(no subject)
Nov. 23rd, 2004 06:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cleolindaSo. Finally called Dr. B2's office about my test results. No thyroid problems, but my blood sugar is elevated. No word yet about the ultrasound/uterine ick.
Went to see Dr. A (general doctor) today--he managed to fit me in, but it meant that I didn't get to go to class. Woe. Of course, by the time I got to see him, he was all like, "Thank you for completely wasting my time. You're almost well and there's nothing I can do for you." (I told you he was cranky.) So basically, get plenty of rest, but not so much rest that all my muscles atrophy; don't eat much, but eat something; and drink lots of fluids, but not straight water, but not too much soda, either. Let's hear it for Dr. A (*golf clap*).
It's raining. And not men, either.
So Mom and I picked up a copy of Prisoner of Azkaban on the way home. At least, that's how it started out. It ended up with a two-store trek through Best Buy and Williams-Sonoma, wherein we got a lot of Sister Girl Christmas-shopping done. Also, we ended up doing some shopping online at Amazon and Alivan's this morning (again: a lot of Sister Girl), so Sister Girl can just get out of her current snit, or I know some starving children in Buchanesiapan who would enjoy some handcrafted Harry Potter merchandise.
(Sister Girl's current snit is that we watched POA without her--I saw it in the theater and neither Mom nor SG has seen it at all; they both want me around to ask questions, as SG has only recently started reading the books and Mom has no clue at all, and we tried to wake SG up [this is about 2 in the afternoon, mind you], and we knocked on the door and called to her and she didn't answer. Yesterday, I apparently knocked on her door "too loudly," and so she yelled at me and pulled the covers back over her head and didn't go to class just for spite, it seems. So today we were like, "Fine. Whatever." And we went and watched it by ourselves--well, we got as far as the Time-Turner before George got home. And now Sister Girl is mad. Uh-huh.)
So we're in Best Buy, and we want King Arthur. I am pretty sure we will be a two-copy-owning household of King Arthur. I am not proud of this, but what're you gonna do. The sales guy, unfortunately, says that it's not coming out until December 21, which is madness. Never mind that my mother broaches the subject by saying, "Is that movie out?" I mean, now that I think about it, we always have the same conversation. Switch out the names and/or specific details, and this is it:
"Is that movie out?"
"That movie."
"You know, the movie about that guy?"
"That guy."
"YOU KNOW, WE SAW IT!"
"We own Hidalgo."
"NOT THAT ONE! And not Troy, either--"
"Mom, that's not about 'a guy.' That's about 'a lot of guys'."
"I know--hey, when is that coming out?"
"Not until February or something."
"WHY WOULD THEY DO THAT??"
"Mom, I don't know..."
"I know you don't know, it's not something you can control. But still, that's ridiculous. Anyway, that movie about that guy. The title, it's one word--not Troy--"
"King Arthur."
"YES!"
"Mom, that's two words."
"I know."
So then she thinks of another movie, one that hasn't come out in the theater yet, but of course she doesn't know the title--I know the movie titles and Mom knows the movies, and we can't! ever! quite! seem! to put it together. She saw it while flipping through the new Premiere I just got, which I haven't read. ("Well, when we get to Best Buy--" "IT'S NOT AT BEST BUY, I SAID IT HASN'T COME OUT YET, YOU SILLY--" "I KNOW IT'S NOT AT BEST BUY, YOU MORON, BUT THE MAGAZINE YOU SAW IT IN IS!" "Oh." I won't even drag you through the conversation about where in the store the magazine would be, but it involved a lot of "THE CHECKOUT STAND!" "THE CHECKOUT STAND??" "THE CHECKOUT STAND!!" back-and-forth. And then they don't have the right issue at the checkout stand. I have to tell you, we're cracking up all through this, so it's not like we hate each other.) Her description of the mystery movie: "It's some British movie! You know! With the skirts all trailing along on the ground! YOU KNOW! It comes out, like, this month! YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS! COME ON! It's got some name, like, Something on the Something. You were talking about wanting to see it!" And so I start throwing out names of things I know I want to see, like the Lemony Snicket movie and Alexander and Phantom of the Opera and what-have-you, because as the King Arthur example illustrates, just because she says the movie conforms to certain criteria does not mean it actually does. And then she utters a sentence that I am pretty sure will go down in family infamy from this day forth: "Something on the Something! You know, like, Buford on the Savoy or something."
