one of them days

That's the movie I had hoped to see today.

Nope!

When I hopped into my car, the battery went: uh uh, uh, uh uh, uh.

Drats.

Fortunately, when I called Smitty, he was in the area and rode to my rescue!

Fortunately, I had the jumper cables, too, as he did not.

He must have left them in his other vehicle... LOL!

My brother even followed me down to what was once Western Auto Parts.

Yes, you can tell a Savannah native from a transplant by the references to businesses that are long gone, but still remembered.

It's now Advance Auto Parts and the young man there tried to steer me to another store that had the same batteries at lower prices, but I demurred.

The price differential at this store included their removal of the old battery and the installation of the new one, with no separate labor fee.

Definitely worth the lesser degree of hassle!

Thanks, Myron, for your help and your efficiency.

On my way again, about $150 poorer than planned for this day, I did so with no music.

Drats.

That loss of battery power for that brief time of exchange between old and new had wiped out all my radio presets, as well as the clock. 

I remembered two of them - WRHQ and I-95 - but the rest shall be found another day.

A check of my phone for time let me know that I'd missed not only the intended movie, but also the backup plan movie.

Drats.

I took the long way to the Publix on Largo, wanting to give the new battery plenty of time to fully charge.

I had a specific goal in mind at that store: paczki.

Tomorrow is Mardi Gras, Shrove Tuesday, whatever one wants to call it, and that is the day to eat those fancy Polish doughnuts.

I was sure this Publix would have them!

Nope.

The clerk in the bakery called the store at Twelve Oaks, and they did have some.

Meanwhile, I spotted some smaller, raspberry-filled treats.

Maybe they would serve as mini-paczki? 

I checked when I arrived home and verified that they would.

Good.

Although the weather was fairly nice today, I didn't want to spend the day bouncing from one grocery store to another.

I had an unexpected visit with the bfe while I was at the Largo store and that had delayed me from returning home.

Why the rush?

I'd planned to have popcorn for lunch with my movie.

The battery adventure had taken more than two hours, meaning it was nearer to dinner time now than to lunch, and I was quite hungry.

Fortunately, I'd spotted Chicken Tikka Masala in the grab-and-go area in the deli while I was chatting with the physicist.

That was very satisfying for my late slunch!

The Indian dish also reminded me of Barbara, as she was always a big fan of that cuisine.

Sandy texted me that a couple from New Jersey bought it, furniture, decor, and all.

That's good; Barbara had spent a lot of time, and money, in the last few years on the new living room couches and her new bed.

I'm glad her efforts, and her taste, will be appreciated by the new owners.

they had me at 'shakespeare'

Today was my first outing for this year's Savannah Jewish Cultural Arts Festival, as well as my first venture out with others since my norovirus onslaught.

I had waited until after the event was to begin, to allow folks to find their seats.

I wanted to be sure to sit away from others, just in case I might pass on the calamity.

I needn't have been concerned.

Whether it was the new wave of colder temperatures or the subject, few attended.

They certainly missed out.

As good as the documentary had been, the question-and-answer session was stellar.

In fact, that discussion gave me a new appreciation of the film and its construction.

The title of the 2016 documentary, "A Gathering Of Strangers: The Making Of A Merchant In Venice", led me to expect a bit of the Bard, with the performances actually taking place in the Jewish ghetto of Venice.

I did get that, too, but with a twist: the actors were all modern time in mindset, though clad in the garb of the sixteenth century. 

That wasn't troublesome to me in the least, however, as I'd been to the Savannah Shakes productions, all of which featured time-traveled settings for the works.

What had been irksome, however, were the frequent overlays of news headlines from fall of 2015 to the spring of 2016, headlines detailing hate crimes around the world.

My thought had been that those headlines were there to titillate a Jewish audience and perchance gain entry of the documentary to those secular film festivals.

Thanks to the Q&A, I know that was not the intent at all.

 

The director, Ted Hardin, even referred to those headlines as the "montage of horror" that served as the behind the scenes topics discussed by the actors.

That's him, talking with his hands in action, while his wife, the producer Elizabeth Coffman, sits calmly across from him.

Both are college professors in Chicago, home of Long Distance Productions, their company.

He's an interesting character, starting out on a degree in chemistry at Florida State University, then dropping it - with only a quarter left in his studies - to pursue cinematography.

