I am good. I have frogs.

Having Louise as a housemate again forces me to keep somewhat more abreast of current pop culture (if only because we like to sit in different rooms and yell back and forth across the hall to each other about what we're reading on ohnotheydidnt), and it also means I go see movies more often now. We went out and saw Love and Other Drugs this week, which I found fairly interesting for reasons other than Jake Gyllenhaal's ass and Anne Hathaway's rack (nice as both assets are). Mostly, this was because thanks to my job, I've been sort of a sidelines viewer of the tango between pharmaceutical companies and doctors that takes place in the medical field, and it can be fucking hilarious.

I don't think they really knew how to market this film. It's got too many downers to be a real romantic comedy; it's got too many throwaway gags to work as a drama. I think they initially pushed it as a RomCom, and then they started bringing out the trailers with the more serious bits—all the weeping and wailing and "You need someone to take care of you!" shouts—and then swung back to the "Hey, you get to see Anne Hathaway's tits!" angle. I think this pushed more people away than it brought in; the audience was divided but not really conquered. (Also, uh, I could totally get down with Viagra-fueled hatesex between Trey Hannigan and Jamie Randall. It would be hot and hilarious. Boner-duels.)

At any rate. Like I said, I actually found this more interesting because I often get to sit back and watch various pharmaceutical groups try to woo doctors; I also get to watch our own group try to woo the companies back into giving us grants. This can start with outright lies and dinners at classy restaurants, eventually it escalates and suddenly you’re sitting there watching the guy from Company A hire Amazonian "lab assistants" with DD chests to parade around and talk to certain doctors, while the lady from Company B is firing back by buying rounds and rounds of mojitos for the docs in the lounge, and eventually the dour CME official comes and breaks it up.

I had to take a course on CME, very similar to a previous sexual harassment course with similar epic fail results. No one should let me do anything that has anything to do with maintaining a medical license. I have a bribery record.

In conclusion, I apologize for being very boring lately. Links and AIM, since I've only been half-heartedly finishing the fic.

( Links: Jackass, politics, beer names, horrifying holiday food, sandwiches, Bollywood, Russell Brand, Da Vinci manuscripts, ancient doors, and mooses. Mooses really need a better plural word. )

I wonder if it is still accurate to call it "AIM conversation" when it is now more like "Reformated G-Chat Excerpts From Three in the Morning." Semantics, and all.

( AIM and/or G-Chat: Germans vs. Americans, Mean Monkey Monday, when and when not to stand on the Fifth Amendment, evil twin nametag system, Silent Hill, Sephiroth vs. Tseng in Shinra cocktail party avoidance strategy, and weapons FF7 should have included. )

I feel like a Grinch for neither being touched nor impressed by last night's Glee episode, but most of the active antipathy can be attributed to the fact that "Baby It's Cold Outside" is on my top five of Hated Holiday/Winter Songs, and always provokes a reaction of, Oh my God, you fucking psycho, let her go home already! Are you putting a roofie in her drink?! SOMEONE CALL THE COPS!

It's, uh, hard to focus. (For the record, I have similarly disproportionate shouting reactions to "Santa Baby", "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Clause", "Old Parson Brown", and that damn song from the Love Actually film. But I also hate Love Actually, so that may be another case of spillover hate.)

Tonight is the mandatory alcohol-free office staff dinner. Three hours of dipping fondue with people I don’t like, and then I will go home where I am free to drink until I see manatees.