Goo, sorry for the huge delay on this meme - the flu makes me very, very procrastinatious (Ok, so I made up that word).

Comment and I will....

a) Tell you why I friended you.

b) Associate you with something -- a fandom, song, color, photo, etc.

c) Tell you something I like about you.

d) Tell you a memory I have of you.

e) Ask you something I've wanted to know about you.

f) Tell you my favorite userpic from your list.

g) In return, you need to post this on your own LJ (unless you have already done so, of course).

Yeay!

I spontaneously started crying out of happiness. I like this guy. I'm a cynic, but I hope he does what he says he can. I am just so glad that the nation overwhelmingly rejected the ultra conservative values that are dividing our nation and fostering hate. At least in terms of the senate and president.

Now, excuse me, I'm going to go bash my head on the desk because it looks like all the props I voted for in my home-state are going the opposite way that I voted.

Ok, just let Calvin Goings not be elected, and I'll consider local elections somewhat salvaged.

I'm totally voting for Obama. I like Biden. Do I wish he had chosen Hillary as VP? Yes, but I knew he wouldn't, since she had that dust up with her campaign manager who went to the Obama camp. But at least I really like Biden's voting record.

On a side note, though, I said this before, and I'll say it again: Obama's health care plan sucks*. This is coming from a girl who grew up in her dad's pediatric office, working with her mother who did all of the business management and billing. His health care plan sucks. Not that McCain's is any better, it's not, but I can't really get fully behind Obama with this crap, "I'm in the pocket of insurance companies" health care plan (and he really is in the pocket of health insurance companies, as much as he says he's not). I hope he figures out an alternative, and fast.

Here are my major problems with it:

Buried in his policies on health care is a note on how they will insure quality health care from doctors by rewarding doctors who do things the right way and have positive outcomes. This has two problems:

1) Who decides what the "right way" is to do something, or what means a doctor is doing something correctly? My dad hired a young practitioner from back east. She came from clinic where the insurance companies forced them to have to prove they were doing things "right." This meant that, in reality, rather than trust her own judgment, she order tons and tons of lab tests - test she knew really wouldn't be necessary, but were necessary to leave a paper trail that showed she was doing it right. This wasn't just incredibly annoying to the patients, who felt it meant she didn't know anything, but it also drove up our costs - and the insurance company's costs- considerably. Plus, there are many "right ways" decided on by drug companies and insurance companies that really aren't so right. For example, you may have XYZ disease, which can be treated with drug 1, 2, and 3. For children, drug 3 is really the best because of certain factors, for adults with heart problems, drug 2 is best, and for otherwise healthy adults, drug 1 is best. But the drug and insurance companies will get together and pass policies that say doctors must use drug 1 on ALL patients with XYZ disease, period, and if they don't, then they are a "Bad doctor." (which, by the way, happened in my home town. Then, the insurance companies published a list of all "bad doctors" and mailed it to everyone in the town. Then, they refused to publish why the doctors were bad. Then it came out that doctors were bad for not prescribing certain medicines, which, incidentally, were the medicines that the insurance had deals on. Instead, the doctors were prescribing different, more expensive medicines.)

2) What is an "optimal outcome," or a "positive outcome"? The layman will say, "A patient who lives and is healthy." But in medicine, is that always possible? People are born with heart defects. People get terminal brain cancer. People get strange strains of tuberculosis that may or may not be treatable. These people do not have optimal outcomes. Really, what they want is a doctor who has time and energy to invest in making sure they have the right treatments to prolong their lives as much as possible, and make sure they are comfortable and healthy as possible. So what happens when they are placed in an optimal outcome situation?

They get dumped.

Outcome-based medicine is blind to the reality of the situation--it only sees the black and white numbers, who lives, who dies, and how much money did you spend on them. When outcome-based medicine reigns, practical doctors see that people with poor outlooks are a liability and they dump them as patients. It's terrible, but look at it from the doctor's point of view: He has to pay overhead for the practice, he has to pay malpractice insurance, and, until he's reimbursed from the government or insurance companies, he has to pay for all of the treatments for the patient out of his own pocket. If a patient doesn't have a positive outcome, the doctor will not be reimbursed as much - he will be lucky to break even, and mostly likely lose money on a patient with a poor outcome. Is it fair for the doctor to invest time, energy, and money into a patient with no prospect of reimbursement? No. But it's not fair for the patient not to get treatment, either. How would you feel if you got cancer, and went to the doctor, and the doctor wouldn't take you because they didn't feel your outlook was good and they had enough cancer patients already? What if your doctor wanted to treat you, but the clinic he was working for forbid him from doing so?