His story of how this documentary came to be was interesting, too.

The couple were in Italy and heard tell that "The Merchant Of Venice" was to be performed in the Venetian Ghetto to mark the 500th anniversary of the institution of that area in Venice by government decree on 29 March 1516.

The couple started off with low-key interviews of the play's director and the troupe (Karin Coonrod and Campagnia de Colombari), with the husband doing a bit of casual filming to supplement the talks.

Next thing you know, they're making a movie about the staging of the play, with a lot of back story on why Jews were forced to live in that area, why 'Shylock' came to be the face of the loan shark out for his 'pound of flesh' as payment, and how well Shakespeare represented the sentiment of the late 1590's for a place he never visited.

Hearing their talk afterward truly made all the difference in the world to my take on the film.

Perhaps I'll have a chance to see it again someday.

a tale of two buffys

Poor Spike.

I see now when his obsession with the blonde Slayer came to a head.

"Buffy The Vampire Slayer" comes on too late for me to watch these days.

That's because the first of its nightly trio of episodes doesn't begin until midnight.

Fortunately, I've discovered the joy of 'taping' TV shows for later viewing, so that's what I've done the past two days.

That gave me "Crush", "I Was Made To Love You", and "Intervention".

Those were s5e14, s5e15, and s5e18.

There were a couple of others that I deigned not to 'record'; I just wanted Spike's tale.

By focusing on only his story, I could see how his feelings changed from general "casual guy response to a good-looking chick in the room" to "interested guy's reactions to his love interest before he realizes that's what she is".

I credit Dawn with helping to lead him to that.

She's the 14-year-old sister of the Slayer, but here's the important thing: she's a 14-year-old girl.

She sees the romance between Zander and Anya, she sees the romance between Willow and Tara, and she wants to see a romance for her big sister... and Spike is the available guy.

She knows no one will let her have a boyfriend yet, as she is too young, but surely no one will object if she helps her sister's romance come along, right?

So, that's what she does.

Now, kindly remember that when Spike was human, he was known as sweet William and he was quite a romantic poet with a soft heart.

Add in that Dawn speaks to him as if he's part of the Buffy gang, as it he's just another older big-brotherly  type of guy, and so he talks with her about Buffy.

Nothing romantic, right, just questions about how she's doing since the mom died.

And, BOOM!

Next thing you know, Spike is at The Bronze, chatting up Buffy when she comes in, getting her all riled up because he's just trying to have to type of conversation with her that he's been having with her little sister.

Of course, it doesn't help that Spike's new girlfriend - Harmony - happens to look a lot like Buffy, but isn't nearly as challenging or smart.

It also doesn't help when Drusilla comes back to town and tries to lure him to Los Angeles to be the third with her and Angel.

Spike runs both of them off, but Buffy still isn't having him.

That's when the second episode of this love story steps in.

Enter the love robot, April, made by Warren, the nerd, when no real girl would have him.

The thing is, here's the thing: his interactions with April actually made him more comfortable around women, leading to him eventually getting a real girlfriend.

Oops.

So, Warren abandons the one he made to love him, leading her to eventually miss him and come in search of him.

Naturally, The Bronze is one of the places she checks, and that's where she runs into Spike, who, having been rebuffed by Buffy, decides to pick up April... who picks him up and hurls him through the bar's front window!

Definitely a funny moment in what turns out to be an otherwise sweet story.

Plus, Spike engages Warren to build a robot for him... and three guesses who Warren is tasked to use as the model for the robot's features and behavior. 

That task takes a while, of course, leading to a couple of episodes not in this arc.

 

Then, at last, it's delivery day for Spike to get his girl... and she's perfect!

She's even programmed to physically fight with him, to banter with him vocally, and to go out at night and stake other vampires, just as her namesake does.

So very perfect!

In fact, the robot even recognizes the people who are part of Buffy's group, knowing that they are her "friends", knowing enough to hold conversations with them and include relevant points so they won't suspect anything. 

Sure, the speech is a little off to those familiar with her, but they pass it off as stress from the recent death of her mom.

That is, until Zander and Anya, while out on vampire patrol, spot her having sex out there in the cemetery with Spike.

Say what?!?! 

There are allowances made for grief, but that was a bit too much, so they stage an intervention... and that's when the real Buffy comes home from her vision in the desert.

