I've had some nagging stuffed-uppedness for weeks now, but yesterday it got worse. I'm home sick, though I went to my office to email myself some things and grab some papers. I actually went so far as to get myself a doctor's appointment, though one apparently wasn't available until this coming Friday. If I don't start to feel much better today, I'm going to call the nurse hotline and get them to sneak me in today or tomorrow, maybe.
But before all that, there was a fun weekend, really. Friday night Kevin and I went to see Colin Meloy and Laura Veirs, which was lovely besides some annoying drunks. Prior to that, we ate dinner at Chaat Paradise, where, among other things, I ordered a muli paratha, which is bread stuffed with white radish (like daikon) and served with raita, which also has radish in it. I'm not sure it overtakes spinach paratha, but it was damn good, and went much better with the raita.
Do you like how I can talk more about the meal than the show we went to see?
On Saturday, we went to SFMOMA, then met up with my sister in Union Square. She took us to the creatively named Indonesia Restaurant (at Post and Jones), where we ate some delicious coconut rice, crunchy tempeh, and spicy vegetable soup. After lots of walking around, we took our leave of her, and I felt tired and bitchy and my feet hurt and wow am I ever a lot of fun to hang out with, but we went to Cobb's Comedy Club to see Wanda Sykes, and it was all better.
Oh, and since I didn't write about it, the Mr. Show Q&A last week was excellent. The only weird thing about comedy clubs, to me, is how they actually enforce the two drink minimum. I've seen a lot of rock clubs with that printed on the ticket, but I've never seen anyone enforce it. The cheapest thing on the menu is a $3.50 bottle of water. Soda and coffee are $4. Seriously. I understand it, though.
And DVDs this week: The Lost Boys of Sudan was not as depressing as I expected, and the refugees in it reminded me a lot of my brother (my older Cambodian brother) and his friends' experiences coming from the Thai camps as unaccompanied minors. End of Suburbia was not very well-argued; it was just lefty propaganda, and as a lefty, it felt preachy and annoying. I don't doubt they were telling some truths, but my god. Tell it better. Interview people who aren't just pushing their own books. Mean Girls was decently entertaining. Bob Roberts was depressing and funny in a not-ha ha way.
What else? Nothing. Just sick. Fuck.