Deja Flu

"Dottie had a heart condition, and she DIED."

I don't deny Swine Flu is real, or that it poses a considerable threat. There are conspiracy theorists out there that believe this is a vaccination readiness beta test, or just a full-on hoax, the same people that believe the Y2K scare and Avian Flu were just media conspiracies to frighten the unsuspecting population.

However, the outbreak of viral news about Swine Flu is certainly spreading quicker than the actual virus, which got me thinking... it easier to create a fear of a pandemic because of rapid advancement in public media?

The video above is allegedly real, from all accounts, and from 1976, when an outbreak of Swine Flu caused a mass governmental vaccination, where the vaccination caused more death and medical issues than the actual flu outbreak (1 man died from the flu, 500 people were diagnosed with Guillain-Barre, ending in 25 deaths), according to NPR.

Is the fear of the flu spreading faster than the condition ever will? When news with questionable sources can be broadcast on the internet in seconds, what measures can be taken to urge caution?

On the Road Again...

I will be leaving for Cincinnati for Singlefest with the BFF tomorrow, so I'll be blogless for a while. Rest assured I'll have updates when I get back on Wednesday!

Until then, remember that Cupid rhymes with stupid.

Kisses, Birv

Don't Sweat the Petty Things... Don't Pet the Sweaty Things: The Ballad of Bikram Yoga

ZOMG last night was the worst night ever. I tried Bikram Yoga, or Hot Yoga, for the very first time in my life, and I am now thoroughly convinced that the practice was invented by the Devil.

Entering the work space is an experience. Imagine every well-groomed, dissatisfied trust-fundian DeadHead you've ever met in one room encased in designer sportswear and you pretty much have the experience. This is not to say that your classmates aren't kind. On the contrary- Bikram followers are full of love. It was a very huggy crowd. Everyone was very present, man. Present and nearly nude!! Short shorts and sports bras were quite the fashion... for everyone except me. Tank top and yoga pants, my friends! This girl doesn't shed for strangers unless plied with liquor. George, my fellow first-timer, said he felt like we had unwittingly signed up for some sort of sex party.

Entering the workout room is like walking into someone's mouth- except that mouth is full of other sweaty people. The picture above is accurate- there were like 40 people in this room. One hundred ten degrees, 50% humidity... what was I thinking?? I hate the heat, I hate exercising, and this is far too much bodily fluid to be splashed with from people I'm not sleeping with, that's for sure. I have never sweated so much in my life... and that was before I laid my mat down.

I was holding my own for a good 30 minutes of the 90 minute session... then the room started to swimming. Rather than pass out in front of all these yogis, I left to sit outside- big mistake. The rapid change in temperature from 110 degrees to 70 was a little too much... get ready for it- I TOTALLY PUKED, YOU GUYS!!!

Super love it. So after puking all over the floor of the bathroom at the yoga place, I did what any veteran puker does, I high-tailed it out of there. Shortly before I did, I had a conversation with one of the receptionist/yogis, Willow? Wheatgrass? Something herbal, anyway. She was very sweet. She explained that the heat is what most first-timers have the toughest times with, and that this was my body's way of telling me it needs this, and encouraged me to re-enter the room when I was ready, I would feel such calm if I did! Some salesgirl.

Luckily for me, Haybale left, so my pukey pants and I were able to flee with some semblance of dignity. Stumbling dizzily to my car, I did feel a sense of something- peace, quasi-dehydrated drunkenness, who knows... but I did feel good. Until I found a ticket on my car. GRRRR! So now thirty minutes of literal hell on earth has cost me $80.

I also have a bruise on my ass from falling down the sheet of ice that were the sidewalks last night while walking Daisy... I had to roll over to the grass because I kept slipping when I tried to get up. Ah, my glamorous life.

So I've been considering it- feeling stupid for ever thinking my Scottish constitution could handle the heat, I am facing eating the $30 for the month trial and realizing the end of my dreams of being a shapely yogini (and possibly facing the end of my hopes to travel to India- do they have air conditioning there?), or I try getting back on the horse once more. Grassy Knoll told me that the first time is the hardest, and that now I've been through it, I wouldn't notice it the next time. Do I believe her? Do I risk puking again? It's a general rule I have to avoid things that make me throw up at all costs. Well- that's a lie. I do still drink, after all. Here's the crazy part- the competitive, masochistic cheap-ass in me is almost considering going back to the class...I paid $30 and I couldn't finish one class? BALLS!

Seriously... when am I going to get better?

Evil "death illness" has now turned into a lingering chest and head cold... complete with dribbling nose. SOOOO attractive. I feel better though- perhaps sleeping all day over the weekend helped, rather than just making me feel like a bored shut-in loser. Thanks to big brother and sis-in-law for having me over last night! Chicken Kiev! woo! Though I think Jenny Craig would probably frown on deep fried chicken swimming in a garlic butter sauce. It was so f-ing great though.

