Bye Vancouver! Thank you!!

Good things about the Winter Olympics being over:
I WILL ...
~ No longer need to avoid USAToday.com and CNN.com until after I've watched the evening's Olympic coverage.
~ Not have weird guilt about watching perfectly fit athletes kicking their own butts in the name of their country while I sit on the sofa eating cookies.
~ Be in charge of my own remote again.
~ Be able to watch my normal television shows on the proper night ... in my Cozy Chair.
~ Evict all the winter sport information from my head, leaving room for more lyrics to random children's shows.
~ Have to come up with another excuse to stay up way past my bedtime.
~ Make myself forget how much I love to ski, because I can't bear ever doing it again without Howie.
~ Find those perfectly awesome red, maple-leaf gloves, because now they'll be available online. I hope.
~ Start looking forward to London, 2012.

It's like doing a show with bears

I love the orcas. Always have. I've got my own framed Christian Riece Lassen poster, if you must know, and that is a sign of so much love for an animal that you'll pay way too much for a poster with a guy's name on it because he paints beautiful pictures of those animals. Ever since I was a kid, I've loved those animals. In fact, I had wanted to be a marine biologist for a time. Of course, when a fan of something, you want to see it. Sadly, the only venue for orcas (besides a trip out in the ocean) is a SeaWorld park.
No doubt you've heard about the orca that killed the trainer at the SeaWorld park this week. Apparently, this animal has been involved in two previous human deaths, so the rules surrounding him were strict. To hear SeaWorld and witnesses tell it, the trainer hadn't been abiding by the rules that day, and the whale acted accordingly. Still, a tragedy.
Here's my thing: these animals should not be used to "entertain" the masses. Quite obviously, just playing around is a dangerous sport with them. When a game of tag ends with a dead person, I think it's time for the whales to no longer be playing with people. Wild animals that are too big to defend against, too smart to out think, and too strong to get away from, should not be part of an amusement park, and certainly should not be playing in the water with people. Honestly, did none of these people see Jurassic Park? "These animals are ... living creatures, and they'll defend themselves. Violently, if necessary."
For humane and obvious reasons, these captive whales can't be released back into the wild. They wouldn't survive without the human assistance they've had for so many years. Would it be just as cruel to give them nothing but the existence of a zoo animal? It seems like their mental acuity requires the stimulation that the trainers and the activities provide.
I propose that SeaWorld keeps the animals they have and continue acting as they do, but that the parks not acquire any new orcas, and let the orca program die with the last of the animals, would be the best course of action. But that's an orca lover's opinion. A SeaWorld "Shamu"-profit lover would have no qualms about keeping the whole thing as status quo.

Back to normal ... in a couple days

I think that, when the Winter Olympics are over, I'll finally be getting a decent amount of sleep every night. But beyond that, what the heck am I going to do with myself? As I told Brian tonight, "It's been nice sitting on the sofa with you every night for the last two weeks." It's rare that we have something to watch together on television, and the fact that the programming lasts for several hours every night, makes for A LOT of next-to-each-other time for us. That's not to say that we don't enjoy it, but I have so much of my own TV to catch up on, and he likes to take up as much sofa space as he possibly can. When I'm out there, it's not just him and I, but Oliver and Daisy as well. Also, we are acutely aware of what we each snack on at night when we're sitting together. I prefer cookies, he goes for a bag of potato chips. (Late-night snack of champions!!)
So, following Sunday, our television time together swings back to its normal routine, which is him sleeping in front of ESPN/History/Science/Discovery on the big TV in the living room, and me cuddled in the bedroom's Cozy Chair with Oliver at my side, my computer on my lap, and the remote next to me.

