Comments through July 18, 2003
(Only one little spoiler) 

On Friday this week, I experienced an odd sensation as I visited an alien land.  Not an out of body dream this was a real live Land of Aliens.  My Grandma is visiting from Florida and alternating between my Aunt’s house and my house.  Hot into a product called Noni Juice, my Grandma struck up a conversation with a man on the airplane and talked him into trying a bottle of this miracle drink, which she had to deliver to his place of business.  Alien Land.  Situated in the middle of an upscale business park (the kind of place where each building is an architectural masterpiece which makes you realize that the reason we pay such high prices for products is to cover the cost of multi-million dollar buildings such as these) and seemingly surrounded by forest, the office building boasted a drive in front which did not invite parking and staying.  We parked anyway and tramped inside the glass marvel. 

Nothing to do with my little story.

Eye candy to entertain you between paragraphs. 

The lobby ran from front to back with glass paneling several stories high on the front and back walls.  Elevators and discreet doors with no signs or emblems to hint at what lay behind the plain walls lined each side.  Not a person or a placard marred the dramatic tile and glass vestibule.  Finally, on a door in the corner we spotted a small wall plaque that said simply “Administration” so that’s where we went, into an odd shaped (like a box longer on one end) pinky peach colored lobby with chairs and no windows, just a telephone on the wall.  Willing to play along, I picked up the phone and a pleasant voice asked whom she could connect me to.  I said we were there to make a delivery to my Grandma’s new friend as I looked around for cameras on the wall figuring I was in some top secret FBI or CIA office building.

Never let it be said that I’m sexist. 

A professional woman in power business clothing opened the door and invited us into an office area.  Turning, I glimpsed through a glass door to a training area where class had stopped and all eyes were on my Grandma and me.  I quickly glanced down to make sure my shorts were zipped and there wasn’t some huge bug hanging on my shirt and then realized what an anomaly we were standing there in our shorts and sandals.  Vaguely, I wondered where those people parked their vehicles because nothing so mundane as a parking garage was visible from the grand entrance off the street.  Meanwhile, my Grandma was happily chatting to everyone in sight explaining why we were there, what she was delivering, and by the way, this company also has developed a diet line of drinks and vitamins.  Like I said, HOT on these products and willing to talk them up at every opportunity to anyone in her vicinity.  Her friend was in a meeting and his assistant unavailable so we left the products after my Grandma informed the power suit lady that the guy owed her $42.00.  Watching Ms. Power Suit’s face cracked me up because she had no clue what to do with this strange older woman pitching health products in her office.  Finally, I told my Grandma that we had to go and she wrapped up her talk with two secretaries who had wandered out and become entangled in the Noni juice discussion.

Hey, it is not my fault that there are more cool guy pics than girl pics. 

“It was a nice place to visit but I wouldn’t want to live there,” I thought as I drove away returning to my life of children, teenagers, home maintenance, and writing.  Been there, done that, got the business clothes and heels to prove it.  Reminding myself what normal means to me now, I made it home by 2 p.m. to watch GH. 

A couple outstanding scenes grabbed my attention this week.  The first scene occurred early on Monday as Elizabeth reacted to Carly stepping out of a wall in her house as the blood clot hit her lungs.  Horror and confusion showed clearly on Liz’s face as she lost consciousness as Carly frantically pleaded with Liz to help her.  When Carly finally hooked the telephone with the umbrella, I was yelling, “9-1-1.  Hurry up, Ric’s coming.”  Arriving just in time to snatch the telephone out of Carly’s hands, Ric leaned over Liz pleading with her to wake up.  So I had to yell at him, “9-1-1, dummy!  She might be dying.”  Why did he pick Liz up and carry her out?  If I came home to find a family member unconscious I wouldn’t take time to plead with him to wake up, I’d call for emergency assistance!

Everything about Liz said she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. 

