*cough wheeze hack cough snort whine cough hack whine*

Oh hello. I didn't see you there. I was too busy spending my Friday night sitting on my couch at home suffering from consumption whilst sipping tea and watching The Rachel Maddow Show (luuurve her!) on msnbc. Apparently this particular varietal of cold/flu that I have is the sort that turns you into your own father. 

Note: this "tea" that I'm drinking is actually a mixture of hot water, one tablespoon of honey and one tablespoon of apple cider vinegar. Through the magic of the blogosphere (yay blogosphere!), I read randomly somewhere that this is actually a well-known homeopathic remedy for pretty much all that ails ya. It tastes like complete ass - really putrid-appley ass with a bouquet of foot odor - (...okay okay okay, it's actually slightly less disgusting than ass since, by "one tablespoon of honey" I really meant "a buttload* of honey") and smells even worse, but doggone if I don't think it's already working. It could just be that I started drinking it while it was still too hot and just succeeded in making my esophagus too burnt to actually cough. Or it could be that the pop I heard when I blew my nose earlier actually was my brain exploding from the sinus pressure and now I am just imagining this magical ass tea working. Whatever. As long as it stops this effing cough already Goddamnit.

*Note to self: "ass" (three times!), "foot odor," and "buttload" all in one sentence? What is your problem?

WHAAAT THE EFF??!! I've been trying to upload a couple of entertaining (to me, anyway) videos of BB and Bela and it's taking Blogger forevahr to do it! Like almost an hour, and it still won't finish uploading. Ugh. I'm too ass-tea-poisoned and full of mucous to deal with this. I'll try again in the morning. Blagh.

Um...yeah.

I made the brilliant idiotic brilliotic™ decision to take some nighttime cold/flu medication last night which resulted in my last coherent memory of the night being my slumping down on the couch with reruns of The Office on the television and then Schmooblebuns having to wake me up and guide me to the bed at 2am (3am? 4am?) while I stumbled around like a drunk. Nothing like generic-brand Nyquil to make you feel like you just got sucker punched in the face. But, whatever, as long as it gets rid of my consumption.

OH YEAH, THERE'S THIS: Then I woke up at 5:30 in the morning to the sound of SOMEBODY OPENING OUR FRONT DOOR. At first I thought, "Hm...I wonder why Schmooblebuns is going out this early in the morning?" but then I rolled over and HE WAS LYING IN BED NEXT TO ME PASSED OUT. Jeebus Christ. BB - brave little girl that she is (!!!) - actually jumped up off the bed at the sound of the door as well and went to investigate. This happened, obviously, while I was busy sitting upright in bed peeing in my pants. Luckily, the door closed back shut again about two seconds later and I heard no angry barking from BB. Her head appeared unscathed at the bedroom door a moment later, which I took as a sign that my little ten-pound Ewok baby had successfully frightened off the would-be murderer. Just to be safe, I gingerly tiptoed out of the bedroom and peeked my head around to see if there were any axe-wielding body hackers hiding around the corner - luckily there were none. Thank Jeebus I had Nyquil-drunkenly passed out with my contact lenses still in last night or this all could have been much more terrifying. Anyway, I ended up walking around and turning all the lights on and checking behind every possible murderer-hiding-place (In the bathtub behind the shower curtain: CHECK!) and then lying in bed for another hour while occasionally shoving Schmoobles in his sleep as passive-aggressive punishment for snoring through this whole ordeal and for not locking the doors in the first place. 

Note #1: Was that just some drunken idiot accidentally walking into the wrong apartment at 5:30 in the morning?

Note #2: Or did I actually just imagine all that in my head due to my narcotic-induced stupor?

Reunited and it feels so goooood...

So. I'm sure you've all noticed my lack of posts lately. It has everything to do with the fact that my adopted computer (one out of THREE Macbooks that Schmooblebuns is currently in possession of...obsessedwithMacs much?) has been in the shop for the past week and I just got it back this afternoon, and nothing at all to do with the fact that I am a lazy botch who can't even take it upon herself to write a post or two on her iPhone for Chrissake. Also, not much has happened lately except for my ongoing battle with eighteenth-century consumption. Possibly the swine flu. Possibly boring old regular flu. Possibly my asthma flaring up and no longer responding to my usual controller medication. Without any health insurance, we'll never know.... (dun dun DUNNN).

Just kidding, Mom. I should have health insurance by next week so please stop worrying!!

Anyway. Something that is exciting is that I took my first real bona fide clarinet lesson in about 4 years earlier today. It was from this gentleman. It was excellent. I felt like an actual clarinetist again - instead of a devil-stick wielding crazy woman who abuses little children. I'll write more about the lesson soon. But in the meantime, the entire fourth season of Felicity beckons me online and I must heed its call. Here I come, Ben Covington!!!

Things not to do after a full day of teaching clarinetz.

Eat nothing but a Grande Soy Pumpkin Spice Latte during the day, then come home in a ravenous craze and stuff you face with a hotdog, a handful of popcorn chicken, a handful of fried okra, a handful of Sun Chips, a glass of chocolate (soy!) milk ...and 2 teaspoons of cough syrup. 

