Sick, Sick, Sick

This weekend started off rather great, with cycling and enjoying the nice weather. Last night I watched my DVD of the 1948 British classic, The Red Shoes, which I had ordered. It is the Criterion Collection version, which means it is the best possible copy. The film is certainly one of the finest examples of color cinematography ever made. Coincidentally, yesterday would have been star Moira Shearer's 83rd birthday. She died in 2006, basically giving up her career in the ballet and acting (she appeared in only six films) to get married and have four kids.

Anyway, it was a great movie. After I finished watching it, I started getting pains in my stomach, and it descended so I looked quite a bit like Alfred Hitchcock in profile. I thought I'd turn in after taking a shower.

Well, it was almost midnight, and I had to get up and go to the bathroom. I prided myself on not having had to puke in almost 23 years, but that "winning streak" finally came to an end. And speaking of end, the other acted up, too, so I had vomiting and diarrhea. Fortunately, I only vomited once--I hope readers aren't eating while reading this entry--but the diarrhea has continued off and on throughout the day. The landlord helped me out by picking up a bottle of 7Up, which I was able to keep down, some bottled water (the tap water is nasty here, and I haven't bought a filter/water purifier yet), and a couple of cans of chicken broth. After trying to sleep, then going to the bathroom, then having to let the goddamned dogs out what seemed like every five minutes, my body is finally getting over this stuff. It's nasty, and it has been going around. Riding the bus doesn't help, either. I have no doubt that's where I picked this stuff up. As long as I can stay hydrated, I should survive.