I Am One Snotty Woman

The whole city has turned into a giant island o' snot, with everyone perpetually trading colds. On the subway I sat next to a man making very bubbly liquidy kinds of sounds every time he inhaled, kind of like how I would imagine boiling water would sound from inside the pot. He was sitting right beside me, which in a New York subway car means practically on me, and he kept wiping his nose with his hand and I could see the thick rope of mucus on the backside of his hand just sitting there ready to fly right onto me with the next lurch of the train. I tried to make myself suddenly become about 6 sizes smaller, but to no avail. Luckily, I was not attacked by stray projectile mucus...this time. I was lucky. Very very lucky.

I myself am valiantly battling the snotmonster; the snotmonster is winning. I have been taking my Emergen-C dilligently this time around, determined not to get as sick as I've been getting recently. Sleep would help, I'm sure, but hey...don't expect miracles here okay? Rest assured that I am not sounding like boiling water from the inside of a pot, nor am I terrorizing fellow subway passengers; I'm just feeling pretty crappy.

Tonight my friend, the Movies & Meals Maven, took me to see a movie for my birthday. I haven't hung out with the Movies & Meals Maven since she and Vidipookikins accompanied me to get my clitoris pierced last spring (real quality time, as you can imagine), but I've known her since I was 17 and she was my roomate in my first apartment ever. We've grown apart since I've moved here, but tonight we reconnected and it was really nice. Plus I only go to the movies about once a year, so it was quite a treat.

After much deliberation, we chose to go see Bride and Prejudice, partly because it worked well with the timing and locale, but I love Bollywood cheese and I love Pride and Prejudice so it seemed a perfect choice. It was great! It was hysterically funny to the Movies & Meals Maven, who hadn't read the novel, and even more so to me being that I just finished listening to it on tape a couple of weeks ago. Bollywood films are sublime in their inherent self consciousness and self mockery, and this was no exception. There was even one part where the characters end up in a movie theatre playing a Bollywood film, and a great love scene montage completely making fun of love scene montages. And its a musical to boot, full of super cheesy pee-in-your-pants funny numbers with huge crowds dancing in the streets. It's from the same director as Bend It Like Beckham, which I loved. It's just a good fun movie, perfect for a cold dreary snot battling tired kind of a day.

Now I must go sleep and dream of Mr. Darcy; I'm pooped.