Outcome based medicine is something insurance companies want because they do not want to pay the costs of health care for patients with big problems. They'd rather doctors shunted these patients around until they died. It's horrible, but it's true. It's common practice for insurance companies to dick people around until they die, so they don't have to pay for chemotherapy or whatever other high-cost treatment the person needs.

Outcome based reimbursement for medicine is not "change," it's "death."

Today we had to say good-bye to a beloved cat, Sweet Pea.

( Read more... )

Now, normally I don't deign to review music. I like music. Nay, I heartily enjoy music. But I don't have that obsessive fanaticism that tends towards over-analyzation that some have. For example, I rarely derive enjoyment from improvisational or avant garde crap music.

But once in a while, an album comes along that is just ... just ... such an album of a singer.

Ashley Tisdale's Headstrong is one such album. An album. Featuring a singer.

Admittedly, I know I am not Ms. Tisdale's target audience. I am over eighteen, I disliked "High School Musical," and I'm a rational human being. Still, though, I thought, "I'll give it a shot. I like new music!"

Then I listened to this album. And I realized: I am old. Because the first thought that ran through my head was: "These effing kids think this is MUSIC?!"

There are no words that can effectively describe the utterly scarring yet delicious awful-ness of this album and how it panders to adolescent girls. But I'm going to try.

Vocals: Come on, she's a Disney contract-star, you know what to expect. Sugary sweet, not particularly talented nor offensive. Solidly "ehn." Disney picks them that way on purpose. They want them not to be "too talented" just like they want them not to be "too attractive." That way, average girl on the street looks at the contract-star and thinks, "Hey, that could be me!" And immediately forms a deep attraction to the person akin to the one formed between that most powerful girl groups, the Sorority Three.

(You know the Sorority Three, the classic group consists of the "would be darling if not for ten-fifteen extra pounds" girl, the "pretty except for one strange feature" girl, and "kind of cute but really just rich" girl. This trio of friends is seen repeated in girl-land all the time.)

Disney is very smart. If the contract-star was attractive AND talented, that would kill her popularity. Teen girls HATE any girl with the nerve to be prettier or more talented them, it's a proven fact. That's why the Sorority Three works so well. Each girl has reason to believe that SHE is the prettiest of the trio. Thus the girls remain friends without engaging in the jealousy that typically rips girl groups apart. Well played, Disney, well played.

Lyrics: Oh my god. No cliche' goes unexplored. No rhyming opportunity unexploited. No metaphor un-beaten to death. Some few choice examples:

"We'll be together so don't ever
Stop listening to your heart
Cause I can't turn mine off
Oh (yeah, yeah) oh"
("We'll Be Together")

(Get it? She can't stop listening to her heart because she can't turn it off--as though the heart is a radio one must listen to.)

"All the girls in the club got their eyes on me
They put me down because of their jealousy
But I'm not, not I'm not that girl
And it's not, not, no, it's not my world"
("Not Like That")

Song arrangement: Hilariously contradictory yet still somewhat apt. One song says, "Don't you dare/touch me there/if you want to get somewhere" ("Don't Touch, aka, the Zoom Song," no, I didn't make that up) another track a few songs down talks about being so hot for a boy that they're going to rock together all night, nudge nudge, wink wink! ("He Said, She Said")

Is there a message here? Why, yes. Teen girls are complicated. They are discovering their sexuality. They want to explore it the way they see older women on TV doing. BUT, the world tells them good girls don't have sex as teens! and be yourself! but also you want boys to like you! and boys will only like you if you have sex with them! so they're getting mixed messages all over the place and their brain has no way of processing it, thanks to hormones and periods.

So I guess the CD presents an accurate representation, I guess, of what the average teen girl goes through:

"I want to fool around with you 'cause it's fun! Oh wait, does that make me a bad person? I'm not a bad person. Get away you freak! Wait, why won't you hang out with me? You only hang out 'cause you want sex! AGH ALL THE OTHER GIRLS HATE ME 'CAUSE I'M SO CUTE AND POPULAR!"

Oh, wait, that last was just Ashley Tisdale's personal input, which can be heard in at least three of the songs ("Not Like That" being one of them).

I'd like to say this album is a guilty-pleasure. None of the songs are really that offensive. They're just pure tripe. Actually, more like soylent green: a regurgitated and recycled product more manufactured than artistic and ultimately meant to poison young minds. Or am I getting my movies mixed up again? Anyhoo, guilty-pleasure? No. Sad commentary on the state of the female adolescent today? Yes.

