Well, regardless of how my stay started, I cannot deny that this is one of the most comfortable beds I’ve ever slept in outside of my own which is good since I have three more days here and they’re pretty jam-packed. It’s so comfortable that I fell asleep during Ghostbusters, which I started around 10 last night and I didn’t really wake up until around 8 am! This is especially remarkable since I haven’t been able to get more than five hours of sleep for the past couple of weeks...too much to do and, at that point, so little time in which to do it while the buses were running. Room service was ace, too, and that certainly helped calm my whiny self down. A turkey herb wrap and a house salad omnomnomnom. I think my room service guy was a vampire, though, because he was all like, “Do I have permission to enter your room?” No, dude, I want to gobble my food out in the hall. Which I would have, if I had to.
The next paragraph has spoilers for season eight of CSI: Vegas. You have been warned.
I watched a random season nine episode of CSI: Vegas last night on broadcast television. I’ll reserve my judgment on the lovely Laurence Fishburne for once I’ve seen more than just the single episode, but the whole dynamic seems off now (the CSI fans are probably saying, “Well, yeah...duh...”) And I don’t know if George Eads was ill during the filming of the episode or what, but Nicky seemed especially off, with puffy eyes and slightly slurred speech -- they wouldn’t give Stokes an alcohol problem after Warrick’s death, would they? It was the parachute episode, with Charisma Carpenter and Erin Daniels guest starring...which was especially wonderfully strange to me considering Lauren Lee Smith was a series regular during season nine. If you can follow that without a map, you’re awesome. This is one of those times where I wonder if the CSI casting directors cast for the fan fiction writers.
Anyway, I bring up CSI because while, yes, I know I’m in Ohio and that I’m only an hour north of Ye Olde Homestead, it was still a shock to see the Football Hall of Fame on the commercial for the nightly news. I used to pass the Football Hall of Fame quite often in my childhood. I still think it looks like a citrus juicer... I’ve never been in the Hall of Fame so I have no idea what the heck is in the juicer part of the building. Don’t feel bad, Cantonites. The theatre at my old high school looks like a giant toilet. I can’t find a proper photo of it, but trust me on the toiletyness of the building.
Okay, so even in spite of my trip thus far being very Cleveland (according to my mommy), I still have a little bit of...I don’t even know what, for the home state. It’s not affection, it’s not disgust, it’s not homesickness, and it’s not fond memories. And I’m not even going to Canton! Maybe next trip, whenever that might be. I suppose it will be forever undefinable. I must say that it’s nice to see more motorcycles and Harley emblems (not necessarily on those motorcycles) than Mercedes Benzes and Lexuses...Benzi? Lexi? How are high-end cars pluralized, anyway?
No comments:
Post a Comment