So until Veronica Mars Season 2 comes out on DVD (August 22, mark your calendars!), Sugar Daddy and I are constantly searching for other stuff to watch on our television, because heaven knows, we must be entertained. So our latest hobby is the first season of House.  For something that isn’t a serial drama, that show is highly addictive.  SD thinks it’s going to make him a hypochondriac.  Well, we finished the first eight episodes, so I went to the Blockbuster to get the next eight episodes and…they were gone!  Some other stupid TV-addicted crapface got there first.  Curses!  I looked for something else to rent, but all the movies out on DVD right now are lame.  I thought about trying another television series on DVD–because goodness knows we miss a lot of TV on TV–but nothing was appealing to me.  Nip ‘n Tuck?  Eh.  The L Word?  Hmmmm…no.  The Sopranos?  Pass.  First season of Medium?  Saw it.  CSI?  I can watch that any day of the week.  For the forty-seventh time I considered 24, since it’s supposed to be a good show for right-wing wackos like me, but I can’t ever get past the fear that all those split screens and constant doing doing doing and hello, is anyone going to take a nap or have a snack or anything?–I’m afraid it would just drive me crazy.  So no, for the forty-seventh time, no.  So I went home empty-handed, and SD and I were reduced to watching the first season of The Office with the commentary track on.  Not that it wasn’t entertaining.  Well, it could have been more so, I suppose, but at least we were interacting with the television and not with each other.  (You know how it is.)

So the next morning I woke up and was feeling quite ill.  So ill that I could not stand to be vertical–ha!  get it?  No, seriously, I was just dizzy and nauseated and all I could stand, or rather, bear to do was lie down and be asleep.  SD tried to figure out what was wrong with me.  We knew it couldn’t be African Sleeping Sickness because neither of us had been to Africa or had an affair with someone who’d been to Africa.  It wasn’t anything I’d eaten because I ate the same stuff all the other non-sick people in the house had been eating.  It seemed obvious that I was suffering from House withdrawal.  But if that was the case, why wasn’t SD showing any symptoms?  I would have gone ahead and treated me empirically for House withdrawal anyway, except that we couldn’t stinking find House at the Blockbuster!  So back to the drawing board.  Eventually I hit upon the only variable not shared by other members of the household:

We had all gone to the Big Satan Company Picnic the day before, but I was the only one who used the complimentary Big Satan Glitter Sunscreen!  I must have been poisoned by all that sticky sparkly-ness.  So I took a shower and I felt much better.  Another medical tragedy averted.

Okay, so maybe I was just tired.  I knew I couldn’t be on an episode of House anyway, because I never had a seizure.  People on that show are always having seizures.  It’s like you’re not sick in their world unless you get a seizure at some point.  But I quibble.

Anyway, only seven days until we can watch Veronica Mars Season 2.  Don’t tell me what happens!

Elvis demands that I fry an egg.  More to the point, he’s holding the dental floss hostage and threatening to rip it all out and carpet my bedroom floor with it unless I fry him an egg, so it’s off to fry an egg I go.  Happy Tuesday.  (If you see Episodes 9-16 of House at a Blockbuster in the Portland area, don’t rent it!  It’s waiting for me.)