In an unexpected turn of events and another good scene, Faith cried.  The FBI guy asked her what her summons to him was about and answered, “It’s about limits.”  To which he replied, “I didn’t think you had any.”  An apt statement from what Faith has shown us, but she seems to possess a few hidden vulnerable levels.  Like an objection to sleeping with Lorenzo to convince him that she’s working Sonny for the Feds.  Why the sudden objection to using sex?  Oh yeah, because she loves Ric and “even the bad guys get a break once in a while.”  I bet she wouldn’t have had any qualms about shedding her black lingerie if Sonny had taken her up on her offer of hate sex. 

If you look really really close, you can see a tear in her eye. 

And last but not least, Ric sobbed by Liz’s bedside as he revealed his insanity.  It’s official.  I am out of adjectives to describe Ric.  “Love and revenge can’t exist in the same space.  One of them has to be sacrificed.  I have no choice.”  Guess which one Ric chose?  “I love you, Elizabeth.  I will love you forever.  But the only way for me to survive is if you never wake up.  Please forgive me.  I never wanted to hurt you.”  Shudderingly creepy, Ric shared his madness with Liz as she lay in a coma induced by the hormones Ric snuck into her orange juice.  Then he prepared to suffocate the woman he adores.  If I were keeping score, he’d lose a thousand points for considering murder of the woman he loves as an option to save his own skin.  OK, so he didn’t actually snuff out his wife, but he was close so he can have 10 points credit.

I love you.  You must die.

Freak show with a pillow. 

“Ah,” you might say, “you don’t hate Alexis and she committed murder in cold blood also.”  True, she committed murder to avenge her sister and because Luis Alcazar left her writhing in labor pain in the snow.  However, she jumped through hoops to keep Jason and Brenda out of jail and created a defense that allowed her to take the blame without jail time.  Ric kidnapped Carly to steal her baby.  Alexis kept Kristina longer than necessary after Skye and A.J. kidnapped the baby so she could spend time with her daughter.  Ric wavers between wanting Sonny’s approval and obsessing over revenge and payback by keeping Carly.  Alexis masqueraded as Dobson to spend time with her baby but revealed her false identity when it appeared that Cameron might be charged with a crime by assisting her.  My point being that while both characters can have the label insane tattooed on their foreheads, only Ric gets the word evil attached to his label. 

I think I saw Alexis this week.  Or at least I saw a shadow of Alexis underneath the smart, mean, cold as ice woman calling herself Alexis who discussed Kristina’s custody with Ned.  Ned, who blithely discounts the fact that he is unrelated to the baby, didn't appreciate Alexis' hate-filled unrelenting, full custody position.  The same smart, mean woman finally discarded her Dobson facial hair and revealed herself.  Skye played it well as she pressed all Alexis’ buttons, alternating between humiliating Dobson and insulting Alexis, until Alexis felt forced to peel off the beard and confess her crimes.  But I bet Skye’s victory will be short lived when Alexis teams up with Stefan and applies some Cassadine pressure to Skye and Ned.  I can’t wait!

I bet NLG is bummed that she’ll have to spend more time in

hair and make up becoming properly glamorized. 

Pass the duct tape.  I want to slap a piece of it over Judge Farmer’s pompous, unfair mouth.  For a small player, she sure annoys the heck out of me.   

Call it hormones.  Call it a bad attitude.  Courtney needs to get a grip on her fists.  It is just not appropriate for a grown woman to go around decking people whenever she experiences a wave of hostility.  And let’s face facts, it’s a soap and hostility waves are a dime a dozen.  Plus, as much as Faith deserves to be locked in a cell for public safety, turning her into the GH verbal and physical abuse dartboard is not an acceptable substitute punishment.  I know, she’s insane, but no one calls her that.  Whore, slut, bitch, and tramp usually turn up in conversations about and with her.  So she’s into pushing, poisoning, suffocating and snakes.  Really, is that any reason for those around her to sink to her level?  And while I’m remarking upon overuse Ric’s new GH title has become “that bastard”.  True, but time for some innovative dialogue.

A punch to the kisser and a shove to the elevator.

(How come Faith never sports any bruises?)

Courtney thinks she’s Sonny’s female enforcer. 