I'm sorry, I just put my head back and howled at that point. We're in the Summit parking lot and I'm just collapsed against the car door crying. I haven't laughed that hard in months. We'd be walking through Best Buy after that and every five minutes I'd just mutter "Buford! Buford on the--!" and start crying again, and then she'd start laughing at me laughing, and we'd be off again. The salespeople thought we were insane. I'm actually kind of tearing up right now. My face is starting to hurt just thinking about it. And you know what the best part is? I flipped through the magazine, and based on an interview and a two-page ad I saw, I have a horrible feeling she's talking about... The Merchant of Venice.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch: Mom started cooking for Thanksgiving--the four-layer chocolate dessert (I wish it had a less cumbersome name, but it doesn't) and potato salad (we're weird, I know), so on and so forth. Tomorrow is when the heavy-duty dishes come out. So before we fired up the DVD, I sat at the kitchen table and tried to eat while she cooked. I'm up to saltines and cheese now. And before you start going all OMGWTFCHEESE on me, it wasn't real cheese, it was two Kraft singles. Look. I've eaten this stuff all my life. I carried a cheese sandwich made with nothing but bread and this godforsaken wrapper-cheese to school every day of my life for something like eight years, and I liked it. The day I can't eat this stuff is the day you're just going to have to put me down, because I'll be that far gone. And I haven't had any problems with it today, besides feeling stuffed like an overfed python, which is just sad, but that's what you get when you can hardly eat for four days.
So. Cheese.
(Seriously, I don't know how I'm going to eat anything else. I'm kind of scared now. Two slices of cheese and I'm done. Kind of queasy-full, even.)
Anyway: cooking. We got Sister Girl a pasta-maker and I can't even remember what all else. (I think the tart pan was for Mom, for immediate use. She wants to make some chocolate-pecan tart thing.) Among the things Sister Girl wants for Christmas are these Charlie Trotter books. I have no idea who Charlie Trotter is, but I keep imagining Charlie from Lost with, like, a cooking show and cookbooks and what-all, only everything he cooks is invisible. Surprisingly, he still sells lots of books. Go figure.
I had more I was going to tell you, but I'm getting woozy again. Time for a lie-down--on the sheets I just washed and new pillows, too. Whee!
ETA: OMG I JUST REMEMBERED WHAT ELSE I WANTED TO TELL YOU: They have torn down the old town hall and they're building a new apartment complex there, la-di-da. And they're calling the neighborhood South Homewood, or... SoHo. Which is so very, very precious (and even worse, we already have a "Hollywood" neighborhood and a "Mayfair" neighborhood, and the entire stinking city is named after one already in England. Anyway.) The complex is going to have its own little bank and post office and coffee shop and whatever. You know what the name of the complex is going to be? "Phat Flats." No, really. NO, REALLY. I just... I can't... I don't have enough "whatever" for this.
Oh, and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
vladimirsever has seen Alexander. Go read!
Went to see Dr. A (general doctor) today--he managed to fit me in, but it meant that I didn't get to go to class. Woe. Of course, by the time I got to see him, he was all like, "Thank you for completely wasting my time. You're almost well and there's nothing I can do for you." (I told you he was cranky.) So basically, get plenty of rest, but not so much rest that all my muscles atrophy; don't eat much, but eat something; and drink lots of fluids, but not straight water, but not too much soda, either. Let's hear it for Dr. A (*golf clap*).
It's raining. And not men, either.
So Mom and I picked up a copy of Prisoner of Azkaban on the way home. At least, that's how it started out. It ended up with a two-store trek through Best Buy and Williams-Sonoma, wherein we got a lot of Sister Girl Christmas-shopping done. Also, we ended up doing some shopping online at Amazon and Alivan's this morning (again: a lot of Sister Girl), so Sister Girl can just get out of her current snit, or I know some starving children in Buchanesiapan who would enjoy some handcrafted Harry Potter merchandise.
