Monday, December 11, 2006

I have been catching up with last season's shows on my Netflix. Lost was 7 discs. I'm watching the end of disc 6, knowing that another DVD was coming in the mail the next day. It was a good episode with a lot of cliff-hanging questions. What's going to happen to Kate, Sawyer, and Jack? Will Michael come back? How will Hurley change? I get the 7th disc the next day. It is just extras. I had apparently watched the season finale and not realized it. This has totally messed me up. I was watching the finale, thinking it was just another episode. I wasn't prepared mentally and emotionally for the cliffhanger. Now I want to go back and watch the last episode again, and appreciate it. It's like having a grandparent die. You just saw them yesterday, but you had no idea that was it. Maybe you would have paid more attention to the day you spent together if you had known it would be your last. You know?


I've gone my whole life without seeing too many people vomit--perhaps three. Well, last week I about doubled my lifetime total. I took my parents to the airport, and as I was driving away, I noticed a woman squatting near the curb. Was she looking for something? What could it be? Just then, a torrent of gastric waste comes shooting out of her mouth. In a Saturday Night Live kinda way--except not funny. And Norm MacDonald wasn't about to eat it up. Then, on my way home from work a couple of days later, I noticed an elderly gentleman standing at an odd angle outside of his car. He was about 15 feet away from me in a parking lot and I was at a red light. Was he having a heart attack? Was he dizzy from standing up too fast? Nope. He was puking.

Seriously folks, let's try to keep the public displays of regurgitation to a minimum.


I still think The Fragile is my AllTimeFavorite NIN album.


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