Here’s a challenge to everyone reading this week.  Let’s think of some new names for Faith because frankly, slut, bitch, tramp and whore are becoming stale.  I have a few to start us out.  Oh, and if you think of any for Ric, that’ll work too.  If I receive more than one or two replies, I’ll post them next week. 

Frightful Faith

Aspiring Mafiosa

Vicious Snakette

Toxic Blond 

Lorenzo inquired of Faith, “Is Sonny aggressive with you?”  What does that mean?  Does Sonny push her away when she tries to rub up against him?  Yes.  Does Sonny verbally put her down every time he speaks to or about her?  Yes.  Does Sonny willingly stand in her presence or conduct conversation with her?  No.  Thinking about the situation I’d be more inclined to say Faith verbally and mentally abuses Sonny and if she were physically able, she’d probably force him to have sex with her.  It’s a backward situation.  As a woman, I experience an unpleasant gut reaction seeing Faith abused.  However, she’s so terrible I understand why others emphatically push her away and treat her badly.   

Breath in.  Breath out.  Feel the presence.  That would be Sonny “feeling” Carly at Ric’s house.  And from the feeling he concluded that Ric had Carly.  After weeks of wavering back and forth between Ric and Alcazar what a relief that he finally experienced a “feeling” that made it clear Ric kidnapped Carly.  A day or so later I thought he was undecided again when he comforted Ric in the hospital as Ric agonized at Liz’s bedside.  I thought I was gonna have to write something bad about his wishy washy attitude until he explained to Michael that he was faking. 

It’s gas.  No, it’s goosebumps.  No…it’s a feeling! 

Sonny played Ric.  Alcazar played Ric like a master as he held up the revenge will be sweet scenario dangling Sonny’s pain at losing Carly and Ric’s victory in keeping Sonny’s child from him.  Unable to help himself Ric sucked up Alcazar’s reasoning and couldn’t let go of his blame Sonny for everything mindset.   

If it’s true that a person in a coma hears and remembers what’s being said around her, Liz should wake up with a trailer load of inside info.  Ric confessed all while she slept.  Sonny pumped her for information about Carly.  Jason warned her that Ric would kill her if she stayed with him.  Audrey begged her to fight hard and then told Liz that she’d be close by.  I wondered at her definition of close by since she missed the marriage, the miscarriage, the snakebite, and the poisoning. 

I’ll be close by, as the crow flies, perhaps in a European country. 

Do you suppose that Maxie, out of candy striper kindness slipped into Liz’s room to apply her lip-gloss?  ‘Cause everyone knows you can’t do a coma properly without a coat of gloss.  

Gloss for the comatose. 

Lorenzo visited Liz in her hospital room and warned her about her dangerous husband because????  The writers needed to fill airtime? 

Liz isn’t Ric’s only problem.  Who’s feeding Carly while he keeps vigil at Liz’s bedside? 

Perhaps Alcazar will buy Carly some nicer maternity clothes while she’s his hostage.   

Note to drug running Alcazar men - your boat’s gonna blow.  Wouldn’t it be poetic justice if Carly somehow blew up Lorenzo’s yacht? 

Sonny must own the fastest most powerful jet on the planet that is able to fly from upper New York to an island near Puerto Rico in ten minutes (approximately one GH segment).  Talk about leaping buildings in a single bound, the jet flew back home with Jason, Courtney and Michael in the same amount of time.  I figured Jason was in a hurry to return to Port Chuck before any scriptwriter came up with another lame love scene for Jason and Courtney.  Oh, what am I thinking?  I forgot about the once every six months rule.  It’s only been four months since he took his shirt off (mid March) so we have another two months to go before he shows some chest again.

Did you really expect chest and passion?  Pfft! 

Dillon sees Jason.  Dillon wants to be like Jason.  Dillon wants to be free like Jason.  Dillon ends up in jail like Jason.  The storyline played well for the teens this week.  Not that I care about them, but they were all so truly teenagerish.  Brash action with no thought to consequences ruled the day.  Dillon had a sleepover in jail when Edward refused to pay his way out of trouble because Dillon’s mouth overloaded his brain (a common Q downfall).  Georgie, in her new cute haircut, saved him by walking into the open front door of the Quartermaine mansion and finally netted Ned’s attention.  Ned bailed Dillon out of the doggie cage in the middle of the PCPD (where’s the toilet in that thing?) and Dillon promptly bit the hand that helped him by saying he didn’t want to owe anyone. 