(Sister Girl's current snit is that we watched POA without her--I saw it in the theater and neither Mom nor SG has seen it at all; they both want me around to ask questions, as SG has only recently started reading the books and Mom has no clue at all, and we tried to wake SG up [this is about 2 in the afternoon, mind you], and we knocked on the door and called to her and she didn't answer. Yesterday, I apparently knocked on her door "too loudly," and so she yelled at me and pulled the covers back over her head and didn't go to class just for spite, it seems. So today we were like, "Fine. Whatever." And we went and watched it by ourselves--well, we got as far as the Time-Turner before George got home. And now Sister Girl is mad. Uh-huh.)
So we're in Best Buy, and we want King Arthur. I am pretty sure we will be a two-copy-owning household of King Arthur. I am not proud of this, but what're you gonna do. The sales guy, unfortunately, says that it's not coming out until December 21, which is madness. Never mind that my mother broaches the subject by saying, "Is that movie out?" I mean, now that I think about it, we always have the same conversation. Switch out the names and/or specific details, and this is it:
"Is that movie out?"
"That movie."
"You know, the movie about that guy?"
"That guy."
"YOU KNOW, WE SAW IT!"
"We own Hidalgo."
"NOT THAT ONE! And not Troy, either--"
"Mom, that's not about 'a guy.' That's about 'a lot of guys'."
"I know--hey, when is that coming out?"
"Not until February or something."
"WHY WOULD THEY DO THAT??"
"Mom, I don't know..."
"I know you don't know, it's not something you can control. But still, that's ridiculous. Anyway, that movie about that guy. The title, it's one word--not Troy--"
"King Arthur."
"YES!"
"Mom, that's two words."
"I know."
So then she thinks of another movie, one that hasn't come out in the theater yet, but of course she doesn't know the title--I know the movie titles and Mom knows the movies, and we can't! ever! quite! seem! to put it together. She saw it while flipping through the new Premiere I just got, which I haven't read. ("Well, when we get to Best Buy--" "IT'S NOT AT BEST BUY, I SAID IT HASN'T COME OUT YET, YOU SILLY--" "I KNOW IT'S NOT AT BEST BUY, YOU MORON, BUT THE MAGAZINE YOU SAW IT IN IS!" "Oh." I won't even drag you through the conversation about where in the store the magazine would be, but it involved a lot of "THE CHECKOUT STAND!" "THE CHECKOUT STAND??" "THE CHECKOUT STAND!!" back-and-forth. And then they don't have the right issue at the checkout stand. I have to tell you, we're cracking up all through this, so it's not like we hate each other.) Her description of the mystery movie: "It's some British movie! You know! With the skirts all trailing along on the ground! YOU KNOW! It comes out, like, this month! YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS! COME ON! It's got some name, like, Something on the Something. You were talking about wanting to see it!" And so I start throwing out names of things I know I want to see, like the Lemony Snicket movie and Alexander and Phantom of the Opera and what-have-you, because as the King Arthur example illustrates, just because she says the movie conforms to certain criteria does not mean it actually does. And then she utters a sentence that I am pretty sure will go down in family infamy from this day forth: "Something on the Something! You know, like, Buford on the Savoy or something."
I'm sorry, I just put my head back and howled at that point. We're in the Summit parking lot and I'm just collapsed against the car door crying. I haven't laughed that hard in months. We'd be walking through Best Buy after that and every five minutes I'd just mutter "Buford! Buford on the--!" and start crying again, and then she'd start laughing at me laughing, and we'd be off again. The salespeople thought we were insane. I'm actually kind of tearing up right now. My face is starting to hurt just thinking about it. And you know what the best part is? I flipped through the magazine, and based on an interview and a two-page ad I saw, I have a horrible feeling she's talking about... The Merchant of Venice.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch: Mom started cooking for Thanksgiving--the four-layer chocolate dessert (I wish it had a less cumbersome name, but it doesn't) and potato salad (we're weird, I know), so on and so forth. Tomorrow is when the heavy-duty dishes come out. So before we fired up the DVD, I sat at the kitchen table and tried to eat while she cooked. I'm up to saltines and cheese now. And before you start going all OMGWTFCHEESE on me, it wasn't real cheese, it was two Kraft singles. Look. I've eaten this stuff all my life. I carried a cheese sandwich made with nothing but bread and this godforsaken wrapper-cheese to school every day of my life for something like eight years, and I liked it. The day I can't eat this stuff is the day you're just going to have to put me down, because I'll be that far gone. And I haven't had any problems with it today, besides feeling stuffed like an overfed python, which is just sad, but that's what you get when you can hardly eat for four days.
