. and co-creator of The Wizard of Id, died on Saturday while working on his latest strip.

My mother often tells the story of how, when I was a kid, I was such a voracious read that if the paper hadn't arrived by the time I woke up for breakfast I would read the backs of cereal boxes. But if the paper came, it was immediately grabbed and turned to the comics. B.C. may not have been my absolute favorite strip, but it was up there, and one I never missed reading. Some comics leave a lasting image in your mind whenever you think about it. Garfield laying in his bed with Jim looking over him. Dagwood always at the fridge. The comic below summarizes the image I keep in my head when I recall B.C.

Rest in peace, Johnny Hart.

Virus

Today is my first post since last Wednesday. Today is also the first day I've been without vomiting, diarrhea, or a high fever since, well, last Wednesday. Some virus got the drop on me, whether it was on the filled-to-capacity plane or the baggage terminal at JFK or possibly even earlier in Tampa. All I know is I had to leave work early Thursday due to a splitting headache and some rumbling in my stomach. Halfway home I pulled over to begin what would be a series of lengthy vomit sessions that culminated in passing out in my downstairs bathroom, hallucinations stemming from the high fever, two separate trips to the Urgent Care Center, and a drop in weight of over 10 pounds from being unable to keep anything - solid, liquid, gas - from staying in my body for longer than 20 minutes.

I won't even begin to describe the "collecting of samples" that were mandated to rule out food poisoning and to make sure the antibiotics were taking effect. Let's just say I was thankful for the abundance of rubber gloves that were provided.

Easter was spent completely alone, wrapped in blankets and eating soup and toast while the Missus worked and then went to her parents to celebrate. Movies and reading were out - anything requiring that much attention tended to make me nauseous, which left nothing but mind-numbing television interspersed with brief bouts of sleep. Instead I focused on listening to quiet music and audio commentaries on DVD with the picture turned off.

Normally I would work from home after all this, but I had to be in the office to help assist with some tech stuff for a meeting at 1:00 PM - I imagine that at the meeting's conclusion I'll be heading straight back home, since it's only been 3 hours but I'm already sweating, shaking and feeling like wet dog that's been kicked in the ribs.

Just in case it was that apparent in the preceding paragraphs: BEING SICK SUCKS HARD.

Home

It feels so good to be home, despite being 40 degrees outside and arriving home in shorts and sandals (the shirt is implied). It was either sweat like a wild boar in Tampa or freeze a little up here in New York. Well, it turned out more like "freeze a lot while waiting outside for the car service to pick you up, looking like a jackass while everyone else was smart enough to bring a sweater, or at the very least wear some long pants you moron."

The trip was what it was; I'm putting the frustration of the last 3 days behind me so I can fully focus my powers on the normal everyday frustration I face here. Take the pain you know versus the pain you don't and all that.

Was watching TIDELAND on the plane, but kept being drawn to Kevin Bacon dancing on a re-run of FOOTLOOSE playing on VH1 Classics. I tell you, the scene where he plays chicken on the tractors thrills me like an 8 year old girl. And the scene when he dances has got to be one of the most surreal moments in movie history. Every time I watch it I can understand why the Missus was so infatuated with it as a kid. TIDELAND was put on hold so I can finish watching.

C'mon...you know you loved it, too.

Time

This has become my new Mission Statement.

Got about 9 hours of sleep last night - a good start. Unfortunately, Dilbert's Theorem dictates that a single 8 hour meeting is actually the equivalent of 16 human hours, so it looks like I'm still 7 hours behind. Luckily tomorrow only goes until 3:00 PM, and then it's back to the airport for a blissful trip back to New York. I packed 4 movies for the trip, so since I finished my book last night I'll either be watching CURSE OF THE GOLDEN FLOWER or TIDELAND for the trip back home. I ususally like travelling - between the airports and the flights and the nights back at the hotel without the Missus I can catch up on some reading and flicks, but this trip has been an absolute bear to get through. Looking foreard to the trusty ol' desk back at HQ.

Jusr re-read the last paragraph, and am slightly fearful of all the numbers in there. Omen perhaps? Spooky spooky...