(no subject)

Last night around six-thirty R texted me that he was sick, and asked if I would pick him up some OJ and decongestant.

Now, normally I would not take issue with this, except he texted it well after the time at which I would be on my way home and could just swing by the bodega at the El stop. Which meant that he was asking me to get dressed again and go out in the 2 degree weather and the falling snow. And even then I could understand it if, you know, his flat weren't way closer to a grocery store and he didn't oh HAVE A CAR or anything. I mean I know it sucks to go out when you're sick, but going to the store for him involves walking thirty feet, buying his goods, and walking thirty feet back, whereas for me it's three storeys down, two blocks to the store, and then thirty feet to his place.

So I don't feel too badly that I ignored the text just long enough for him to talk Ratpacker into doing it instead. I did offer to come over today and make him some spicy peanut butter soup, so he's going to text me when he wakes up and I'll haul my laptop and some soup ingredients over to his place.

In the meantime, I am relaxing and working on a sekrit project and playing legend of Zelda. This owl-statue bullshit must end, you guys, there is too much warping at the end of this game.

(no subject)

Well, I am at R's place and the soup is warm on the stove.

I kind of feel like an asshole now because he is really, really sick, can't get out of bed sick, but on the other hand I did just plow my way through a snowstorm to get here, so I don't feel too bad, and Ratpacker brought him Nyquil and boxed soup. I made him a cup of hot honeyed tea, then right before I put my from-scratch soup on I brought him some nyquil so he could sleep a bit.

People always ask for the Peanut Butter Soup recipe, especially after they've had it, so here it is. It has the distinction of also being called Orgasmic Peanut Butter Soup, not to mention being what Ianto served to a poisoned and suffering Jack in Season Zero. This soup, you guys, is magical.

( Spicy Peanut Butter Soup )

I'm going to hang out at R's for a while, disinfecting my hands frequently and watching his cable TV.

I had a weird moment as I was laying out the soup stuff, because I was asking myself, do I feel weird or annoyed that I'm looking after him while he's sick? Not that I think I should, but I think some people would, and I asked myself if he'd do the same for me. I know he would if I asked him (though he would not, likely, do as good a job as I would), but the point is that I don't want to ask for someone to look after me while I'm sick. When I'm ill or hurting I want to curl up and be alone, so there's no equality of trade there; we don't want the same things. And then I thought about...well, am I treating friendship as a transaction? But I'm not really doing that either.

My point is, if I weren't doing this I'd be off faffing about doing nothing-in-particular, which is kind of nice because it's taken me a lot of work to get to a point where I even have free time like this. And this is what people do, what I'm doing here is being part of humanity, I have a tribe and R's part of my tribe.

It's a strange epiphany to have while chopping potatoes, but there you have it.

(no subject)

The finished product. Om nom nom NOM.

(no subject)

AHA!

I've been having trouble with my touchpad -- it seems to get erratic and start selecting things randomly when I don't want it to. A quick google about turns up that the problem is SOMEHOW related to the power cord -- a two-prong power source doesn't give enough oomph. Sure enough, as soon as I unplugged the laptop the mouse worked perfectly.

Huh.

The ways of technology are strange.

Fortunately I have a three-prong adaptor from my old computer that should work fine, but I'm going to have to call up Dell and ask them why they're sending out parts with known problems, and when they'd like to ship my new three-prong cord out.

I poked R in the head and asked him if he wanted some soup, but he says he's not sure he can keep anything down. I'm going to poke him again in an hour or so and force at least some tea on him. In the meantime I'm happily buried in the sofa, eating pizza and watching TV. HOORAY FOR SATURDAY.

(no subject)

R is awake and eating, hurrah! And has a fever and is A LITTLE HILARIOUS. We were watching the Daily Show and they mentioned Roland Burriss's pre-existing mausoleum ("He's not dead yet!"). It's in Oakwoods cemetery.

Sam: Oh, I know where that is. It's right south of the U of C.
R: You sounded so SOUTHERN there!
Sam: Huh?
R: This is really good tea.

We are also playing Wheel. Pat called one of the contestants by name...

Sam: Did he just call her Tampon?
R: I WAS GOING TO SAY THAT but I didn't want to seem immature.
Sam: What's her name? If I were named Tampon I would not admit to it on Wheel of Fortune.
R: *pauses the TV* it's...Amporn.
Sam: Wow.
R: Amporn. AMPOOOOOORN.
Sam: Yeah, I heard y --
R: AAAAMPORN! Hey, my ma sent us homemade candy.
Sam: Drink your tea.