Bahama mama

It takes more than 3 minutes to travel from New York to Nassau or Freeport. I wish it only took 3 minutes, but unless you have access to a Star Trek transporter, it will take you 3 hours.

I've been blessed with opportunities to travel and I have been to the Bahamas several times. I LOVE the Bahamas. Having been there, I feel compelled to point out a few facts that GH seems to have missed:

1) It takes more than 3 minutes to travel from New York to Nassau or Freeport. I wish it only took 3 minutes, but unless you have access to a Star Trek transporter, it will take you 3 hours.

2) Hotels in the Bahamas have casinos so when AJ and Michael wander about past the hotel lobby and bars, we should hear slot machines and see people trying to sell their return airline ticket for more gambling money.

3) Just about everyone is continually wasted on Pineapple, Coconut, or Banana Rum. They will tell you ANYTHING you want to know. Sam didn't really even need her bikini.

4) Bahamian cash is equal to US cash, as in 1 US dollar is = to 1 Bahamian dollar (except their money is prettier and has seashells and starfish on it.) so if AJ is going broke, he will be just as broke there as he would be in Chicago, Detroit, or Port Charles.

5) If no one has offered to braid Sam's hair into cornrows or sell her a straw basket, she is in the wrong country.

I have been calling AJ a weasel but I really must stop, as weasels are kind of cute as you can see if you clicked the weasel link... thus, I must change tactics and call AJ a worm, which are not cute at all and are really pretty icky. I know about worms firsthand as my Dad was a fisherman and sometimes I would have a piece of toast and open a perfectly innocent looking Parkay margarine tub only to find it full of creepy worms my Dad was storing in the fridge for an upcoming fishing trip. I did not want worms on my toast, as again, they are icky. The hurtful lies he is telling Michael make me want to slap the smarmy smile off his lying wormy face. Now that Jason has figured out AJ is alive and has Michael - I am anxiously awaiting another meat hook incident.

Alan was on the roof of the hospital (which once had a secret elevator which went down to Helena's cryogenic lab where her frozen son was thawing out after a 20 year icing, but now seems to have vanished and we just have a bare roof) possibly thinking of jumping, when Courtney told him AJ was alive. Alan, who has not believed ANYTHING Courtney has told him for a month, now suddenly is able to believe this shocker even though he is the one who I.D'ed the body. Talk about a leap of faith.

As to the other Quartermaines; let me say right up front, this is mean. There are people I simply cannot look at. For instance, I like Reba McIntyre. She's a doll. But I cannot watch her sing. When she sings, she contorts her face and only sings out of one side of her mouth. It creeps me out. I can't bear to look. I also love Meg Ryan. I have seen most of her movies and think she's a talented and delightful actress. But since she's had plastic surgery, I can't look at her face anymore. It's not the right face. It's not say, as drastic as a Michael Jackson transformation, but just enough off that it bugs me to look at her. Not to mention "Baby" after she got the nose job. My list is long but you get the idea by now. Recent additions to this list include Emily. Physically, the woman is truly gorgeous; this has nothing to do with her appearance. She's stunning. But when they want Emily to act ANGRY? I close my eyes. It's dreadful, ghastly, horrendous and any other Simon Cowell slam you can dredge up. She scrunches her eyebrows together and crinkles her nose and looks like a 4 year old refusing to eat broccoli instead of an angry adult. Not to mention her fake laugh. When Emily and Monica were reminiscing about all the happy times they had in the Q mansion- I swear I actually heard Emily say "ha ha ha" as she couldn't muster up a genuine laugh. Her lips were barely parted. It was painful to watch. When I was in theatre, they had that "method acting" mentality. If you need to laugh on stage and can't make it genuine, think about the time in grade school when your friend's brother grabbed an electric security fence and all his hair stood on end and chicken noodle soup came out your noses when you laughed at him, or the time it was so hot in Cleveland that you and Betsy were determined to swim in Lake Erie even though there were DEAD FISH all over the top of the water so we got into the lake with tree branches to beat the dead fish away while we swam. We must have been drunk that day; clearly there is no other explanation. Stuff like that never fails to make me laugh. A real laugh, not a "ha ha ha."

My guess is that we needn't worry about the house, as if they actually sold the Q mansion, they would have to build new sets for everyone. Of course, I may be totally wrong and they are going to do away with the Q's altogether and selling their mansion is just the first step. They have already dropped Ned and Lois to "recurring" status which means we will see them probably twice a year, or at weddings and funerals. Brook Lynn is a non-entity as far as I am concerned; the only thing I want to hear out of her is another song. Edward has been nearly invisible since Heather left, which is okay as it's the wrong Edward anyway, Tracy shows up occasionally to bash someone - but hasn't had a meaty storyline since she and Helena were trying to break up Nik and Em's wedding. I want to see Paul Hornsby show up. I want to see Alan and AJ's reunion then Giant Fight. I want to see Skye do something more than mope about Luke. I want Ned to take over L & B and get all the singers of the cast to enter a "Port Charles Idol" contest where we can actually vote someone a record contract with L & B. I want to see Dillon adopt Luke as a Father figure (those two have great chemistry together, don't they?) and see Dillon "save" Luke the way no woman since Laura has been able to. Who knows, maybe Luke and Alan can go to AA together and Skye can be their sponsor.

Speaking of sponsors, maybe I can get Reese to sponsor me, as I have to confess that if I had just been in an explosion and nearly killed by a car bomb in a mobsters' driveway, sex would be the furthest thing from my mind. I might be thinking "How quickly can I get out of here and hide from the person trying to blow me up?" or "Damn, that big gash on my head really hurts." But not "Man, am I ever horny!"

I know lots of other good stuff happened this week that I should be commenting on, but my computer crashed. I am typing blindly right now as my screen is full of little lines and I can't see what I am typing. I am doing that thing my typing teacher used to hate and watching my fingers trying to make sure I get the right keys. Thus, anymore good stuff will have to wait, as I can't read my notes from the week, I can't see what I am typing and I am just too frustrated to continue. Okay, done whining.

What will happen tomorrow dear readers? Hopefully Santa will come early and bring me a new computer and all of my friends who have chaotic lives will find peace and my best pal and I will find a happy resolution to our issues, and Greg and Sue have a good anniversary even though he's a gazillion miles away, and my friend Denay has a great 13th birthday, and you guys will not find too many errors that I can't see to correct and my husband will get home from camping in snow without pneumonia and NuCarly won't suck..

Only tomorrow knows, dear readers, and I will tune in tomorrow as long as there are tomorrows.

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