Better Guilty Pleasure Album: Music and Lyrics. My favorite awful song being "Entering Bootytown". Which, if you have a dirty mind, takes on a whole new level of awfulness.

Grrr! Computer dying! Despite $80 investment in new ram! I is forced to back up to gmail, out of fear dead computer will drag my files down with it.

Grrr! Doll lady broke my dolly when she was supposed to fix it! Now she not want to own up to breaking dolly! Want me to pay even more money in postage! Now I have to buy new dolly, but it costs more money because it only available on eBay! Grr! I has to be on phone with passive agressive lady lots! I WANT REIMBURSEMENT! I WANT MY DOLLY THAT WHICH I HAVE SENTIMENTAL ATTACHMENT TO IN THE HEARTS!

Grrr! Writer's strike make it awkward to query agents and leave me confused! Just when do you become a scab? I not get paid by agent if I sign with him/her. That OK, right? I likes unions.

Grrr! I has to clean house!

Grrr! Computer not want to run screenwriting program and play music at same time. WTF, computer, I just gave you $80 in new ram!

Grrr! Heroes ruins all characters and makes me wish I had never invested time in the show. Heroes writers need to watch Battlestar Gallactica. That how REAL character development is written! Extra points for conflict that stems from opposing goals, rather than just stupidity.

Grrr! Mom pointed out that Sam and Dean talk like girls, now that's all I can hear when I watch Supernatural! Grrr, bad mommy making subconscious suggestions to me! It only highlights how very much un-like brothers Sam and Dean are!

Yay, I get to go home for Thanksgiving and don't have to fly!

Yay, I gets to play laser tag with all my friends tomorrow and eat cake!

Yay, Paul's family gave me a cool present! They do like me!

Yay, I found a JLU Orion toy online for reasonable price!

Unfortunately, the Grrrs have exceeded the Yays on today's episode of Genevieve speaks in an annoying fashion. Please tune in later, when she attempts to write about her experiences in high school in an exagerrated French Canadian accent and annoys you even further.

Hee hee, I saw this headline and thought it was funny.

Obama chides Clinton for playing gender card

Pot, kettle, anyone, anyone? HOW many times has Obama referenced his race? I've honestly lost count. But I bet you could start a drinking game based on his early speeches.

Not that either person playing the race or gender card bothers me that much. Why? Because, a) I personally know that one's race and/or gender does not make one more or less equipped to perform a certain job and b) Because one thing that DOES effect your leadership styles and abilities are past experiences that have shaped who you are today. And I'll be damned if race and gender both don't lead to certain life experiences. *

So, for Hillary to say "going to an all girls' school prepared me for dealing with the boys' club of politics later on in life" is a valid statement. I've seen girls - they're nasty. Attending an all-girls school scares the bejuses cripes out of me. If Hillary could survive and flourish there, I have no doubt she could parley with the scariest world leaders. Because the scariest world leaders have probably never experienced secret three-way-phone calls and the havoc one can wreak with them.

I think to ignore either race or gender in this election is to talk around the elephant in the room. Say it, democrats, just say it! You're afraid that if Hillary wins, a bunch of chauvanists won't vote for her and dems will lose the election by default. That's fine, that's a valid worry because we all know there's no shortage of sexists both male and female.** But here's the thing: most the male chauvanists I've met also tend to be lazy***. And lazy people generally forget to vote. And the female - against - female sexist people I've met tend to believe women shouldn't vote, and so won't vote themselves. So it becomes a moot point what they think anyways.

Anyhow, I forgot what I was going with this ... Oh, right, don't beat up on Hillary because she had the gal to mention she was a woman. Beat up on her because her health care plan sucks.

* I remember quite clearly the day I walked off the field from a YMCA girls' soccer game, wearing only a team t-shirt, past the (same age) boys who had fully matching real uniforms, matching cleats, and matching equipment. I asked the supervisors why the girls couldn't have matching equipment and was told, "None of the parents on the girls team would pay for it." That might very well have been true (which brings up its own issues) but the real point was - no one ever asked the parents of the girls' team if they wanted matching stuff - they just assumed they wouldn't. I realized at that point that people would always assume sports were not important to girls as other things, and that would be reinforced time and time again. That is an example of how my gender effected my history and outlook on life.

