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Five things that made the past two weeks great despite a cold:

1. Master and Margarita: This five DVD Russian miniseries based on Bulgakov’s famous novel dazzled us for days! Visually striking and (generally) faithful to the book, the cast performed splendidly. Despite critic’s complaints related to CGI/special effects, I enjoyed the little person in a furry catsuit playing Begemot and the lack of sophisticated special effects. Movies can still be captivating without blasting your retinas off with state-of-the-art CGI (I hated the Star Wars prequels). To further delight me, Igor Kornelyuk’s music sounded like an outrageous fusion of Danny Elfman, Carl Orff and Oktoberfest music. Whoa.

2. Our New Years Tree: Yep, we kept it up waaaay past the traditional January 14 disassembly date. Last night when the pizza dude came by, he gave us an odd look, since the tree still blinked cheerily in our living room. At least we were listening to The Cramps instead of Winter Wonderland.

3. Ewbliette, My Savior: Since Ewbliette lives very close to my favorite healthfood/grocery store, she kindly shopped for me while I babied myself to avoid full blown bronchitis (I seriously steer clear of antibiotics). When her car pulled up the driveway, I trotted out to greet her and I almost fell over laughing as she hopped out of her car sporting a professional looking blue surgical mask. Anyway, bless her for the shopping, coughing pillows, cough drops and good cheer.

Bonnie May

4. My Gramma, the Goth Chick: My Gramma’s birthday recently passed and as I browsed through her old photos, I recognized that my enduring love for the macabre and somber came directly from her. With a pang, I realized how sweet my teenage years would have been if she survived. She would have embraced my dark and dramatic inclinations not as an understanding parent tolerating a phase, but as a former sister of a kindred movement, two generations past.

5. Guys Gone Wild: When you are up late coughing/sneezing/sniffing with Steven Colbert reciting the Threatdown in a manner that’s strangely provocative, you can easily tire of the obligatory Girls Gone Wild commercials. Entrez Guys Gone Wild. Oh. My. Goodness. I seriously doubt that they market the program for thirty-something cold-suffering women with unkempt hair and red raw noses. Nevertheless, it’s so nice to see. Please, boys, frolic on!

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