Tonight, Chuck E. haunts me

Nicole and I decided that, since we couldn't get the girls together for a morning visit this week, we would make an early trip out to the local Chuck E. Cheese's restaurant late this afternoon. We thought that a meeting time of 4:30 or so, on a random Thursday, would be okay.
Um, holy crap were we wrong! Some middle school in Phoenix was hosting its fundraising night at that particular Chuck's, and we unknowingly stepped right into the thick of it when we arrived.
Let's bullet point this one for you:
~ A woman verbally accosted us as we entered, asking if we were there for the fundraiser. "No." "Here, take a sticker. You get 10 free tokens, and the school gets a portion of your order proceeds." She yelled, because the interior decibel level was deafening.
~ A very large family took in excess of 10 minutes to make its pizza and soda order, and then the card was denied.
~ The place itself was bursting with -- chockablock full of -- tweens, going this way and that, near and far, hither and yon. They yelled, they smelled, and they ran around. They edged in line. I don't like that.
~ Usually, when we go during the week (a luxury, I realize, more so now than ever), there are about 10 other kids in the restaurant. Tonight, there were so many people in the building that I feared a sudden occurrence of claustrophobia.
~ Sydney fears the walking and talking Chuck E. Cheese.
~ The pizza though, went down very well. As much as we hate to admit it, it usually does.
~ The place was what I believe the middle of a buzzy bee hive may be like. So much activity, so many bodies moving everywhere, each one with its own purpose. Soda and pizza seemed to fuel it.
~ Nicole and I could not get the kids out of there fast enough. In fact, it was our quickest visit ever, at only an hour. Nicole's text tonight: "I don't want to see a mouse for a long time." My reply: "I called my mom and apologized for making her take me there for dinner when I was little."

A paste of some kind, or maybe Whitestrips

UPDATE to the previous post!: I made it! Post done before midnight!! With a couple minutes to spare!
Also, Oliver did just fine with his teeth cleaning on Tuesday. His breath is super fresh, his teeth are pearly white, and he should be on a Crest commercial.

Is it Thursday yet?

I have a weird issue with the blogging, and it comes to a hurried and frothy head tonight, as I compose this post.
I pay particular attention to the dates of the posts as they go online. I like to have a post every day, but for several reasons (both charitable and selfish) I sometimes don't. I keep track of the posts by the dates listed above the text on the blog itself.
But (correctly, I realize), when I write a post and save it to the blog at even a minute after midnight, the date is the next day's date, get my internal system all flummoxed. So I'm checking out the clock on the computer right now, and it's all, "11:55 p.m." But who knows if that is Blogger's time, too? So I'm racing against the Blogger clock right now to get this weirdly rambling, and completely anal retentive blog post online before the clock flips, and it's suddenly Thursday.

Plushenko skates with the crazy

I love me some angry ice skater. So, the Russian male figure skater, Evgeni Plushenko, has embraced the crazy, and awarded himself a PLATINUM medal from the Vancouver Winter Olympic Games. Still smarting from the silver medal he was given after failing to outscore Evan Lysacek in this weekend's skating contest, Plushenko has taken to the Internet, and proclaimed himself above the Games and is displaying a platinum medal on his web site (pictured there, to the left). It reads, "Silver of Salt Lake, Gold of Torino, Platinum of Vancouver." I can't imagine that the International Olympic Committee is going to look too favorably on him for blatantly belittling the skating results, but also for creating his own medal.

Ollie goes to the dentist tomorrow

Tomorrow morning, Ollie G. gets his teeth cleaned. It'll be the first time for a cleaning (I know, bad parents), and only the second time he's ever been put under general anesthesia, after his neutering six or seven years ago. These events stress me out. I worry so much about my boy, and just hate the thought of him sleeping at the vet's without me there to hold his little head, or rub his tummy, or scratch his ears as he wakes up. The basic issues involved with anesthesia freak me out enough, and I'm just that bit more unstable when it comes to Oliver, that I think I may just be a nerve-jangling emotional psycho all morning tomorrow. I have no idea how long the procedure takes either, so who knows how long I'll be sitting by the phone waiting for the call to go pick him up. He's not allowed to eat anything else tonight; I've picked up the food bowl off the floor. I was sure he had a full tummy before his fast though, by giving him half a can of the yummy (for him) wet food. I feel better about that, knowing he had a delicious dinner. Still, I'll be worried all morning tomorrow. And I'll probably cry as I drive out of the vet's parking lot. ... I'm such a worry wart.

Now, even less love for Jay

I really don't like Jay Leno now. I was never a big fan, as any look back at my posts will show, but the new Tonight Show commercial spots about him moving from 10 p.m. to 11:35 p.m. are irritating. Actually, irritating isn't even the right word. I'm not sure the word, to tell you the truth, except to say that they make me throw up a little bit in my mouth when I see them. He just looks so ... smug. That's it. His smug face is what is turning me more against him than I ever was.
Which makes the announcement of his new shows' first week's guests a bit of a conundrum. It's like my love, the Olympics, warring against my dislike, watching Jay Leno on television. Check it: Monday, skier Lindsay Vonn; Tuesday, snowboarder Shaun White; Wednesday, speed skater Apolo Ohno. Why, oh why, can't they all be traveling to The Daily Show instead?
But it's really not much of a contest, honestly. I can't imagine Leno will ask any questions that the journalists and media types haven't already asked over the last 10 days (and in the remaining six), so I doubt there will be any super new stories or information to come from the interviews (he's so milquetoast sitting behind that chair!!). If anything good comes from them, I'll read about it online. So, no, you won't find me watching Leno after the Olympics, even if he does have ultimate Olympics-watcher bait on the program!!

