Just heard that line chirped by Ella on the reincarnated version of Melrose Place. Too funny. Actually, though I've read my share of Yelp reviews, I haven't written any myself. But hey, if Yelp is being hawked on Melrose Place, it must have arrived!
I spent yesterday feeling like warmed over crap. After surviving the whole winter without getting sick once, I got something yesterday, probably courtesy of my dear husband, who was sick over the weekend. So while I was lying in bed with a fever and a nasty cough, I watched some movies I'd been planning to see for awhile. One of the films I watched was called Private Practices: The Story of a Sex Surrogate. This film, which was made in the mid 1980s, is a documentary about a woman named Maureen Sullivan who worked as a sex surrogate. That is, guys with sexual or intimacy problems came to her for therapy...
Though the film was dated and very clinical, I found it fascinating. It was very clear that Maureen was a therapist, first and foremost. Though these guys were seeing her naked and actually having sex with her, the goal was therapy, not personal gratification. It also occurred to me that it must take a special kind of person to be a sex surrogate... you're dealing with fragile egos along with fragile cojones.
So today, everything is covered in nasty green and yellow pollen. I'm still coughing and feeling kind of yucky... but at least I'll be getting all of this over with before next Friday when it's vacation time at last!