So. Cheese.
(Seriously, I don't know how I'm going to eat anything else. I'm kind of scared now. Two slices of cheese and I'm done. Kind of queasy-full, even.)
Anyway: cooking. We got Sister Girl a pasta-maker and I can't even remember what all else. (I think the tart pan was for Mom, for immediate use. She wants to make some chocolate-pecan tart thing.) Among the things Sister Girl wants for Christmas are these Charlie Trotter books. I have no idea who Charlie Trotter is, but I keep imagining Charlie from Lost with, like, a cooking show and cookbooks and what-all, only everything he cooks is invisible. Surprisingly, he still sells lots of books. Go figure.
I had more I was going to tell you, but I'm getting woozy again. Time for a lie-down--on the sheets I just washed and new pillows, too. Whee!
ETA: OMG I JUST REMEMBERED WHAT ELSE I WANTED TO TELL YOU: They have torn down the old town hall and they're building a new apartment complex there, la-di-da. And they're calling the neighborhood South Homewood, or... SoHo. Which is so very, very precious (and even worse, we already have a "Hollywood" neighborhood and a "Mayfair" neighborhood, and the entire stinking city is named after one already in England. Anyway.) The complex is going to have its own little bank and post office and coffee shop and whatever. You know what the name of the complex is going to be? "Phat Flats." No, really. NO, REALLY. I just... I can't... I don't have enough "whatever" for this.
Oh, and
vladimirsever has seen Alexander. Go read!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 04:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 04:26 pm (UTC)Mom(when asked to clarify): You know, it's that movie with that fellow.
She was talking about Luke and Owen Wilson and some movie in which one of them happened to have a starring role.
no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 04:30 pm (UTC)Anyway, I'm super psyched about Azkaban, because that film absolutely kicked, yo. And I'm leaving to buy it now, actually. And U2's How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb, because U2 kicks too!
And your family rocks. I'm laughing hard myself, because I'm sitting here going "OMG my mom and I do that stupid movie thing TOO," and yeah, it's my mom who can't name anything either. So... funny...
no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 04:37 pm (UTC).. Phat flats? .. ..
He made Alexander sound good!
no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 04:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2004-11-23 04:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 04:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 04:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2004-11-23 04:44 pm (UTC)Does Sister Girl not understand the concept of a DVD? As in, you can watch it as many times as you want. Ooooh, technology. And I have no idea who Charlie Trotter is, but now I will forever think of him as Charlie from Lost (who else is mad it's not on this week?! Raise your hands, y'all).
Ahh, God, I love Thanksgiving. I really wish my mom would start cooking right now, but she's too busy (or something to that effect, I'm sure) after hauling my sisters around all day, dealing with their school, not getting home until after four o'clock, etc. I am actually somewhat sad that since I have to work tomorrow, I won't be included in the trip to the grocery store to buy all our provisions for Thursday. (Can you say, "Five different desserts?" Mmmm.)
They just opened a Williams-Sonoma store at our mall. I was there just the other night; it's pretty cool although various over-priced cooking dishes isn't really my personal idea of awesome Christmas presents. Somehow, though, it just clicks perfectly with the picture of Sister Girl I have in my head (i.e., sitting on your bed reading magazines and whistling while you plead with her to get out of your room, singing "Dude Looks Like A Lady" at two AM or whenever that was, etc).
Goddammit, it's not raining men here, either. That's really... really...
*is going now*
no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 04:46 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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From:Buford on the...?