A tangent in defense of Apolo

I make no apologies for my pro-United States attitude when it comes to the Olympics. I always think that our athletes should win. They do, after all, wear the stars and stripes. I also make no apologies for hoping that the other countries' athletes will make a mistake, fall or disqualify themselves in some way, making it even easier for my home team to win.
You'll understand how this attitude makes it so stressful for me to watch Apolo Ohno skate. I know he's as good or better than all the other skaters out there. (You've seen him when he decides to put his pedal to the metal. He's amazing.) I openly root for the other skaters to fall and/or get tripped up.
But this obvious bias has nothing to do with the assertion that I believe that Apolo is the victim of a conspiracy. Well, we know that the Korean skaters hate him. So there's no real surprise in the thinking that the Korean skaters, individually and as a team, will do all they can to keep him from winning, or medaling in, a race. He gets all kinds of jostled around when he skates with them.
I'm not making excuses for his non-gold performances. In fact, he's an amazing skater because all this happens and he still manages to place well in the contests. The conspiracy, I believe, is in the judging of the skaters and their flying elbows and whatnot. How are they allowed to continue to skate in that manner? Some of these pushes and nudges are frighteningly violent and remarkably obvious. "Dear Judges: Open your eyes and look at these pushing infractions! Teach these pushy kids that this kind of behavior isn't becoming on the ice."
Anyway, I'll admit to being a sore loser, because I think Apolo always should win. I hate it when I see his progress impeded by some other skater. I like it better when he is able to kick everyone's asses!

Ice "Dancing With"-out "the Stars"

I'm not entirely sure how this happened, but it is earlier than 11 p.m., and I'm getting ready for bed. I've seen all the Olympic coverage I'm going to see this evening, and with that, my daily fix has been met. Now, I'm just going to get some much-needed sleep. I haven't been to bed before midnight any night since the opening ceremonies. Jeez, you would think that I was working the Olympics instead of just being a crazy spectator.
Yes, we did watch the ice dancing, too, though at a single-click fast forward. I found it to be a bit odd, and incredibly literal. They really do just dance on the ice. Okay.

Tiger to come out of hiding

I just pulled this off the Entertainment Weekly web site:

Tiger Woods to apologize on Friday
Tiger Woods will apologize for his behavior and discuss his past and future at a Feb. 19 news conference in Ponte Vedra Beach, Fla., Bloomberg reports. It will be the first time Woods has addressed the media since his car crash last November and subsequent confirmation of extramarital affairs. Woods’ agent, Mark Steinberg, says the golfer has since taken steps to recovery. A small group of reporters will join friends, colleagues, and associates at the conference, but no questions or cameras are allowed.

I'm of two minds about this, and of course, I'll tell you why. First of all, I'm in favor of this particular mea culpa for the simple and only reason that, he needs to do this for the public relations clean-up, and it'll have to be done before he can re-emerge into the world again. Too many crazy, self-righteous people out there believe that his transgressions are personal affronts to them, and that he should be held accountable to the public for his private life. Too many would do ridiculous things like create a public boycott of Nike or Gatorade or the like because they kept him on the payroll. Too many would heckle and jeer him on the golf course at competitions. So, by doing this, he owns up to these perceived mistakes against "the people" and asks for forgiveness, thereby showing himself to be a flawed guy, and worthy of a second chance. By doing this, he gets to get back to the business of golf with less of a mess.
I'm against this, because, oh my god, people, he did nothing to you! The most personal inconvenience this could have brought anyone outside of his home and family is to those who planned on going to a tournament this year that Woods was playing in. Why should he apologize to all those yahoos I mentioned above only because he needs to make them feel like he's beholden to them? Sure, no celebrity is a celebrity without their fans, but we're talking about sport here. Tiger Woods would be a fantastic golfer with or without people liking him. He doesn't need their approval. And he certainly doesn't need to make them feel like they're morally superior. I would love for Tiger to say, "You know what? I cheated on my wife, not you. Get over it. I'm going to go out and play some golf."
Let me say it again: He broke no laws. He physically hurt no one. He did nothing that should warrant an apology to anyone but his wife and family. Leave him alone and let him get back to his business.

