Sure beats doodling on my papers at work …

… oh, and I also got some actual productive stuff done today!

So I was doing some packing today, and I had the commentary playing on my director’s cut DVD of Highlander. Great movie. Anyway, it was mentioned that one of the early drafts of the film had the final battle playing out on the Statue of Liberty. I was curious about what other changes may have occurred from the early draft, so my google search turned up this version: this very early version, assuming it’s authentic. The big change? It’s set in Washington, D.C.: and Connor wins the Prize in the Jefferson Memorial.

Now, a.) I don’t know if this is authentic, and b.) It’s clearly a very early rough sketch, and the final product — not without its flaws — is so far superior to be almost unbelievable.

“All of your present plans will be successful.”

Chinese fortune cookie today: too bad my present plans don’t involve an illegal scheme to net me millions of dollars, however.

“I told him to put it away.”

Customer entering the store, to the service manager at the part-time job, who was jaw agape at a drunk who had just walked out with his penis completely exposed.

“I want to tie him up to the chair!”

One of my part-time coworkers, expressing regret that I was leaving work for the night Friday night. My response: “I like where this conversation is going!” Alas, she is moving back west this week.

“Why is there a stripper pole in your cube?”

“[Snay] gave it to me! And it’s a lamp. And also? It’s not big enough to be a stripper pole.” (See, I’ve been giving away my excess IKEA NOT lamps…)

Saturdays kind of suck, especially right now, since I’m still living in Timonium and working a part-time job in DC. Thankfully, traffic is fairly light these days, but it’s still about an hour and a half commute: later, when I’m leaving, and the Metro isn’t running as frequently, it can be much longer. I’ve been working nine hour shifts on Saturday: it’s what I want, that is, I’d hate to drive all the way and leave after five hours. Nine hours with an hour for lunch (unpaid, of course): taken at this great little bar called Mackey’s which has (woohoo!) hard cider and some really good chickenstrips.

Anyway, I left yesterday about seven. The job itself involves a lot of walking and standing and my feet were just killing me, but I felt otherwise fine as I boarded the Metro. The car itself was packed, but about half the folks departed on the next stop, and I sat down on a bench. Here’s where everything went bad: I started to feel very warm, and a little nauseous (I was a little worried that I was going to vomit), and even though the car was actually fairly cool, I started sweating horribly. I leaned against the car’s bulkhead and slept intermittently.

I park out in the burbs, on one of the open-to-air stations on the Red Line. When the train arrived, I walked out of the car and decided to lay down on one of the benches there. Maybe it was just being outside in fresh air, but I felt well enough to stagger out of the station and to my car. Rolled down the window, reclined the seat, and napped for about twenty minutes, at which point I felt back to being myself: I looked in the rear-view mirror, and my hair was all damn and matted down. Eep! Threw a Queen CD in the player, and got home in forty-five minutes (sweet).

So, as best as I can tell, I literally got the twenty minute flu bug.

Sure beats the twenty-four hour version!