That's also when Spike really gets in trouble, but not with Buffy.

The demi-god Glory takes him prisoner and tortures him, trying to find out who the Key is.

She nearly kills him, but his resolve is strong, just as his love of Buffy is strong.

He knows it would kill Buffy to lose her sister to Glory, so he withstands the torture, knowing he would rather Glory kill him than his surrender lead to pain for Buffy.

That leads to a very tender moment between him and Buffy.

Yes, quite satisfying... even if he did lose his new toy.

(smile!)

norovirus, that's the name

... and away go fluids down the drain. No-ro-virus! 

"That almost sounds like it may be an advertising jingle, like Charlie Harper might pen."

Thanks! Actually, it's a riff I made up using the Roto-Rooter song. Only, in this case, the catchy little rhyme is about the malady I was plagued with on Sunday. When I stopped by CVS to pick up more electrolyte fluid, I spoke to the pharmacist. She told me I had norovirus, a nasty little beast that's making the rounds around now. It was first discovered in the USA in 1968, making this its 57th year of wreaking acute gastroenteritis hell.

"Yuck. But what made the pharmacist so sure you had that virus and not food poisoning?"

The fever I had for Sunday and Monday. Food poisoning doesn't give you the shakes and make you feel like you're freezing. I should have used my thermometer to check that out, but I didn't think of it. Just like I should have grabbed the little trash can in the bathroom and thrown up in it instead of on the floor, but I didn't think of it. I didn't think of anything at the time, I just reacted to my body's need to get whatever was inside to the surface and outside as quickly as humanly possible.

"Again, yuck."

Right? I'm just glad I thought to get into the shower and stand there while the process continued. My biggest fear had been running out of hot water while I was stuck there. It really was a horrible experience. I cannot imaging having to go through that for more than one day, but apparently some people do.

"Let's change the focus, shall we? Any idea how you may have gotten it?"

I think it was from the 'Celebration of Life' I went to on Saturday afternoon. There were people there from all over and I don't know who might have prepared the food. Speaking of, there was a mini-tart shell filled with what I thought was finely-diced ham and celery, but that wasn't the case. The filling was a fine mesh of fruits, possibly melons and cantaloupe. I just know that when I popped it into my mouth, it struck me as "wrong". Not "red", mind, so that was a relief. I just know that if Genie hadn't been right there talking to me, I would have spit it out right away. As it was, I did the polite thing: I swallowed it. Now, I wonder if that was the culprit.

"What's the time line for the norovirus?"

12 to 48 hours. So, that early afternoon event would be perfect timing for a 3 AM distress call from my booty. 

"I'm glad you can laugh at it now."

Actually, I'm just now getting to where I can laugh again without intense pain. My stomach and entire upper abdominal area have been so sore from all that expulsion of contents that just clearing my throat was enough to cause pain. I'll be glad when all of that is back to its normal state.

"So, will you be going to the Friday Fiesta with your brothers?"

I will not. According to the pharmacist, I am still contagious for several days after I feel better, and may still be able to spread the norovirus for up to two weeks. 

"Two weeks??? That's incredible. My guess is the person who gave it to you didn't know that, so that's why they were at the church for that funeral service."

I think you may be right. That's yet another reason why I'm glad I didn't try to attend the service for Harry Jenkins today. I forewent that occasion because I knew I was not healthy enough to drive out to Pooler this morning. But I'd hate to think I might spread this sickness to those I know and love, so I'm glad I stayed home. And I'll be doing that on Friday, too.

"Good for you. Meanwhile, keep drinking those electrolyte fluids. You were clearly dehydrated, as evidenced by your infrequency with urination."

You are correct. Plus, I felt my brain "come on" a few minutes ago, and i know that's because all those little neurons are able to get messages through again, now that there are enough sodium and potassium ions to bridge those axial gaps. 

"Okay, I'm convinced you're improving. You're talking chemistry! That's a good sign."

(smile) I agree. Now, I'm going to start another tall glass of Pedialyte Lemon Lime and enjoy a movie. Comcast has given me Starz this week and I just now found out. Yes, that's how slow I've been, mentally. Fortunately, the listing made sure to have "Guardians Of The Galaxy" right at the front, so I'll be starting with that one. i thank You, God.

"Keep drinking those liquids, dear. Keep up the good work on your recovery."

bathrobe clean again! hooray!