Ugh ... insults, real and perceived

We all have particular politicians that just bug us, no matter what happens to be coming out of their mouths. Mine used to be George W. Bush. My skin crawled every time I heard his voice in passing, and I changed the television channel every time I saw his face. With Obama in the White House, I thought, "Cool, now I won't have to avoid all political news, just any peripheral Fox News coverage."
But let me tell you, the resurgence of Sarah Palin as a (pseudo-) legitimate political figure is irritating the shit out of me. Today, she took to her Facebook page to, once again, complain about how some media outlet/program/elitist has allegedly picked on her or a member of her family. The cartoon show Family Guy on Sunday featured a new girl in Chris' life. She had Down Syndrome, and a mother who was a former governor of Alaska. (Palin's youngest son, Trig, has Down Syndrome.) Here's the thing: the cartoon character girl was treated no different than any other character on the program; held all the power in the relationship; and even dumped Chris by the end of the show.
Palin, of course, took this character as a personal slight, and she and her eldest daughter, Bristol, bitched a storm about it. So much so that the issue was the lead story on the Yahoo! homepage this evening. Apparently, she and Bristol are all about how people need to get along and quit being insensitive to each other.
Here's an idea: Rather than insisting that the world develop a conscience over a cartoon show that, let's face it, insults everyone it possibly can during the 22 minutes it's on the air every week, perhaps she should just develop her own sense of humor and take all this with a grain of salt. No one likes a whiner.

Can't wait for the curling!!

We've been watching the Olympics ... A LOT ... so my blogging has been a bit spotty, I know. But You got to love all these sporting activities! I read somewhere how amazing it is that a person can get so invested in the outcome of a sports contest that they just learned about 10 minutes prior to the contest itself. I love that the most, actually. I mean, Brian and I are watching cross-country skiing right now, recorded from this afternoon, and are totally into it. (In fact, I get grief every time I pull out the computer to do my farming or to check e-mail or Facebook. "Really? Can't you just watch this with me?" he says.) I swear, it's so random how obsessive we get about all this for these 16 days. I was thinking about the 2008 Summer Games, and how much easier it was to watch, because Sydney was a lot younger and less likely to bitch about what was on television, but also because with everything in a way different time zone, it's harder to catch it all. Thereby, the evening coverage was enough for us. Not so, with Vancouver on the same side of the same continent.
Anyway, I'm gonna go. We got some sport to watch.

Olympics? YES! ... ... Job? Not so much

An e-mail? Really? No phone call?
Hi Kimberly, It was a pleasure meeting you last week and we appreciate your interest in the position. We have selected a candidate to fill the position. Thank you for your time and we wish you success with your future endeavors.
Well, I guess that's that!

On to the next order of business:
Holy crap, my dearest peeps, the Winter Olympics started tonight!! Watching tonight's ceremonies, I realized that my favorite part of the opening ceremonies is the parade of athletes. To watch all these incredibly gifted athletes, so patriotic, enter the arena/stadium to such applause and pride is just great.
I do think that these ceremonies tend to run a little long though. I hope I'm not being irreverent or insensitive when I say that. Really, when the program starts off with the whole history of the host country, I get glassy eyed. Not for nothing is the knowledge that I would get like that if the program focused on the United States.
Also, these Olympics segments are completely and totally designed to bring a tear to the eye, and it bugs me. I hate that I'm on the verge of tears between each sporting event, because of some heart-rending story. I swear, I almost cried five or six times tonight just because of the news pieces explaining the warm relationship between the U.S. and Canada. And my god, how beautiful is the area up there? I think Vancouver may be one of my "not in the U.S." options now!

