So, for the last week or so I’ve been sick.  Not flu-ridden, I don’t seem to get flu-ridden, but horrible head cold.  Haven’t really though about how nasty head colds can be until I get walloped with one.  It hit a crescendo while I was working a big open house event at work–long day:  morning show, an afternoon of me giving building tours, and then an evening performance.  By the end of the night my body kindly told me that it wasn’t going to allow anymore interference with drugs of any sort.  Oh no, you’re not going to be productive anymore! It kindly informed me, time for you to feel the full awfulness of the crud.  And I did.  I spent most of Sunday hiding under a blanket, only removing myself for dinner and a movie with Libby because I promised and would not hear the end of it if I cancelled.  Then I dove back under the blanket, surfacing for cold medicine and tea periodically, until Tuesday when I went in to work.  I spent part of the day there and then left to return to my couch and my blanket.  I stayed home sick on Wednesday and went to class Wednesday night armed with tea, cold medicine, and juice.  Then I crashed and went into work on Thursday, not necessarily better, but at least marginally more alive.  Worked through the weekend and made it to my days off.  Sunday was alright, but Monday I had a pretty crippling headache.  Slept a lot, with my window open fortunately, and woke feeling better still this morning.  Think I might actually be out of the woods on this one.

So, the last week was an odd one with the Easter holiday and some cancellations.  We had stuff going on every other day at work.  As a result, I had Friday night off, so Zack and I got some food at Potbelly’s and then saw Clash of the Titans opening night (this never happens anymore).  The flick was good, solid B movie fun.  The 3D was wretched–rendered in post and done very poorly.  We only went to the 3D because it was the first evening showing and I really wish we’d waited to see it in 2D.  I’m getting a little tired of Hollywood retrofitting movies in 3D right now to callously make more money because Avatar (which was conceived and filmed in 3D) did well.  Fuck that shit.

Last Sunday (March 27th) I saw Hot Tub Time Machine and loved it.  It’s way better than the title indicates and way smarter and funnier than it probably should be.  It helps to go in with a working knowledge of 80’s flicks, because the thing is packed with gags from the decade, but even without it’s a solid flick.  It’s also, strangely, moving.  It’s about three friends who over the course of 24 years have drifted apart and also gotten sidetracked from the things in their lives that made them happy.  John Cusack arrives at the beginning of the movie after yet another woman has left him, Craig Robinson has given up his musical dream to work at a pet fitness center (you really see how low he’s fallen when someone recognizes him as he is assisting their dog and while being asked what happened to his music career he fishes a set of keys from the dog’s ass), and Rob Codroy, whose character has become a violently nostalgic alcoholic who almost kills himself (everyone believes it’s a suicide attempt) by revving his cars engine along to the drum beats in a power-pop song.  They end up at the ski resort where they remember having epic times (which is also a mirror for their lives in it’s rundown state) and end up in the euphonious hot tub.  Clark Duke plays John Cusack’s nephew who is along for the ride.  Hilarity ensues.

Other stuff is going on, but I’m not going to speak in any detail about it because I am afraid that the wrong folks may have found this journal and are reading it closely.  I don’t want a repeat of last September.  There is a large bitter and anxious chunk of my life right now–bitterness and anxiousness that I share with others, but I don’t feel like I have a good platform from which to speak about it.  So I won’t, for now.

So, that’s all I’ve got for the moment.  I’m off for the next two weeks, but I can’t exactly go anywhere because I have class, so we’ll see what happens.  I may try to steal away to my parents’ house for a few days somewhere in there.  I think I should also get my eyes checked and get some new glasses and contact lenses.  Ah, to be an adult–

More later …


Published by: Thomas Rohde

Artist // Writer // Theatre Professional // Nerd // Night Owl Inspired by a steady and lifelong infusion of pop culture, comic books, and a vast assortment of films and books, our friendly neighborhood blogger has doomed himself to a life of creative pursuits. There's not enough time for everything, but we all do what we can. Artist: of watercolor, ink, comic illustration, horror/ sci-fi/ fantasy art. Writer: of fictions, tweets, captions & blogs. Lover: coffee, whiskey, wine & beer. Instagram and Twitter as @demipho

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