Oh, there are no factors. I say Lolivya all the way.

That is a very awesome trip, sara! I like your family.

Lolivya you can just buy outright, so I vote that.

I don't know! Both seem equivalent. Lolyvia has a butler. I'd find out which caters most to those well familiar with the location. You want exceptional service and maybe don't need the tourguidey type. Plus whichever is likely to be most stable.

there's always the possibility that my yard is just a projection of my subconscious.

My yard is untidy, full of things that don't need to be there, poorly lit, and not very comfortable to hang out in. So, almost certainly a projection of my subconscious.

sarameg, that trip looks awesome! I b jellis.

ita !, I pick Lolivya too!

OMG the skies out in the desert. Magic.

Oh, this is on my bucket list. "1) See ALL THE STARS from the desert."

That trip sounds utterly fabulous, sarameg

See ALL THE STARS from the desert

This is something I very much want to do at some point. Heck, I want to see the desert, period.

Signed,
Never been to the southwest

It wasn't full, no one around desert, but the night sky over a big SCA war site far enough away from Phoenix and only lit on the ground by torches and camp fires was cool.

Not as cool at the war I went to in Podunk, Idaho, where the full moon was so bright that no one lit their torches until moonset. That 1 AM trip to the john was amazing, walking down the trail under moonlight.

Man, Jasika Nicole has a post about a less-than-stellar encounter she had with Tommy Davidson at Comic Con. I am way too pleased about that. I've met him twice. The first time was at the Just For Laughs comedy festival, and I had a "thing". I was collecting autographs from some of the more famous comedians for my cousin (the one who played Wimbledon this year, actually). I quickly developed a spiel--I would make up a long rambling story about how she was deaf dumb and blind and she was a really big fan and she'd love an autograph.

Most people got my angle pretty quickly--and I got laughs. I remember Gilbert Gottfried, Bobcat Goldthwait, Brett Butler--all totally nice about the whole thing, and I was collecting quite the stack of signatures for my very not impaired cousin who was nonetheless still a great fan.

Then, it was time to ask Tommy. Lapse in his conversation. He was standing by himself, nursing a drink, so I go up to him and work my bit. But, no Tommy's busy he says. Why don't you go over there, he says, and gestures at a younger, greener black comedian sitting at the edge of the room (I wish I could remember his name--I'm shamed that I don't) I'm sure he has time for you. And as I was leaving to go talk to the guy with the Muslim name I CAN'T REMEMBER, I ask Tommy--"I'm here every summer. I've never seen you at the festival before. What are you usually doing?"

"I'm usually filming movies."

"I've never seen you in one."

"Ace Ventura."

"Nope."

"Booty Call."

"Nope. Maybe I just don't watch your kind of movies"

So I roll my eyes, and go over to talk to other guy. Which was really interesting--we chatted for over a half hour about comedy, movies, basketball, life--lots of fun.

The way the Comedy Festival works, you're milling around the Delta Hotel for three or four days, and it comes alive especially at night--the bar runs along one side of a long corridor, and conference rooms where they hold related parties and the restaurant runs along the other. Everyone's got to mingle, got to see who's in the other room, check and see that there's fun being missed.

I started making a thing of rolling my eyes whenever I passed Tommy, and he rolled his back at me. Once he bumped into me, and was kinda put-upon apologetic. I was all "Yeah, sure, that was on purpose. Do that again, and I call the cops." And then things kept escalating to the point where I was hipchecking him whenever we passed within inches of each other, and then acting like he'd shoved me and I was all mad about it.

And then, festival ends, moving on no big deal.

Six to eight months later, I'm in Nassau for a wedding, and we'd gone to check out the Atlantis resort. I picked up a paper with Tommy's face on it--he's playing while we're there.

"Give me twenty dollars, Daddy."

"For what?"

"Twenty dollars." I grind out. "I'm good for it. My wallet's back at the house. Seriously. Give it to me."

The signs say that there are two tickets left, and as I'm going back to the ticket office, someone's ahead of me in line. Pisser.

Person turns around.

It's Tommy.

Now, in this interim, I've started dyeing my hair blonde. In my head, this is an impenetrable disguise, the likes of which have not been seen since Clark Kent's glasses. But he squints at me anyway.

"I know you. From Montreal. You're...you're.."

"Yeah, I'm her. And, yeah, I'm buying a ticket for your show. Got a problem with it?"

"Uh, no?"

"Okay, good."

The show was decent, for a guy I found irritating (I'm unapologetically partial that way), and he came over to talk to me after the set. We chat and chat, and the time before his second set is running out, and he asks:

"Come in and stay for the second set, yeah, and then we....can talk some more afterwards?"

And then everything--the disdain, the brushoff, the hipchecking, came rushing back, and ... yeah. No.

"Actually! I really have to go. I'm pretty sure it's past my bedtime. Thanks though! Good luck!"

So, when Jasika describes him as an ass to her with her (continued...)

( continues...) famousness and her beauty, I remember him just being a general ass to whoever's standing around and thinking "You couldn't suck it up for her? HER? Seriously? No shame, man."

The articles I've seen say that Excedrin Extra Strength is going for $144/bottle and Migraine for $245, as noted in my original post.

Sloppy reading, my bad. See, that's just crazycakes when there are generics available. I mean, I know that in some cases, generic Rxs don't seem to work the same as the name brand, but I have to believe with something as basic as the Excedrin pain reliever mix that wouldn't be the case. But, hey, if I still had a bottle of Excedrin for Migraine, I'd gladly sell if for $245. BUT! I find it hilarious that the two formulations listed above are exactly the same, yet one is going for $100 more.

My kitchen is clean, clean, clean -- all mopped and everything even -- Sail was my inspiration, and bottom level floors swept, and rug vacuumed. There's another rug to vacuum, but, inexplicably, I decided to pull out the filters and wash them before I did the second rug. Whatever.

I would like temporary admission to sarameg's family for the trip and the good times. As long as I could maintain dual familyship.

And, finally, thanks for the link, aurelia.

I've come across a couple generics where I'd be willing to pay extra for name brands, because the generic binder was so disgusting. I have no idea what they're doing inside of me, but the pills would fall apart in my mouth, and make me gag so badly I was having trouble swallowing. I have little reason to think (some, but not all, and I have no idea which some, or how to do the research) generics could be making noticeable differences in how the drugs are affecting me.

But, seriously, once drugs get into my body, I think I'm mostly just praying for the placebo at this point. I feel nothing actually gets absorbed.

I told my sister (and all the other people who don't know who exist, but I insisted you get a vote) that you preferred the Lolivya. They both have staff to do our cooking (we buy (or pay for-not sure) groceries, but don't do the heavy lifting.

Wait--do we have to mix our own drinks? Yikes.