Note to self: make more backups, doofus!
Friday afternoon/evening meant three days work in three hours. Ack. Missed most of Stargate, and even some of D&P. Oh well.
Woke up on Saturday with the most dreadful hangover, which is entirely unfair as I'd gone to bed early with a cup of hot chocolate like the very dull person (and very tired) that I am. This put the kybosh on any writing, as planned, drats. In fact it was fast approaching noon before I could even look at a dvd. I wouldn't have been up before two, being a natural late riser, but those other mongrels consider 6am sleeping in and will thump and stomp and clatter and bang until I'm up, even when I'm under doctor's orders to stay abed.
So I dug out my ye olde dvd of Goldeneye, one of those early zone 4 pressings that consider a menu, colour and sound to be special features, rather than germane to the medium of talking pictures. No special features at all and the picture quality is worse than my vcr copy, but never mind. It's not the best film, and it's hard to watch it without thinking of Austin Powers or that Simpsons episode, or indeed my own MST3K version, you know, humming the Thunderbirds theme when the satellite dish starts emerging from the mountain, making water down the bath noises as the lake empties, that sort of thing. Ah, Derek, bless.
Still, I did get ideas on how to finish one 006 fic, by using some of the really stupid inconsistencies in the 'plot' as part of the story. I think that was my plan, anyway (I kept wondering what happened in 1997 to stop me cold halfway through a series of fics, then I remembered). Note to self: include story notes and plot ideas on the damn files, doofus.
Still bemused at how much Boris resembles geeky ex-coworker. Still disturbed at the amount of Joe Don Baker lurking in my dvd collection. Mitchell!
After that I indulged in X2, and noticed that it shared two castmembers with Goldeneye, which amused. I mean, I'm surprised Famke ever got work after Goldeneye, I mean, really. Mmmm, Scott/Logan hugging.
Meanwhile, Aged Parent found a bottle of Cadbury's chocolate liquer up the back of the cupboard that somebody had given me as a joke and as I didn't seem to be imbiding it at a sufficient level of useage (one minute she's accusing me of being an alchololic like my father, the next minute any booze I'm not consistently dropping the level on is fair game) she decided to use it up to soak the fruit in a fruit cake.
Oh, but what a cake. That is some seriously heavy shit, which is why I was only touching it up on special occasions. Now, in spite of my girth, I'm not a cake person, loathe the stuff, though I bet everyone thinks I eat nothing but cake all day and all night (with buckets of icecream). On Saturday I did, though (just the cake, not the icecream). Had two slices that wiped me out so thoroughly I forgot to watch Smallville. Forgot to tape it, too, bugger, though setting a tape when you're arsefaced always means getting some tv evangelist at 2 am.
Damn and blast, and I'd been looking forward to my Lex fix all week. And S2 isn't out on dvd yet. Sulk and pout, but it was my own silly fault. And just when I was thinking it was about time I wrapped up that Smallville fic I've been working on for ages. I just need to delete a few scenes hanging off the end and just leave it where it sort of ends more naturally. I can always use those other bits later. If I do that, it's pretty much ready to go. Or would have been, if I'd spent Saturday night curled up with paper and pencil and basking in the cathode glow (instead of passed out like a snorting drunk from two slices of very heavy fruit cake).
Sunday did not feature a hangover, weirdly. Read another book in my Jeeves omnibus, flipped through the papers, attended to my famliars and found some Stargate episodes for a friend.
Stargate was interrupted by Perfect Strangers, which I did remember to watch. Love my Matty. It's the voice, definitely the voice, and the blue eyes, and the way that stiff upper lip almost crumbles at times, and he's a damn fine handsome man. I didn't like this first time around, found it a bit confronting. I guess that's because it's a bit close to the bone, me completely not knowing any of my rich and fancy cousins. Oh yes, it's exactly like that. This time around I enjoyed it, appreciating it for its truth, and Matty's beauty.
Hmmm, just found some LOTR manga. It's not quite as amusing as the Phantom Menance manga I once saw. Apparently the PM manga folks were privy to an entirely different fillum to the one I watched. Or maybe I just found it so dire I couldn't be bothered watching it wrong, which is odd, because often the art of watching it wrong is the only thing that can get me through seriously bad fillums.
Say I'm watching a fillum for Actor X, and possibly Actor Y, and it's as dire as dire can be. Yet Character X is trying to enlist Character Y to partake of this bank heist, and X and Y first get very sweaty in a gym together, which raises an eyebrow as it always does, but then X makes Y dinner, and it's a full on gourmet multi-course extravaganza with candles, fine wine and rolled up cloth napkins and I'm starting to think at this point that I'm actually not watching it wrong and X is indeed seducing Y, and very overtly at that, too.
Of course, I could just be mistaken, but I doubt it. Oh, the film I'm thinking of is a horrible little telefillum that features Sam Neill (why I was watching it) and Rob Lowe, and filmed in Vancouver, because I doubt there's an square centimetre of Vancouver I don't recognise by sight these days. It's only fun to watch because Sam is so wickedly oily. It's amusing to imagine Alan as the alpha, and not Billy, though it's pretty clear who wears the pants in that relationship - smirk.
This morning I was all sleepy and I DID NOT WANT TO GO IN TO WORK. I wanted to stay home and write (and sleep). Well, tough. Unhappily when I got in I found my bag open and my disks gone and it took three hysterical calls home before the disks were finally found down the back of the couch and my heart could start beating again. Of course, this means there's no fic to be written today and I am so not a happy camper, and I lack disks.
Never mind. Happy birthday to my fellow, longsuffering, Caps (you know who you are - grin). Everybody, sing: "Always look on the bright side of life..."
who's your male wench?
this quiz by belle