* * God, there's one girl on the AG board - don't get me started. Apparently, having a career violates the sanctity of motherhood - don't ask me how - and women shouldn't go to school, because they're women, but then on the other hand they are expected to home school their male children until college. Explain to me how that works?

* * * eg, male business students who say, "I don't have to do that, when I'm in the real world, my secretary will do it for me!"

Tedium thou art mine foe.

Did you know that the story synopsis you would prepare for, say, a screenplay and that you'd send to, say, a literary agent are totally different beasts?

Now you do. I admit, I was dumb for not looking this up earlier but when I was putting my agent package together I was happy thinking that having tackled the query letter (it's catchy AND informative!) and triple-checking my first fifty pages for submission I was done with the brunt of the work. After all, didn't the query letter kind of serve as a synopsis? Ha ha ha! Maybe in the magical land of film submission, where shorter is better. But in the literary world, a synopsis is actually a full synopsis and, get this, 1 page equals 25 pages of your novel (but is that your intended actual novel length, or manuscript length? I haven't figured that out yet). The long and short of it is that I need to read my book - I can recite it by heart, but not by chapter breaks - again and break each chapter into bullet points and then write essentially one paragraph per chapter (wait a second - does that even make sense if a page equals twenty-five pages which is approximately two chapters?) in the third-person present tense that still shows off your unique and special writing style. Which is my least favorite tense, by the way. I'm up to chapter sixteen, in bullet points at least, but I got distracted by MySpace - not MySpace itself, but making my MySpace page all pretty so I can win the unspoken challenge to have the best MySpace page EVER! (Ignoring the fact that I only have ten MySpace friends). Alas, there's always tomorrow for more tedium.

Ok, I'm over the vet anger, more or less. I still think the vet was an idiot, but I am going to follow Fred's advice if I do do anything (eg, if she takes a turn for the worse again). I also decided that a little common sense would probably go a long way in helping the cat. According to what I read, the disease she has is incurable anyways, so all I can do is treat it and make sure it doesn't send her downhill.

So, after smearing nutri-cal on her face (It's so hard to be the bad guy, but the dang thing has to get protein some how) first I sat with her in the bathtub for a half hour with the humidifier going inside (this way I could keep the fumes in the immediate area) and made sure to clean up the resultant snot. The humidifier must have worked because she started actually breathing through her nose (hurray!) and the next day she started to eat a lot - and I mean, a LOT. She's up to about three cans of food a day right now, divided up into six meals. She starts acting better after every visit with the humidifier, and I'm hoping she gets used to it enough that she doesn't need Paul or I sitting in the bathroom with her.

Then there are her other problems... Because the vet mentioned she had arthritis, I looked online at cat vitamins for senior cats and noticed a lot of them include glucosamine - which is used to treat arthritis in humans. This, I happen to have on hand thanks to my own aches and pains (thanks, high school high-hurdles!) so I took one of those pills, took about 1/8th of it, and chunked it into powder and mixed it into her food, along with a healthy amount of Benefiber, which is god's gift to man kind being as it dissolves really quickly and is tasteless.

The end result? She's gained about a pound, eats much more, isn't nearly as snotty, and is acting much healthier. She's even curling her back. And it's hilarious, by the way, to see Harley, who is more than twice Sweetpea's size, to try and bully Sweetpea. Harley will get into Sweetpea's face and try and keep her from going wherever she wants to go. Sweetpea just looks at her and pushes right on through and Harley's left there looking like, "Why won't she listen to me? I'm BIGGER!" She does the same to Indiana whenever he tries to eat her food - she just pushes him away. And Indiana is three times bigger than her.

So, my BF and I recently acquired a cat. She belonged to my aunt, but my aunt has to be in the hospital for an extended period of time. My aunt's roommate was not taking very good care of the cat, so we agreed to take her and now my aunt wants us to keep her since a) She's not going to be out of the hospital until at least December and b) She's probably going to move out of state at that point to be with other family members.

The cat is a sweetheart. I mean, just a doll. Her name is Sweetpea and it really fits. However, it was clear she had some major health issues - she was extremely skinny, would barely eat anything, sneezed often, and threw up after over-eating. We first got the cat a month ago. I had to leave soon after to take my car up to Washington to get fixed (long story) but my live-in boyfriend was going to take Sweetpea to the vet ASAP to determine what her problems were, exactly (ie, to rule out major feline diseases) and if she was contagious to our other cats (we kept them separated, initially).