Date: 2004-11-23 04:48 pm (UTC)Urgh. I theenk I have done myself wrong. All we had to eat that was proteinlike was a frozen quiche. Yeah, really intelligent there, E. My stomach is now going OMGWTFNOTBBQ it's got FAT in it you STUPID HOR.
Urgh.
I wish you luck on the tests.
no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 04:48 pm (UTC)We've NoHo
(North Hollywood)
and WeHo
(West Hollywood - a very rainbow section of town!!)
Get some rest!
no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 04:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 05:02 pm (UTC)My mother is like that too, just not to such an extreme. Ah, mothers.
no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 05:03 pm (UTC)I'm flying home for Thanksgiving tomorrow. Maybe mom will take me shopping in B'ham! I can collapse laughing in the Barnes & Noble parking lot in your honor.
no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 05:06 pm (UTC)you are most definetly the shiznit.
...and I mean that in the best possible way.
no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 05:15 pm (UTC)And I had a similar conversation right after I read your blog - with my fiance', about his favorite pair of pants. I also recapped it, but I'm not so much with Teh Funneh as you are.
Being from Podunk, Oklahoma, I really have no stories to share about our parts of town. The name of the town is 'dine' spelled backwards, tho. (Longer story than I care to get into.)
Good to hear you're getting better. :-) <3
no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 08:18 pm (UTC)Oh, the movie thing? That's music at my house.
"Who sings that one song?"
"What one song?"
"The *hums a little tune that sounds nothing like the song she wants to describe* is that Madonna?"
no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 05:25 pm (UTC)ms. swan "i want a movie"
video clerk "what movie?"
MS "you know, the one with the man"
VC "which man?"
MS "the one who look-a like a man. he look-a like a man, yeah."
VC "oh, so not leonardo dicaprio, then"
and so on
no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 05:26 pm (UTC)I don't guess when you're feeling better you'd print up your mom's four-layer chocolate dessert thingie, would you? I'm looking for a new recipe to
stuff myselffiddle with.no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 05:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2004-11-23 05:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-24 04:59 pm (UTC)OMGWTFDEJAVU
Date: 2004-11-23 05:33 pm (UTC)We've actually started keeping a log - "Canned CHristians, now with
moreless pork", and Jesus Pooped. Follows is a short example that randomly popped out while we were watching the ad slides before a movie-Roommie: I want to go to Sweden.
Boyfriend: What? You want a smoothie?
Roomie: NO! I want to go to Sweden.
Boyfriend: Oh-no thanks, I'm not hungry.
Mind you it was QUIET except for me giggling and snarking in pain.
no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 06:01 pm (UTC)*still chortling helplessly*
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Date: 2004-11-23 06:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 06:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 07:07 pm (UTC)This was on the freeway one day:
"Uh, guys? I really did just see a celebrity."
"Who?"
"That guy. From that show."
"That clears it up."
"With the red hair"
"Donal Logue?"
"Yes!"
By the way, my brother has said he'll get me the unrated director's cut of King Arthur for Christmas. Because to be honest, that movie could have done with a lot more sex and violence, so that's what I'm hoping for.
no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 07:44 pm (UTC)And OMGWTFCHEESELIKEPLASTICOFFCUTS!!!
And if Sister Girl continues her snit, I'm not starving, but I would still like some hand-crafted HP merchandise.
And now I have that song in my head from My Fair Lady: "Hear them down in SoHo square, dropping H's everywhere, speaking English any way they like..."
no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 07:48 pm (UTC)Hey,
ALEXANDER... Hmmm... I hear there's a sex scene between Alex and the Queen of Thebes, but no nookie between Alex and Haphaestion. C'mon- It was bad enough we didn't get any Brad Pitt/Pactrolus snogging in TROY, but No Colin Farrell/Jared Leto lovescenes? In a film about a famously Gay Conqueror?! Auuugh!
Still, we'll always have Orlando...er, Paris
Wirrrn!
no subject
Date: 2004-11-24 05:01 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 08:01 pm (UTC)*giggles drunkenly*
no subject
Date: 2004-11-24 11:02 am (UTC)Yarha, Sorta Like 'Fab' or 'Hip'