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October 24, 2006
This
week’s entrée was a seared Ric Lansing, simmered in a broth of stewing
Cassadine anger and served up with a side of labor. It was tastier than you
might have thought at first bite.
I see a
light at the end of the tunnel. We’ve been subjected to months of Alexis
manipulating those around her to do what she thinks she wants. It’s made no
sense at all and smacked of a woman giving up on life completely. Well,
today I remembered the Alexis I love. The one who isn’t completely neurotic
and is willing to fight to protect herself and her own. You know, the one
who plotted with Luke to off Helena. The one who knew from the moment baby
Kristina first moved that she had to keep her out of Sonny’ world. Dare I
say, the one who goes by the name Natasha? I can feel the thrill of a
Cassadine soul rising to the surface. It was beautiful how she tore Ric’s
case against Jason into itty-bitty shreds. I could see her last vestiges of
patience dry up as Ric tried to plead his second case of the day that Alexis
is only with him because she couldn’t have Sonny. The man must be close to
insanity—he doesn’t have a shred of evidence for either case. He’s
desperate and Alexis sees it and is no longer going to accept it for her
children. Which means she’s going to fight to live. It is Alexis’ way or no
way. She’s a Cassadine. They won’t accept less and we wouldn’t want less
of them.
Skye
summarized both Luke and Lorenzo so beautifully in between contractions. I
didn’t know labor brought such moments of true clarity. I especially
enjoyed it when she explained how Lorenzo liked to think of himself as a
“tragic intellectual.” So fitting. If he does ever get over his mob lust,
he should consider becoming an ob-gyn. He’s got the experience, the cool
head, and plenty of clients with all the pregnant women around. I highly
doubt that any women would prefer sassy brassy Dr. Lee to the charms of a
Latin lov….err, doctor, I mean doctor. Dr. A and the Women, anyone?
There is
no greater example of the limitations of GH writers than the “romance” of
Robin and Patrick. These two spark enough electricity to run the hospital
elevators during their frequent breakdowns yet their only dialogue is “Aids,
HIV, infection, Aids.” That’s so romantic, it makes me want to swoon.
Egads, the conversations aren’t even logical anymore. Dr. Noah and
Dr. Robin wouldn’t waste two seconds worrying that Patrick might get
exposed again to the virus. Didn’t we just spend a month being told about
how unlikely such exposures are and their near nil chance that such
accidents would result in infection? To act like Patrick wants to operate
on AIDS patients as a thrill ride is ridiculous after all that. There’s no
thrill if it isn’t risky, which is what I thought we learned this summer
during the GH AIDS Afterschool Special. By the way, I’m going to be quite
upset if Alan doesn’t fire both of them for badmouthing their colleague like
that. Way to ask for a malpractice suit. Does Patrick’s superior surgeon
skills come from sucking them out of his fellow surgeons? Seems so being as
he’s the only surgeon able to perform surgeries in the whole hospital.
That’s the real reason Tony died; Patrick sucked the life out of him to make
himself “brilliant.” Please, dear Soap Opera Godmother, let us actually
have a whole scene between Robin and Patrick that doesn’t mention the
disease. Can’t you ban the words from the writers’ vocabulary? Maybe
throw a little scrubs seduction in there while you’re at it! I don’t think
I’ve seen any shirtless men since the blackout of doom.
Anyone
else know why Nikolas would want a cup of coffee before he laid down for a
nap? I’m stumped.
The
Gourmez
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