We spent the wee hours of Friday night/Saturday morning at the Emergency Room because he was completely unable to walk and as you know, I hate carrying things -- especially people, but mostly rubbermaids and heavy grocery bags. That was an adventure: Carson Daly blaring in my left ear; the misadventures of a woman and her baby's daddy being relayed via cell phone to my right. Within my direct line of sight: A man in a wheelchair moaning, pawing at his own head, and hugging a barf bucket. Please don't let him throw up, I asked of the lord. It's bad enough that the woman in the corner is wearing a half-shirt, when even a triple shirt would be risky.
A few hours later, Chuck left with pills to combat Lyme Disease, confirming what the internet had already told us. Now stuff like this happens:
* Drop him off in front of the movie theater, and I park the car all while wondering if maybe we can get a handicap sticker for the Ford Focus.
* Think about deer ticks, scratching off my top two layers of skin just because I dared to mow the lawn.
* Use the word "crippled" in casual conversation.
* Monitor the swelling of various joints, while using the word "boggy" to describe them.
* Someone -- not naming names -- wandering around with a single crutch pretending he's Dr. House.
Also: My dear friend The Rock Star Amy Abts is skipping town for a new life in Seattle, leaving me all alone in Duluth forever. I'd like to right now link to all of the posts where one of my friends moves far away, but that would take a lot of hours.And by the time I got done thinking about Hank, Baby Blue, Oregon, Futbol, Lil Latrell, the Vixen ... I'd be awash in fresh snot. I'm going to say she's my 25th friend to move in 10 years. I'll be sitting here quietly listening to The Bird and the Bee cover Hall & Oates "She's Gone" and playing memory lane about one of my favorite people on the entire planet earth. Good lucky, Lamer. Enjoy the Bret Easton Ellis book you stole from me! (I kid).
Here is what else I cooked, read and watched this past week:
Ricotta Stuffed Tomatoes: One of my favorite food groups is the "Foods-stuffed-into-another-food" food group. On this episode, ricotta, basil, corn, zucchini, etc., fill a big fat tomato. I really liked it, and it was easy, and I think it could stand alone as an itty bitty dinner.
Black Bean & Toasted Corn Tacos: The extra good yum of this is the corn, toasted in a skillet. I can't remember why this is good. It just is.
"The Human Centipede": In my on-going, life long quest to find things that are disgusting, this movie is the big winner. The one that finally made me think, Perhaps my on-going, life long quest to find things that are disgusting has finally gone too, too far.
The premise: A whacky German scientist has designed a way to create a three-person "human centipede" with linked digestive tracts. Not as grim of a proposition for the lead as it is for the next two in line, who are surgically connected by lips and skin flaps to the butt hole of the -pede person in front of them. He also severs knee tendons to keep them from fully extending their legs. So you have a train of mostly-naked 20-somethings, the lead being Japanese speaking, that is this scientist's pet.
The surgical scenes are no worse than when Dr. Sean McNamara and Dr. Christian Troy yanked cellulite from the thighs of customers on "Nip/Tuck." But the inevitable scene where -pede person No. 1 has to make a No. 2 is, perhaps, the grossest scene I have ever witnessed -- grosser even than anything I could conjure in my dark little brain. I dry heaved at least four times, fully intending to barf. And after the movie, I could not think of a single food item that I would be able to consume, potentially ever. Certainly not refried beans. (Oreo Cakesters were the eventual gateway drug back to real food).
So ... is this movie good? Am I recommending it? Hmm. ... It's hokey. Girls stranded on the side of the road with a flat tire, hokey. And it is funny-ish: Frequent shots of the memorial to the three-dog project the scientist first experimented with. And it's has some pretty terrifying parts, where the spazz-tastic science projects try to escape this calm-with a hair trigger mad man.
Right now I'm reading what is probably going to be my favorite book of 2010, "Anthropology of an American Girl." It's long, and every sentence counts, so I'm giving it the slow-go treatment. This makes me conscious of all of the books I'm not reading while I am licking the pages of this one, and I'm trying to ignore that. I hate when I don't get at least one review a week posted on Minnesota Reads. Grr. That said: "Anthropology of an American Girl" is so, so, so amazing that I'm not sure I ever want to finish it. Maybe I'll finish it next week. Maybe you should read it.