Honestly. Curling is COOL

Are you excited about the Winter Olympics? I kind of am, but don't know if I really care all that much. I say this every time though, and every time, I get sucked into the drama, suspense and love of it all. I remember falling deeply and passionately in love with curling during the last Winter Olympics (though I can't remember where they were held). Anyway, in preparation for my inevitable addiction to the Winter Olympics, starting tomorrow, I downloaded the NBC Olympic application for my phone. The app itself is pretty straightforward and overwhelming: sections for every sport, news on every sport and athlete, links to the athlete's social networking feeds (like Apolo Anton Ohno's Twitter), and of course, the medal count. There are more things on it. I can't remember it all though, as I didn't take the time to dig into every nook and cranny of the information. As the days go by though, I know I'll figure out my way around it.
I find myself wondering about this Valentine's Day movie. There are too many decent and likable actors in it for it to be any good at all. I just feel like the screenwriters spent so much time with so many different characters that there must be a lack of concentration on any one decent storyline. I can't imagine that Julia Roberts, Bradley Cooper, Jennifer Garner, Ashton Kutcher, and the 500 other big-name actors all got the same quality roll. I will completely and totally be putting this one on the Netflix queue.
Okay, let's just get this our of the way: No, I have not heard from the job. On the up side, the job is still listed online. On the down side, well, they haven't called me. I'm at that point right now though, where it's either meant to be, or not. Dudes, just call me either way.

It's official! I'm friends with Jules again!

ITEM!: I've mentioned a few times on the blog here my love for the Discovery Channel's The Deadliest Catch. The show follows several Alaskan crab fisherman through the fishing season. Over the past five years or so, we've gotten attached to the captains and their crew. Sadly, the captain of the Cornelia Marie, Phil Harris, died yesterday from complications after a major stroke last week. I'm so bummed. Now, I look forward to the new season with a bittersweet sadness.
ITEM!: One of the metaphorical Holy Grails of my Facebook friend quest has finally become a member of the social-networking site. And through no prompting from me. It seems as though my dearest Julia has been pressured by something or someone else. I would whine that it wasn't because of me, though I'm sure I've mentioned it a couple times over the last couple years, but honestly, I'm too excited to have her there. Now, it's all about Lisa, Pamela and Craig. Yes, I said you, LISA!! :)
ITEM!: I haven't heard from the job interview from last week yet. Let's wait and see if I get a call tomorrow or Friday. I sent a thank-you note with a reminder that I'm available for additional questions or another meeting, so there's nothing else I can do that wouldn't be considered stalking. I hate this sitting and waiting. I certainly appreciate Aunt Bette's good feeling about it though, and I hope she's right!

It's a weirder, shorter "M," too

Okay, it's official. MTV has finally announced, via a new logo, that the channel now has absolutely nothing to do with music on television. This makes me feel old in a number of ways, but now, finally, I can quit bitching about the fact that the channel is called "Music Television," and it shows nothing musical on it anymore. As the channel has given up on music, I have given up on thinking that it once had everything to do with music.
It's a shame, really. I remember explaining to Mom and Howie what MTV stood for, and why it was cool. I remember hearing some woman in line behind us at the movies complaining about her son who just sits in front of "that damn MTV now." I remember that Michael Jackson's "Thriller" video was something my friends and I rushed home from dinner to see. I remember when late-night television was full of Headbanger's Ball and the top 20 videos of the week. I remember when videos were literal translations of the song lyrics.
And now, our once revered music channel is full of schlocky garbage like Jersey Shore, Teen Mom and The Buried Life. Finally, the logo represents all that, instead of harking back to the day when music ruled the music channel. In this case, I suppose, reality TV killed the radio star ... er, music video star.

Back to work? Really?

I totally forgot to mention how the interview went!
I think it went really well. I managed to crawl out of my sweat pants, drive the SEVEN minutes to that office, and pull it together in a surprising fashion. I admitted to the interviewer that I had a cold, explaining that, though I had just Purelled my hands, if I dove into my bag for a tissue, he would know why. Both men that interviewed me separately were really nice, and I think I could see myself working there quite well. The interesting portion of the job is that there is minimal actual writing. A majority of the job is editing, pulling together text, and planning issues, as well as putting the books together. This, as a matter of fact, is my favorite part of the job. I used to say that, if I could do my job without having to actually talk to someone, I'd be a happy camper. And this job seems to be giving me a bit more of that kind of existence than any other job before it.
In my head, I'm already making plans. That's a good sign.
They told me that I would probably hear from them around the middle of this week.

Saints won the Super Bowl, and we all saw it!