The vet's answer was that Sweetpea was just old - late teens, probably. She wanted to run more tests - a blood test, x-ray, and MRI. We had her run the blood test and x-ray. The blood test showed (according to the vet) that Sweetpea had no communicable diseases and the x-ray showed she was cancer-free. The only problem the vet could find, she said, was that she had slightly inflamed bowels that may or may not have been caused by a parasite but she wouldn't know without running even MORE tests. Now, by this point, I am running out of money. My main questions are answered: She has no contagious diseases, doesn't need any medication (beyond vitamins), and if she does have a parasite we can probably take care of it with over the counter medication. Right? Wrong.

At the vet, we specifically asked about Sweetpea's sneezing and runny nose. The vet said that it was normal, that it would go away in time and that it might be allergies.

More than two weeks later, and her sneezing has gotten worse. She has mucus that regularly needs to be cleaned off of her face and because she can't smell, she doesn't want to eat. She has good days and bad days but today was particularly bad so I went online and googled "Cat sneezing," and from what I've been reading it sounds like Sweetpea has feline herpes (different than human herpes) a recurring upper resperitory infection that not only can make her miserable (as it is!) but is ALSO highly contagious and un-curable! Which means my other two cats probably have it by now, too!

I'm so angry! We asked the vet about the sneezing directly, we asked for a full physical for the dang cat, we specifically stated we wanted to make sure she had nothing contagious, why didn't she test for this, too? It's obvious this cat had a rough life prior to us, and feline herpes is apparently very common in shelter cats. I know I should have probably gone online and done research earlier, but my life has been really crazy lately and I thought I could (gasp) actually trust the dang vet to do their dang job.

I don't know what to do with the cat. Should I take her back to the same vet? Should I try a new vet? We aren't made of money. We've already spent a couple hundred apparently fruitless dollars on this cat, not counting vitamins, specialty cat food, etc. etc. I feel like going to the vet, presenting her with her oversight, and demanding she prescribe the appropriate medications and not charge me for the visit. Would this be appropriate? I'll admit I might be a little biased since I just spent an hour forcing cat food and benadryl into an animal who wanted nothing to do with either and then running after her as she spewed snot and saliva EVERYWHERE.

Le sigh.

So near, and yet, so far.

Not supporting Hillary in '08. Switched to Edwards. Why? She just released her plan for "rescuing" (quotes intended) health care in the US.

Long story short:

"Everyone's problems can be solved by creating more insurance and forcing people, and small companies, to buy it."

Yeah. Insurance. That's exactly what this country needs more of right now. Thanks, Hil, for telling me that the problem is not that insurance companies are using unethical business practices to force doctors and hospitals to accept poor rates, thus jacking up the cost of private care - but that people just aren't buying insurance enough. Stunning insight, stunning.

It's taken me weeks to post about this, because, literally, it made me so so angry. Rather than describe the depths of my fury myself, however, I think I will let a classic film quote speak for me.

"I hated her so much! It, it, the, it, flames, flames, flames . . . on the side of my face. Breathing, breathless, heaving breaths, heaving . . ."

- Mrs. White, Clue

Why what, you ask, could have invited such ire, Genevieve?

Why, the same damn thing that always pisses me off. The god damned f*ing sexist Swiffer commercials! Only Swiffer could think it acceptable to mock the first serious female presidential candidate ever by showing a woman running for office... against a mop and bucket. Here I am, ramming my head on my desk. What is this, 1963? Can someone please tell me who is in charge of their marketing campaign so I can give him/her a nice sound kick in their privates?

And if I find out that anyone on my friends list owns a Swiffer or Swiffer related product, I will personally hunt you down and shove it up your ...

...you get the idea. Just don't buy their products. Personally, I did use one once and it was pretty awful. But if you want one that badly, I'm sure the off-brand is just as good.

"1. List seven habits/quirks/facts about yourself.
2. Tag seven people to do the same.
3. Do not tag the person who tagged you or say that you tag whoever wants to do it."

1) I like to listen to the famous "William Wallace" speech when I'm brainstorming about writing. Repeatedly.
2) I don't think I've ever slept solidly through the night in my entire life. Maybe when I'm sick, that's it.
3) When I dream, 90% of the time the dreams take place in distinctive "dream worlds," that tend to repeat. My dreams never take place in a real city with real geography, but the dream cities remain consistent. For example, in one place, all of the streets are paved in brick, the buildings are brick, and there's an extensive underground mall. But the stores in the mall stay the same from dream to dream.
4) I feel most babies are ugly, with their squashed faces and globs of fat hanging off of everything. Luckily, they grow out of that phase in like, six months.
5) I like traveling but ... I'm not a person who wants to live in New York, or Chicago, or any place like that. I'd like to visit them, but the places I really want to see and visit are small towns in the middle of nowhere (everywhere in the country) where you can get to know people and their way of life. I don't want to be surrounded by people I'll never talk to.
6) I love reading advice columns and hearing about other peoples' real life horror stories - like on etiquettehell.com.
7) I actually like math. Not only that, I'm good at it, too! The more complicated/advanced, the better. I would be an awesome physicist or economist or anything that requires lots of math. But, for some reason, I decided to go the artistic route. Go fig.

