Wuzzles In Respiratory Distress

beowabbit and I both are suffering from post-cold symptoms so severe that we sound like Victorian tuberculosis patients. If you'd been at rehearsal for War of the Worlds last night, you would have been led to believe that the Martians had brought an aggressive alien strain of consumption to Earth.* And this is post-cold; Wabbit suggested in text message that I may have contracted a second and additional strain, as I was a bit worse off than him last night (a reversal of the way things have been for the last two weeks). The over-the-counter meds are being taken liberally, and we expect to be well for performance next weekend. Still, yuck and ouch.

The weird thing is that the rest of our bodies aren't affected the way our poor respiratory systems are. I'm about to go do several hours of yard work and am looking forward to it on this beautiful autumn day. You'd think I'd want to be abed, but I don't at all. I just want to stop coughing, sneezing and blowing my poor chapped nose.


_{* Whether you're coming to the show or not, read the H. G. Wells novel. Microbes are mighty.}

Unlucky Star

Having just tried Lucky Star Chinese take-out (Medford) for the first time, I can't recommend it. If I ever have to order from them again it will be vegetarian only. They seem to think that the thing to do with gelatinous hunks of pork gristle is to dye them red and put them in the egg foo young and fried rice. I like putting my Chinese food in a cereal bowl and mixing it all together, which I did, but I repeatedly had to reach inside my mouth to fish out gnarls of rubbery gristle (in Chinese culture, sticking your fingers in your mouth is the grossest thing you can do, so they shouldn't have made me do exactly that). I don't think there was one piece of actual flesh meat in there.

I was raised on skank-a-licious Chinese-American food so I know what yummy comfort food it can be. Lucky Star's food was not.