The last few nights, I've been going to bed at 10 p.m., and more than anything, I've been feeling less that creative. This cold has kicked my ass, and today is the first day, in a few days, where I've felt like somewhat of a normal person again. Fatigued and feeling like hammered shit is not the best way to go about life.
Sydney is still dealing with the cold more than I'd like, and today, Brian is feeling it more than he has before. We're pretty sure that there is more than one illness floating around this house now, and it's a disgusting bowl of sick soup to be living within. Ugh. I'm going to be taking my NyQuil soon, so that'll make the evening a calmer, sleepier and soothier one.
Also, yay for the Saints! I love New Orleans, always have, and am so happy for that lovely town right now. I'd totally enjoy hanging out on Bourbon Street tonight, you know, if I felt better. Because, while my heart is in the Big Easy, my tired, sick and lesser-tolerant body is chillin' in the Cozy Chair, waiting to take its night-nights medicine.

Icy mountains also have cold

Have I told you lately how much it sucks to be sick? It's official ... the cold, that is. I've got one.
This bodes well for my job interview tomorrow. Every time I've interviewed for a job, and been, shall we say, not myself, I've been offered the job. For my very first job interview at the martial arts magazines, I was tired, a little nauseous, and so hung over. (I didn't get home until 3:30 a.m., and the interview was 75 minutes of driving away, at 9 a.m.) I got there a little early, and slept for about 15 minutes in the parking lot before the interview. I have no idea what makes being hung over, or being sick (which is what I was for every other interview ... honest), an attractive prospect to my potential employers, but there it is. Like I said though, this cold is a (somewhat!) welcome development for this interview. It's like my own weird, awful, little good-luck charm.

Pretty waterfall unconnected to post

Well, as of tonight, I have declared SHENANIGANS on Airborne. I've been hopped up on the stuff for three days now, and tonight, I officially feel like I've caught the cold. We shall call it The Family Cold. The Family Cold has settled into the back of my throat, where I can feel it festering, as well as into my nose, thereby causing the sneezing and the occasional runniness. This is pissing me off. Mainly, because with Sydney still coughing and running at the nose, I don't feel comfortable spending the night with my favorite sickness friend, NyQuil. Tomorrow, it will be worse. But at least during the day, I can take my DayQuil.
Also, I got another call on my resume yesterday, from a publishing company in town here looking for an editor. It's actually right up my alley, and exactly what I do. The guy who called tentatively scheduled my interview for Friday, but since he was traveling today, I wasn't able to solidify with him. He'll call me back tomorrow, I'm sure. Ack! The right job at the right time?
I hope Sydney is feeling well enough to go to school tomorrow. I would love the additional hours to sleep once I get back home after dropping her off. I can't decide if I would really do that, or just be awake and dick around the house for the time she's in school, but even fantasizing about sleeping for those hours is relaxing.

L O S T returns!!

One of my most favorite television addictions returned to my house this evening. Yes, I speak of Lost, one of the coolest shows ever. Honestly. I was telling Brian that it will be cool, when we're old and just the two of us again, to watch Lost, season by season, one after another, all in consecutive order. Then, we'd be able to catch all the little things that I know we miss over the course of a seasonal break on the show. And we'll (hopefully) notice the other stuff that we should have noticed. Or the stuff that we think we noticed but got wrong.
At any rate, I am completely and utterly sucked into the show again, and I am so crazy eager for next Tuesday that my heart is skipping beats. I love, love, love knowing that answers are on the way, and that the show will come to a satisfyingly awesome conclusion in a matter of months. (Actually, that may prove to be a bummer as that day gets closer.)
Knowing how it all ends is a fantastic thing. I can't wait!!

We will be together soon, my darlings

I hate it when the entire household is sick in some way. The only totally healthy (for now) beings in my home are myself and Daisy. Brian came home from Boston with a cold and sketchy voice. Sydney's runny nose has compounded into a full-scale cold, with the added nastiness of a cough. And Oliver has what appears to be an ear infection, but what may end up being something in his ear that shouldn't be in there. So tomorrow, Sydney stays home from school, and we both take Ollie to the vet.
This morning, I bulked up on the Airborne. This is a tactic that I consider to be like shenanigans, but one that I also subscribe to religiously when I don't want to get sick. Sadly, it almost never fends off an actual cold, nor does it make the affliction last any fewer days. All in all, my conviction to Airborne is rock solid, though not entirely unclouded.
Twice a day I'll commit myself to its shady science though, until I too catch what Brian and Sydney are throwing around. Then, I'll just be miserable. And dependent on NyQuil and DayQuil. Gotta love the guys at Vick's. Now, that's some doctoring I can count on!