 

I forgot to add earlier that my book is now officially finished. This is the point where, beyond maybe some typo fixes if I see them, I'm done. Except maybe the make out scene because it's too cliche--wait, no, I can't do that because I promised myself I'm done! I have to put the damn thing down and step away and say, "you are finished." The final count was 95,000 words, give or take. And all of it story, no filler. So now I have to start sending it off to literary agents, while I work on my spec scripts.

The weird part? I actually miss my characters. As though they are real people who actually exist somewhere, and I got to be part of their life for a while and now I have to say good bye and move to another part of the country, always hearing about what happens to them from a distance. It makes me sad and tearful. Sam started out as so unlikeable, but by the end she was a real person doing her best with real problems. She even had her own sense of humor. Lane was a bit of a know it all who needed to come down a peg, but he was nice in a girly sort of way. I hated Tess (fictional one!) so much I tried to kill her off, but don't you know she forced herself back into the story!

Wanna know makes me cry even harder? I spent six months on this labor of love which I poured blood, sweat and tears into. If I'm lucky, it will net one third of what I'll be paid per 22 page script if I get a job as a writer on a TV show. And writing screenplays means writing dialogue, which is my favorite to write, next to action. Oh, and guess what else you write with screenplays? Um, action. So, basically, it would kick ass. So, actually, I probably won't be crying if I get a job as a writer on a TV show. But if I don't, then I will be.

* * * * *

When it rains, it pours.

Comic-Con pictures I forgot to include in the last post are included below the cut. I included the one with me and Joss Whedon. It's probably not the best picture I ever took, but, hey, it could've been worse. I mean, just look at all of my other pictures, right? Ha ha ha.

( Pictures! )

So, today I was sitting on the couch, watching some TV, when Harley and Indiana run by, playing chase.

"Awww, isn't that cute?" Until Harley ricochets OFF of the wall, back into our living area, leaps on the couch, leaps OVER my face (barely missing gouging my eyes out) and onto the bookshelf and Indy follows the EXACT same route. Terror! Excitement! Life with cats.

I wish someone had told ME this.

Just write the dang thing in manuscript format. It doesn't matter if courier is annoying to read or you "flow" better with block paragraphs (my own experiences) because going back through two hundred some-odd pages reformatting things in Word when word keeps trying to autoformat takes FOREVER.

End advice transmission now.

I can.

Clue #1: Dialogue only, minimal description.
Clue #2: No set up.
Clue #3: Conversational styles are roughly the same. Believe it or not, I have sat down and figured out how each character speaks. It's just that when it's late at night I forget and they all tend to sound the same.

I wrote this scene, but I don't have a place to put it in my story. Yet. Plus, I think it might be one of those things "just" I get. But I had to share, because I'm a sharing girl.

* * *

Lane stood in Sam’s doorway, “I ...Uh. How’s your shoulder? Feel ok?”

Sam rubbed the injury gingerly, testing the stitches, “Yeah, I mean, it’s itchy. But no infection or anything.” She started to scratch her shoulder.

“Yeah, that’s typical of the healing process. Try not to, though, because you might pull your stitches out.”

“All right.”

“I mean, I know sometimes you shouldn’t scratch an itch but you do it anyways.”

”I don’t. I say I’m not going to scratch an itch. I don’t scratch that itch.”

“Not everyone is perfect, you know. Sometimes people scratch itches.”

”I’m not one of them.”

“Well, if you really wanted to scratch an itch, it would be perfectly understandable and probably a relief.”

“Right. I’m closing my door now.” Sam did just that.

“Why are you so mad?” Lane yelled through the door, “I’m just giving you sound medical advice! ”

* * * * *

Yeah. I'm weird.

I AM KILLING THE COMPUTER IN MY HEART AND IN MY MIND.

DIE COMPUTER DIE DIE DIE.

( Gripes lurk beyond said cut. )
Ok, so I just had to moan and whine a bit. Sorry.