Excuse me, I have to go wretch now. Blaaaarh.

Outsourced Facebook Status Update #8

Ysabel Sarte just realized that the new Music Director of the L.A. Philharmonic is younger than her and is drowning her sorrows in a cheeseburger, Coke and donuts for dinner. HEY I'm allowed to do that this week, okay?!

Outsourced Facebook Status Update #7

Ysabel Sarte went to Target and proudly walked out with only the essentials: toilet paper and Drano Max. ...Okay okay okay and a box of mini donuts. I'M ONLY HUMAN, OK?! 

*****

List of things that I picked up and very nearly put into my basket, but decided to put back on the shelf instead:

1. Lilac colored lip gloss. I love those pink lip colors that have a hint of a lavender hue to them. And I've always wanted to believe that that color would look good on me. Oh well, I guess I'll have to find out another day.

2. Chocolate bar with almonds and sea salt. Chocolate and big salt chunks? Very intriguing (especially since I am PMSing and am craving all things sweet and salty). But it was like $3 for a bar half the size of a regular Hershey's bar. ON SALE. Just couldn't do it.

3. Coffee maker with programming function and higher cup capacity. I've been wanting to upgrade our coffee maker for a while. But, alas, I couldn't justify buying a new coffee maker when ours is still perfectly functional. Blargh.

4. Area rug. I had a very quick vision upon walking past the home decor section of putting a little area rug and coffee table in our living room in lieu of the sad-looking and non-functional empty space that is currently inhabiting the area between our couch and television. And then reason got the better of me and I realized that an area rug and coffee table would just be two more additional items that we would eventually have to carry down four floors and cram into a moving truck. Oh, would that that "eventually" be sooner rather than later! Anyway, laziness prevails, so I let that fleeting fantasy pass.

3 stars, my ass.

Ohhh. Maaaah. Gaaaaaaarrrhhh.

Last night I dreamt that I was watching a very contemptuous brawl between two people (I have no idea who) and one of them decided to defeat his opponent by taking a freaking toothbrush, sticking it into the other guy's right eye socket and effing popping his eyeball out. 

Two things of note: 

1) I remember distinctly in my dream that the poor guy - whilst having a pink toothbrush gouging his eye socket kept trying to reason with his opponent saying, "Oh dear. That's a little bit much. Can you lighten up a little? It's going to make my eyeball pop out! Oh no, not so hard! My eyeball's going to pop out!" And then it did.

2) Later on during my sleep adventures (Act II, if you will), I don't know why, but I somehow ended up with no effing right eyeball!! ACK ACK ACK. I seemed to be unfazed by it, to be perfectly honest, although I do remember avoiding mirrors and windows at all costs because I didn't want to see what I looked like with an empty hole in my head where there was supposed to be an eyeball. So clearly, I'm not one to be bothered by having a missing eyeball, as long as I can't see it. I'm so vain.

Then we reached an integral point in the action where I needed somebody's assistance to help me jam a rather thick and large piece of paper containing a picture of an eye (which, incidentally, was blue or green instead of brown - weird) into my empty eye socket and - here's the best part - you know who I asked to help me with this most delicate of tasks? LO FROM THE HILLS. You don't know who this is? Good for you. She, um, wouldn't be my first choice in real life. You know, to insert a picture of an eyeball into my empty eye socket. But here she is:

Let me tell you. 1) Lo was surprisingly gentle and caring when undertaking the delicate procedure. 2) In my dream, I could feel every last millimeter of that picture being jammed into my cranium and, man, it was WEIRD. Strangely - and thankfully - wholly un-papercut-like. Just...weird. 

And THEN. I realized that, as I was patiently letting Lo do her task, I could see what was on the back of the eyeball picture (incidentally, just some writing - I can't recall what it was...I think just something out of a magazine). Which is strange, if you think about it since that goes against the laws of physiology - I mean, there not being an eyeball there with which to see anything and all. But I digress.

Suddenly, before Lo could finish putting the entire picture in, I jumped up with the revelation that - if I am going to be staring at the back of this eyeball picture for the rest of my life, I might as well make sure that I'm going to be staring at something that I love dearly so I ran off to find pictures of:

1. Schmooblebuns (Hm. I guess after all the foibles and such that have gone on the last couple of weeks, I still kind of like the guy. Who woulda thunk?)

2. BB and Bela

3. My neices Kat and Vanessa

You know, so I could paste their pictures onto the back of the eyeball picture and live happily ever after. 

SO. WEIRD.

*****

On a totally related note: Last night Schmoob and I went to the Thai restaurant in our city (No, literally, it is the one and only Thai restaurant in our city...) for the first time and ordered some of our faves (pad kee mao and Massuman curry). I requested three out of five stars, as per my usual. But what we got back was more like 8 trillion out of 5 stars. I managed about five bites of my drunken noodles before I had to admit defeat and go find a trough of ice water do dunk my burning face in (that's code for "chug an ice cold bottle of Singha beer"). 

And upon walking out of the restaurant towards the car while rubbing my flaming belly, I remarked, "Wow, I bet I'm going to have some strange dreams tonight."