Tick Tock Oh Damn

Just got a call from my buddy Rich (for more info, go here and here) and he has gotten his deployment orders. His flight for Iraq will be leaving within 48 hours. So, Christine just finished losing it on the phone with him (she's kept a good stiff upper lip so far, but the actual departure finally broke the facade), I talked with him for a few minutes and told him nothing he could say would pierce my steely exterior, so we said our au revoir's and that was that.

Moments later, Christine poked her face into the freezer, seeking some sort of culinary comfort, and she says "Huh. What's that... weird little... ummm... noise?" I listen from across the room, hearing a little crinkly/hissy sound, and assure her it is probably just some cellophane or something moving around. She moves a few things around, and says "ummm, nu-uh. Not cellophane. What is that?" So, exhasperated, I walk over, all prepared to be the superior male and I look in the freezer to see what's the what.

Hmmm.

Something in the back of the freezer, all the way at the bottom and behind some sort of facing or shield or something, is... glowing. Red. And making a little rhytmic sizzling sound as water drips on it.

Yeah. That ain't good.

So, out comes the plug, and 45 minutes, 2 phone calls (mom, fridge repair dude), 40 lbs. of ice (corner store), 3 ice chests, several cardboard boxes, and hundreds of frayed nerves later the fridge is empty and our house is no longer in danger of imminent refrigerator-induced immolation.

Fuck. How much is this gonna fuckin' cost me? We've got a kiddie b-day party on Saturday -- hundreds of fucking dollars are already allocated to that fiasco. Something like a score of 5 and 6 year olds will be invading my demesne. And I currently have no refrigerator. No refrigerator means no ice cream. No cold beer. No ice for bourbon.

Good god, this is a problem.

-=-

Prior to the dire phone call and fridge emergency, we watched the season premiere of Gilmore Girls. Damn, I love that show. And I gotta say, I really want WB to rescind their silly little policy about not showing full penetration hardcore porno sex (including plenty of cheesy music, candlelight, and slow-mo money shots) just long enough for them to get into heavy-duty close-up detail for when Luke and Lorelai finally have sex. These two have the most entertainingly real-feeling sexual tension and chemistry I've ever seen on TV. I want them to be real, honest-to-goodness people so that I can be present when they do the deed. I want to buy the jumbo popcorn and a big-ass soda and watch them fuck for hours.

I've never felt this way about television people. Yeah, it's sad, pathetic, perverse, and weird. But there it is. Sigh.

Mood: Pain... tension.. back of... my neck....
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