In this case, I was off in Chicago and then after that Gencon in Indianapolis for a couple of weeks. I got back last Tuesday and have been moping along ever since. It took a while to recover from the sleep deprivation, but I've also been plagued by injury of sorts. I managed to trip and took a hard fall on the streets of Indy soon after gencon started and I landed with all the aerodynamic grace of a 3-tier cake dropped from shoulder height. I did something pretty painful to my ribs which I diagnosed as a bruise since I imagine if they were broken the agony must be unbearable. Instead, the pain is generally controllable as long as I cram down a shit-ton of drugs. I guess it's a lucky thing I've got a small mexican pharmacy's worth of opiates. Whenever I don't keep up the heavy drugging the pain is pretty intense during certain kinds of movement and it's just gimping along.
I haven't done all that much since getting back from the trip either. About the only thing of interest is I downloaded and watched the last season of Deadliest Catch. I had read about Captain Phil Harris's death in the news half a year ago and even posted something here about it but hadn't wanted to watch the season until all the episodes were done airing. I was sort of curious how the Discovery channel would handle it and I think they put exactly the right touch on all of it. Once the stroke occurred, they spent around half the time of each episode still following the other fishing boats and half the time following Phil and his sons. I was pretty shocked to realize that Phil was only 56 years old. I guess it shouldn't be a surprise considering the lifestyle he led, but that's still amazingly young to have passed on. I had also been baffled how he had died in the first place when all the news reports I had been following at the time suggested he was getting better. Depending on how you view such things, it was either fate's cruel joke or divine grace. If you believe the latter then he was given a blessing in that he was able to say all he wanted to say to his sons and have that final time with them before the second stroke took him. Many people never get such an opportunity and he could have easily just dropped dead on the spot. Instead, despite the sense of false hope, he was able to put all of his affairs in order and no doubt that was or will be a comfort to his family.
Right now I'm in the middle of watching the 6th season of Hell's Kitchen, which is actually a couple of years behind. Not watching tv, on a tv anyway, makes it hard for me to keep track of what shows are running and it's hard to remember to grab a season as it ends. Gordan Ramsay is amusing as always and you can't help but wonder where the producers find this huge batch of misfits and nutjobs. I don't for a minute think that I could last very long cooking on a line, but the very fact that I might entertain the fact that I could cook anything on par with these nimrods tells you about the quality of the contestants. I wouldn't even begin to think I could make a fucking ham sandwich as well as any of the people competing on Top Chef, but it's hard not to watch Hell's Kitchen and begin to suffer the delusion that you could cook risotto at least as well as some of those morons. I guess that's why Hell's Kitchen is the low brow version of Top Chef to begin with.
Anyway, hopefully I've gotten back into the swing of posting on here and I'll get around to back-posting about the trip to chicago and gencon at some point. Stranger things have happened.