IRL: Movie Marathon

Tomorrow I am planning a James Bond Movie Marathon! This is mainly to correct the fact that for some reason I have never watched a James Bond Movie. Preposterous, you might exclaim, but it's completely true! It even baffled me, when I got down to it. It also is a thinly veiled attempt at restoring some of my dignity after I horrifically realized that I had spent all night (and a good part of my morning) watching old 90's cartoons *hangs head in shame*. And the worst part is they amused me as much (if not more) as when I was a child. Goes to show how cultured and refined my sense of humor is.
In other (vaguely related) news, spring break is so nice! I have spent the majority of it reading, reading, reading! Not even my beloved public can keep me from reading, actually nothing short of the apocalypse could probably keep me from reading, and even then I wager that I would probably be the type to hole in somewhere with some candles, tea, and a shit-ton of books and just "wait for it to all blow over".

... a toilet would also be a pretty good idea. And a first-aid kit. Also a gun wouldn't be too shabby, probably should include some ammo, a few blunt weapons....  a retractable katana...  a chainsaw hand-extension... a lawn mower... my laptop... Minecraft...

IRL: Hospital Visits

First things first: it is now officially spring break, yay! No more blasted school trying to ruin my education!
Anyways... last Saturday I got my first operation/hospital thingie.  Not my first hospital visit, mind, just my first operation. My first hospital visit was actually really depressing and darkly ironic. You see, blog-that-no-one-visits, for months I had been begging my mum for a cat. To finally shut me up, she acquiesced. So of course, I being the responsible person that I am, immediately went out and bought everything that one needs when raising a cat. EVERYTHING. Food, litter, shampoo, scratching posts, an unhealthy amount of toys, etc. After wasting a ridiculous amount of money, I finally acquired my kitty [rest easy, I didn't go to an evil pet shop, instead I got him from my friend's rescued cat, which she later spayed/neutered (I can honestly never tell when to use which)]. So the first day with my kitty (whom I named Nikola Schrödinger) passed in absolute kawaii-ness. That is until little Nikola gave me a violent allergic reaction.  How violent? Well I had to go to the hospital because, well...I kind of... couldn't breathe. So yeah...how's that for irony?

Nikola being his absolutely shy and adorable self, minutes before almost killing me. <3

Now that was my 1st hospital visit. My second was much less ironic and much more druggy. So for reasons unknown to mankind, my doctor scheduled me for an endoscopy (the actually word is like a billion consonants, seriously). So yeah, did I mention I have a kind-of phobia not only of needles but generally of hospitals. To make a long story short, it was pretty terrifying. Also it was a bit freaky when the anesthesiologist kept on drugging me. Later on I learned that they had to use almost twice as much anesthesia that was normally used! And it didn't even knock my out! I was pretty much lucid throughout the whole thing, just a bit sleepy. But seriously it wore of little five minutes after the operation, which meant I had to spend like an hour bored out of my mind trying not to thing of the million of disgusting and incurable infections I was picking up.
And know, you guessed it, I have to eat? like a million pills, all about the size of my thumb. God I just hate hospitals. But at least I can now brag that it (probably) takes a heck-of a lot of drugs to take me out! :D
But worry not, my adoring (and completely made up) public, I am alright <3

Book Review: The Death of Ivan Ilych

The Death of Ivan Ilych by Leo Tolstoy
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

The Death of Ivan Ilych is what one would expect it to be. First it talks about the aftermath, then his life and finally his death. It's what one doesn't expect it to be that makes it glorious. One expects reminiscing about life, nostalgia, sadness, desperation, and granted, it's filled to the brim with it. What one doesn't expect is that, in the end, you wish you could escape with Ivan. Because all throughout his narrative we weave our own life, our own failures our own mediocrity until at last we are confronted with the harsh and harrowing truth of the worthlessness of our own existence, and unlike Ivan, we can't escape it.
The Death of Ivan Ilych is one of those books, those short unassuming little books that you can read in an hour and then spend your lifetime in it's numbing wake. The Death of Ivan Ilych is a book that probably should be read by everyone, but then again, the consequences would be disastrous.

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