Winehouse Watch has an update! Naturally. I really want to see the E! True Hollywood Story for her... maybe a Lifetime Movie? Having re-enactments of her nightmare would be simply delightful. So what's new on the Winehouse Watch? Miss Amy was checked into the hospital again- rumors are for rehab (from which she escaped after two days last time), but her publicist says is for a "chest infection" (READ: her lungs have actually turned into Crystal Meth).

That being said, I watched some great movies on Netflix Round-up. I watched Penelope (a sadly under-developed story about a pig-faced girl... something about self-esteem), The Good Night, a convoluted story about dreams vs. reality, written and directed by Jake Paltrow (Gwyneth's bro), The Band's Visit and, courtesy of big bro and sis-in-law we got a freebie, Smart People.

The two most worthwhile films were The Band's Visit and Smart People, two movies about isolation and the necessity of human interaction, something that really resonated for me this lonely, quarantined weekend.

The Band's Visit, a Cannes Film Festival winner, is a short film about an Egyptian police band that gets lost for a night in the wrong town in Israel. The town is tiny, isolated, and completely devoid of music and art, the things that create, as the story is stressing to point out, life. Housed for the night by some quiet, reticent Israeli families, people from these two cultures are forced to interact, and humanity prevails. yay!

Smart People, featuring Dennis Quaid, Ellen Page and an increasingly severe-looking Sarah Jessica Parker proves that no man is an island, no matter how hard he tries to push people away. Quaid and his daughter, Ellen Page, cover up their grief over losing their wife and mother through intellectual snobbery. Their snide remarks and percieved intellectual superiority are a safe and off-putting way to avoid interaction with just about everyone, until Quaid's adopted brother (Thomas Haden Church), an eternal slacker, and love-interest Sarah Jessica Parker shows up and forces the family out of their ivory tower.

While I appreciate the fact that this movie did NOT go for stereotypes (Stick in the Mud professor falls for Free Spirit doctor!), some relationships weren't wholly developed, and Quaid's son in the film seems to be present merely to advance the plot. Still, both movies were well worth watching, and make you feel all warm and fuzzy.

Damn the little petri dishes.

I hate being sick. Let me re-phrase that. I LOATHE being sick, with the burning intensity of 10,000 suns.

Feeling moderately oogie, in which one can still enjoy a peaceful day at home watching movies, is ok. Being huddled in the center of your couch wearing every sweatshirt you can find, under two blankets praying that the vicoden you scrounged up will take effect so that you can fall asleep and not have to think about swallowing because it hurts sucks big donkey balls.

Such was the past two days for me. Today, while I feel better, I still feel crappy, and I'd rather like being at home and sleeping. Not in the stars. One still needs to keep gainfully employed.

The alarming thing, mom, sis-in-law and I all had the same thing, at the same time. Since we were all at the same party on Sunday and got sick at the same time on Tuesday, I'm blaming the little petri dishes, aka the nieces. Particularly the one that wanted to blow her nose on my shirt, for some unknown reason. I'd like to think that she didn't, because I told her that was beyond gross, but who knows? She's six. I wouldn't put it past her.

Along with passing in and out of sleepy consciousness, I suffered a fairly devastating TV blow yesterday. I opened my digital TV converter box and read the instructions, only to find out that the stupid thing won't work with Tivo... the whole reason I got it, since I do in fact have a digital TV. *GASP!* I should have realized that when my dad gave me the Tivo it would have a limited term of use.

God love him, the man has never given me a gift of his own volition that was something that hasn't become obsolete and replaced in his own home... my first computer (Windows 3.1) and the enormous bag phone I recieved for my high school graduation, both of which he asked me to return at the end of summer (ironic, since the phone was supposed to be my safeguard for trips to and from school in St. Louis), the digital camera that takes no more than 6 pictures, and most recently the analog Tivo box that will go dark with the digital conversion in February. It's the thought that counts, I suppose. You have to smile at the effort.

Until February, I will use my Tivo with gratitude. It taped Pushing Daisies for me this Wednesday, which was appreciated, since I was finally passed out by that point. Good show this week... on the naughty side!! I appreciate more and more that while the show is sweet and unassuming, there is a subversive current to it that tempers what could too often be saccharine. It's what I love most about Bryan Fuller's shows. There's a lot of hope and positivity in his shows, tempered with a matter-of-fact view of death, pain and emotion. I think I love Olive's character the most, as main characters go. Perhaps it is the fact that I too have felt the pang of unrequited love so many times before (college was hell- Tyson, Steve, I have forgotten neither of you). I think it is more likely that I love her perpetually perky demeanor that covers that slightly snarky core.

Best lines of the week:

Emerson: "I'll be dental dammed."
Callista Cod: "With a girl like that you probably should be."

Chuck:"I thought you were supposed to be my king-sized duvet of comfort!"
Ned: "Selfishly, I would duvet you right here and now if I could".