The silicon chip inside her head gets switched to overload

I am so easy. Really, really easy. There are whores that are harder to please than I am.
The lowpoint of my day was not finding any of Stephen Colbert's Americone Dream. I can't even eat ice cream but I need some of that. Yesterday.
Highpoint:
House was new tonight. Dave Matthews (shhhh...I like DMB....don't tell people it'd ruin my street cred) played a piano playing savant. Kurtwood Smith (Red on That 70s Show and Neil's bastard Dad in Dead Poet's Society-I love him) was his very caring and gentle father. House might have brain cancer but I won't go into that. The Ham kiss didn't make me want to stab myself in the eyes until I went blind. The last thing really surprised me. I expected unbelievable suffering. I was ready to scream with the torment of the damned. Luckily, TEH HAWT that is Hugh Laurie cancelled the bloodless boredom that is Jennifer Morrison. I don't actually dislike her, she's young and not untalented but she's one dimensional. It is important to remember that HL was best known as an upper class British twit with limited range drawing light from Stephen Fry's bright star until House came along. I'm not saying she's that good--but it's something to consider. The episode left a lot of die hard House/Wilson shippers (and few will die harder than I) cold but I loved it. The way I see this episode is that House is very sad. He's pushing everyone away and trying to find ways to make his life have something resembling what he presumes to be meaning without the normal human connection. He doesn't trust himself and he doesn't trust the people that claim to be concerned about him. Everyone has an ulterior motive. It's not about caring about a fellow human being, it's about 'what does this mean to me?' Even Wilson's suspect in that manner. House isn't happy. He's manipulative and he's an ass. He's beginning to wonder if he wants to be that way. That's why he was trying what he was. It was misguided and selfish (particularly from the Wilson standpoint---oh my darling Wilson! You suffer so!) but that's House. House has a talent, he's able to make people that otherwise wouldn't have the chance live. But he isn't living. Not the life he would like to. Or at least, there doesn't seem to be the option of living like he would like. The end was unsatisfying because I don't buy that it would be accepted. If I was in that restaurant I'd tell him to go home and get his selfish lying face out of mine. But that's just me.

In my life. My life is less interesting than an episode of House. For example, Dave Matthews totally did not guest star in my day. No one played lovely melodies on the piano while I mused. Gomez did not provide a soundtrack. What did happen was that I spent most of the day at work reading TWoP. Very little happened at work other than the excitement of having temporary custody of a DVD recorder. That's fun.
I had errand to run on the way home. Buying DVD-Rs for example. But I also needed beer. And TVGuide. And something for dinner if I could find it. It's important for this story to know that I was very single minded in my search for cold Smithwick's, a rotisserie chicken and the TV Guide that has HL, RSL and Omar Epps on the cover. And not the other one.
The sign at Kroger says "Rotisserie Chicken Guaranteed Ready 4-7pm" I was there at 6:15. There were no damn chickens. I wanted a damn chicken for dinner dammit! Sons of bitches! Is that so hard? I stalked up and down the store making demands of deli employees and random smocked individuals as to where the hell my "guaranteed in stock" chickens were. I was pissed because everyone told me that the guarantee didn't actually mean there would be chickens during that time. What!the!fuck?
Then it got worse because I could only find room temp Smithwicks. That will never do. SO I had to stomp around the store looking for cold beer, because surely they have cold 6's of the advertised beer special of the fucking week, right? Wrong. Which left me with warm beer. And I kept finding the wrong TVGuide and had to duck from aisle to aisle until I found the right one. Meanwhile, Cadbury Creme Eggs were taunting me with their cremey goodness. It was getting late. I had no food. Warm beer and TVGuide is expensive. It wasn't a pretty image. Made all the less pretty by the fact that I was dressed in a pair of very lame trousers and a sweater with dainty flowers on it. That's right-I wasn't having any luck with my shopping and I was dressed like a librarian. I just wanted to get home.
FINALLY-I decided to just fail at my trip and maybe eat kibble for dinner. I didn't care. Whatever. Screw you, Kroger. I was checking out at the U-Scan, having an argument with the computer voice lady because I wanted to cancel an item but it wouldn't let me and there was a line and people were looking at me funny. Especially this guy in glasses that I'd passed twiceand only noticed because he looked at me funny and I had no idea why because-- NO COLD BEER OR CHICKEN!
Having convinced the U-Scan to take my money I was about to skulk out of the store. I think I might've actually been talking to the U-Scan during the transaction. Like ya do. When glassed dude comes barreling at me with his cart, pushing into the teensy U-Scan space and almost clipping my achille's heel. I thought about hitting him, and pointing out that was an asshole thing to do but I like being allowed to shop at the grocery store. Even if they don't have what I want.
"You better hurry home. It's Hughsday."
"What?" I blushed and stepped away in alarm. Again, like ya do. Because either this person is insane or I've managed to not recognize someone I should. Either way, it's embarassing for one or both of us.
The latter was the case. I'm very self-possessed. I live in a one person world. There's no reason to pay attention to other people, they don't notice me. Uh, unless I've known them for about 7 years. Then, they'd probably notice me. Especially me when I'm stamping around a store and talking to myself. Actually, I suspect a lot of people noticed me. I was acting a bit odd. And I had on a very unfortunate outfit. It bordered on the professional.
So, yeah. That was funny. The glasses and the hat are a clever disguise. Or casual wear. I dunno. It was less funny the being picked on loudly and in public for my Doctor Who watching, House loving ways. I'm a nerd. We all know that. The guy checking IDs at the self-checkout does not need to know that the highlight of my week is watching House alone in the dark whilst drinking import beer. Inglewood does not need to know about my long standing crush on Robert Sean Leonard. That's why I don't talk to people. They point out aspects of my personality that might indicate I'm less cool than I like to pretend I am. The bummer is, some people have known me long enough (or in the right capacity) to know that I'm everything but cool. Stupid history. Guess it's time to go somewhere where no one knows any of mine.