I was going to make a pithy comment like Porcupine Head

Regarding the first picture and then I found the second picture.

No more hair comments from me just the occasional snort of laughter. 

Scotty told Ned (about Dillon), “He’s got a bad attitude.”  To which Ned replied with my favorite line of the week, “Considering you’re corrupt and incompetent, you really don’t have a lot of room to criticize, do you?” 

Spotting Jason at Kelly’s, Dillon approached him for a job.  Demonstrating his naiveté, he made his pitch of skills, pick pocketing and hotwiring, while Jason gazed at him like he had two heads and a lisp.  Meanwhile, at the hospital Georgie, Maxie (playing candy striper without stripes) and Kyle were having a spat in the hall of the hospital.  Loud, obnoxious, self absorbed, yep they were teenagers true to form. 

Where ARE those stripes?

And what’s Maxie REALLY doing on her break time? 

In an interesting twist, Gia tried to protect Zander by warning Nicholas to stay out of the way of Zander’s relationship with Emily.  It didn’t happen as Emily made a beeline for Nico as soon as she heard the bad news about chemo.  A part of me wants her to quit running to Nicholas because she’s supposed to love Zander.  Another part of me thinks she should lean on whomever she feels she can until she beats the cancer.  The rights, wrongs, hurts and intense emotions can be sorted out later.  I am sure I’ll regret what I just wrote if she breaks Zander’s heart.

I feel hearts aching and breaking.  I think a music montage is in order.

SHAMELESS EOS, MAKE CAROLYN FEEL GOOD, PLUG.  I tap out my column each week hoping to entertain someone or make contact with others who agree or disagree with the way I see GH and what’s going on around me.  We have many wonderful columnists who do the same.  Even with a counter on the bottom of my page, I seldom register the numbers.  Mostly, I enjoy the e-mail responses I receive.  Carolyn, filled with sinus angst this week, needs to know she is not writing in vain.  So, could you please drop her an e-mail?  Let her know you’re reading?  Otherwise, I am going to have to stop waterproofing my deck to call her several times a day and tell her how wonderful she is.  And she really is.  Wonderful, I mean 

Hurricane Claudette swept through my area at the beginning of the week causing high winds and a few thunderstorms.  Several areas along the coast were hit hard with damage to many buildings.  The most disturbing part of the 24 hours of severe weather was the press and their obvious enthrallment with the sound of their own voices.  News coverage in this day and age is a marvelous entity.  However, if I see the same pieces of debris being swept across the road every 20 minutes or so, it’s time to get off the air.  Topping the insanity was a reporter from a local channel who traveled to the coast to stand outside in the hurricane, barely able to stand in the high winds, unable to see the building behind him, endangering his cameraman so he could show the force of Hurricane Claudette.  I shook my head in amazement.  Not at his bravery, but at his stupidity.  If a piece of debris had struck him or his cameraman dead, the news media would mourn him like a fallen hero.  I’d be rolling my eyes at his unnecessary death because he didn’t have the sense to come in out of a hurricane.  How stupid is that?  The next day, according to a news reporter from the same channel, the dramatic footage was picked up and aired nationwide.  It wasn’t war or a hostage situation.  No, it was a dingaling unable to differentiate between news and pointless danger.  I am bringing this up because if you happened to see the footage, I wanted to tell you that the rest of us were safely inside.  Please don’t judge us by one reporter with an insatiable desire for attention and no sense.  Have a wonderful week full of breezes carrying the scent of flowers but not allergies, rains that wet the ground but don’t flood, and sunshine that warms but doesn’t roast.  Thanks for reading. 

http://www.internetbumperstickers.com

Photo credit for this week:  http://groups.msn.com/GHWorld3/shoebox.msnw 

Carolyn took this picture of a sunset in Italy this year.

Wasn’t it nice of God to give us color?