I have certainly missed being able to slip into my bathrobe on chilly mornings.

I've had to resort to getting fully dressed before coming out of my warm bedroom.

That has been most unsatisfactory.

Shower time is another occasion when I've missed my comfy bathrobe.

Mercifully, today was unseasonably warm, allowing me to take a shower.

That was wonderful!!!

I hadn't realized I hadn't had a shower since the two I took early Sunday morning when my body was in such distress.

In fact, that first shower back then, around 4 AM, had me clad in my bathrobe when the second bout of body fluids spewed forth, marring that clothing and rendering it unusable.

Yes, that was one of those times that I wished I had a washing machine at home.

Instead, I awaited this day, to save what little I could and to allow my strength to rebuild.

I still had to use a buggy to get my basket of laundry from my car to the building, then again to return all to the car.

Trust me, getting the basket from my house to the car and then back again had me sitting for a while to catch my strength up.

Here's the difference between these instances and those I had from A-fib: I didn't lose my breath even once today.

I was just incredibly weak.

Still, that was a successful venture: my lovely, lavender, bathrobe is restored to pristine status.

i thank You, God.

this one's for Dave Hewitt

He's the one who still wanted Sam Johnson's Goth Girl Blog Day to exist, years ago.

He's the one I wrote the post for last month, mistakenly, when I misremembered which day of which month the event occurs on.

That's a reflection of how long it's been since I was inspired to post a GGBD entry.

For the record, the marking of GGBD is, and has always been since its creation, on February 25.

Here's one from my stash, about the Goth Girl and her black diamond dream.

Feel free to look for others about her.

no more garlic chicken, just b-r-a-t

What a terrible time I've had the last two days, though the worst was on Sunday.

After the musical, I came home to dine on a package of Garlic Chicken... and kept tasting it, burp after burp.

I thought maybe I'd overeaten, so I stayed up a little later, hoping my stomach would settle.

At 3 AM, I was roused from bed, in great distress.

There followed three hours of diarrhea and vomiting, each hour interspersed with me having to shower before trying to return to bed to get warm.

There's nothing quite so miserable as sitting on the toilet, shaking, as both orifices spew.

About 7 AM, I crawled back to bed, in yet another nightgown, desperate to get warm.

After a couple of hours of restless half-sleep, I was up for yet another round of fluids leaving my body forcefully.

Horrible, just horrible.

And throughout the ordeal, the smell of that last meal was all around me.

Was it food poisoning?

About 1 PM, I changed from the couch to the bed and slept four blessed hours in peace.

I was wakened by another bout of diarrhea, but the vomiting seemed to have ceased.

i thank You, God.

I distracted myself with a little TV.

I watched David Chambers win the Mexican Open, with that being his first-ever win of a tournament since he started making the rounds in 2015.

I watched the AARP MFG Awards show, every minute of it.

All the while, I slowly sipped the 'emergency' ginger ale that had been in the fridge.

That seemed to work, so I switched over to an electrolye drink still in the fridge.

Mind, I cut both with tap water, so they wouldn't be too cold for my poor stomach.

It still feels like it's been used as a punching bag.

Early to bed Sunday night, sleeping fairly well, though with crossed legs... just in case.

 

Today, I had an appointment with my nutritionist, Elizabeth Carley, at Savannah VA.

I maybe could have postponed it again, but the original meet was for last Thursday, when the temperature didn't even hit 50 F.

I'm glad I went.

She couldn't say if I had food poisoning or an intestinal flu, but she knew what I needed.

She recommended the BRAT food plan.

Bananas, unseasoned rice, unsweetened applesauce, and toast.

That necessitated my stopping at the store for three of those four, as I had rice.

By the time I arrived there, I was almost shaking I was so worn out.

I grabbed a buggy in the parking lot to steady myself and held onto it as I slowly moved through Food Lion, picking up one banana, a six-pack of unsweetened applesauce, more ginger ale, a lemonade Vitamin Water, and a box of Wheat Thins.

Then I came home and sat for hour or so, drinking more fluids, slowly.

Then I had some applesauce and crackers... and it stayed down.

Half the banana followed... and that stayed, too. 

I'm going to try rice with unsalted, no-fat beef broth for dinner.

Looks like it's going to be an early night again.

Good.