Sunday, May 16, 2010

It's Free and it's Awesome

Oh the things I could tell you, Internet Friends! The weekend I have had! First off, isn't it fun when in your head, you have a cinematic flashback, complete with soundtrack and it all explains something going on that really isn't *that* confusing, but you're all "OH. YEAH. sighhhhhhh" and then you think, "why is my internal soundtrack playing DIDO?!" Okay, well anyway, I'm sick again. I know, right? Seriously. I should just check myself into the hospital, demand an IV drip full of rehydrating goodness and vitamins, and start clicking the button shaped like a nurse's head so that someone will bring me some damned Sprite Zero and Jell-o already!

Basically, I've had a sinus-y thing for a few days that morphed into a Total Head Thing so I'm not getting a ton of air. I was all "hey what's up ALLERGIES" but no, no. Then, I had my weird-internal-cinematic-montage moment and remembered reading last week on a pill bottle: "Use of this medicine may compromise your immune system and increase your risk of certain infections."

Oh. Mmmm hmmmm. Swell.

So I'm pretty sure that the life-saving ASS-ma medicine basically just kicked my immune system in the crotch and now I'm all SICK again. Great. I guess the upside of this is that I can take some real Sudafed (once I sign the "I-promise-I-won't-make-meth" paperwork) and get some hardcore vacuuming done.

*Point of interest: I was recently informed by a friend of mine who works the graveyard shift at WalMart that the meth-heads have switched things up, and they're currently using vast amounts of flea and tick medicine to make their product. I'm not sure if I should be impressed with their ingenuity and perseverance, or sort of relieved that meth-heads will (at least) be parasite free. I'm also pretty sure that none of this means I get my Sudafed back from behind the counter. Curse you, meth- heads.*

Anyhooooo, as I told my Facebook friends today, I'm heading to the doctor another freaking time again so I can continue with my plan to Buy My Doctor a Vacation Home. She's a good doctor, and doesn't she deserve a nice summer house in the Hamptons? I know! How else can she get there, if people like ME don't donate? Exactly.

So. I was going to break from my thrilling saga of my Ongoing Struggle for Life, and tell you about how I saw Iron Man 2 this weekend (with my kids) (you're welcome all the people behind us!) but really - you know I'd love that movie. I mean, I knew from the previews that I'd love it. Robotic suit. Explosions. AC/DC soundtrack. What about that *doesn't* scream Sammo's Type of Movie?!

So let's cut to the chase shall we? I was reading The Bloggess (kudos to YOU El Bloggess for incorporating "blog" and feminizing it in a regal title!) and *she* has an advice column and it's always HIGHlarious and I thought, hell, Your Favorite Writer is also *F A B U L O U S* at giving advice.

(The inference is CLEAR here friends, and if not, let me spell it out for you. I need to do an advice column! The problem, is, *obviously* I don't have The Bloggess' audience. Bastards!)

I mean, I give advice like I get paid for it ANYway - just ask my friends! And it's WAY better than any life choices that *I* actually make. Seriously. I'm very logical and practical and basically a GENIUS of sorts when I give advice. When I'm stuck on my own problems though, well, then I'm all blind-drunk-woman-in-a-labyrinth-filled-with-tigers. Which is to say, (sentence fragment), totally hopeless.

But that's the point! I wouldn't be advising MYSELF. I'd be advising tragic and confused mortals who wander over here after searching ways to stay alive by eating jell-o! Or the guy (I'm assuming because frankly, women don't place bets on what creatures they can shove in various orifices. Orifici? Whatever.) who wanted to swallow the bee! Or just people who send me questions!

So seriously, if I opened this up for advice would anyone come? Um, probably not. And that bastards saddens me friends, it saddens me DEEPLY. Or not really THAT deeply. (The fact that I'm about to drop some more cash like it's printed in my basement all to see my doctor again saddens me DEEPLY.)

The thing is: I feel that I am *100% qualified* to give amazing and life changing advice. I'm talking transformative life lessons here people. For free. Yeah. I know. Nominate me for a Nobel, it's totally expected acceptable. Or just mail me some of those pastry french twirl thingies - that's cool too.

You've heard it here first. I'm offering advice and I won't even charge you like that stupid chick Lucy in the Peanuts cartoon - because she charged a quarter and her advice was crappy and Charlie Brown always got shafted during football ANYWAY. I'll wait a year if I have to and then, then my friends, I will answer with insight and brilliance - and once again, I've done mankind a service.

Comments, questions, QUESTIONS???