Just don't pay attention to the occaisonal emphesema-esque coughing attacks.

I feel like a fire-breathing dragon right now. Not so much fun. I'm not sure what the hell is wrong with me, I'm just glad it waited to develop until after finals and I sure as hell hope it doesn't decide to stick around for too much longer. I talked to my dad on the phone yesterday and told him I was sick, and he, of course, is worried because I haven't gone to the doctor already. I told him: "Dad, I'm sick as of today. I don't need to go to the doctor after one day." To which he answered: "Well, be careful not to let it go too long." To which I eloquently replied: "Dad, I'm just snotty. It's not a big deal." Although every once and awhile I've had, not really a feeling of being on the verge of passing out, but rather the need to just fall to the ground and lay there completely motionless just for the sake of gathering my strength. Does this seem weird? Truth be told, I really don't give a fuck whether its weird or not.

Speaking of weird, I'm really looking forward to Sunday night because at 7, PBS is airing the first episode of its new ultrageeky reality show, Colonial House. And after that, I intend to switch to CBS to watch Helter Skelter, the Charles Manson movie. So much entertainment for only $9.95 a month. In four short days, I have fallen in love with basic cable. Much to my surprise, I don't miss the MTV. I don't even miss Queer Eye. Rather I have engrossed myself in Oprah and Dr. Phil and the BBC World News and The Bachelor and Will & Grace reruns and Law and Order SVU and the list runs on. I also get the National Geographic channel so I've watched a couple of episodes of Dogs With Jobs and a special or two about gorillas. I even stop occaisionally on the Home Shopping Network to scoff at the shit they're trying to sell and, subsequently, anyone who would dare to buy it.

Okay. Let's get right down to it. This has been my week so far:

Monday- came home from work at 10 and watched crappy tv until one instead of doing any work for finals.

Tuesday- Slept in. Worked on paper. Watched The View. Worked on paper. Watched NG special about the Ocean Desert. Worked on paper. Watched Dr. Phil. Watched Oprah. Worked on paper.

(I think you're probably catching on to the pattern, so I won't continue)

Wednesday-Finished last paper at 10:30 in the morning. Watched tv from that point until 12:00 when I went to have lunch with Erica. Returned at 2:00. Watched TV until 7 when I had to go to class to turn my fucking paper in. Came back at 8:45 (with ice cream, mind you) and watched tv until 12:30.

Today: Worked until 2:30. Came home and watched TV up until 20 minutes ago when I stopped to check my email and write this.

Granted, I think that some of this has to do with the fact that I'm sick and I'm in one of those states where I don't need to be napping all day long, but I don't really have the energy to do anything but lay around. And even if it has nothing to do with the fact that I'm sick, I'm not concerned with all of my mad TV watching because I'll certainly get bored with it soon and then I'll find my way back to books and whatnot.

Another confession (which has already been confessed to Megan): With all of the time that I've spent watching the news these past couple of days, I've seen plenty about everything going on with the abuse of the Iraqi prisoners. (A sidenote: When I first heard of this, my first thought was: what kind of painted-over opinion do we have of ourselves as Americans to actually think that we are incapable of something like this? Throughout our history, as relatively short as it may be, proven ourselves to be violent and irrational and misguided and, always at the peak times of our stupidity, downright barbaric? But back to the point at hand . . . ) So whenever this issue is raised, I find myself particularly excited when they show clips of the interviews with Lynndie I-Don't-Know-Her-Last-Name because it seems so apparent to me that she's certainly not torn up with guilt and regret about the whole thing. And there seems to be an air about her that suggests that she really liked the whole thing. Because of all of this-- and feel free to question both my sanity and morality on this one-- I feel strangely drawn to her.

I daresay I've been drawn in to Waligore's conviction that people really like to kill other people.

Whatever.

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