So I stalked off home. Much better. I'd intended to get stuck into the bathroom, but ended up on the couch going urgle instead. That cold I'd been fighting off, much like my dummy spit, had been a long time coming and finally it wasn't going to take no for an answer.
Put it this way, I was pale enough for AP to leave me alone and offer tea. And, I got home in time for Buffy and it was the one with The Gentlemen. Cool episode. Not an absolute fave, but definitely up there, mainly just for Giles' presentation. Ah, Giles. I was in the mood for Giles and Spike, so I was happy.
Then there was Who. The one with the Silurians. AP bustles in and asks if this is the one with the "green sluggy things?" Really, she'll have to be more specific than that - grin. Nope, here we've got wobbly caves, dragony looking monsters (I think it's meant to be a dinosaur, but, well, really), Silurians and whacked out reactor boffins. And of course, the Brig. I love the Brig, and I love the way he gives as good as he gets, sniping back and forth with the Dr. Yay classic old telly.
And I finally got to watch my episode of Firefly. Out of Gas, one of my favourites and an absolute classic and proof that JW can do grownup stuff if he wants to. Damn, give me more Firefly. Pout. Whine.
Which brings me to my theory that I actually live in a Hell dimension. How else can you explain Paris Hilton getting a second series while Firefly and Angel are axed, never mind reality tv, Dubya and, the most damning evidence of all, the Laura Brannigan remix album.
Last episode of S4 Angel where Wes finds he has nothing in his manners book on how to greet an ex lover recently and personally beheaded, Gunn declares he's no lawyer, Fred declares she's not evil, the whole Connor misfire of a plot is wrapped up/erased/reset and we meet Knox and the shiny offices of W&H. You know, it's all much more sinister the second time around.
Without a Trace. They were whining about the hair on a list I'm on (but I'm thinking about dropping) and I thought they were nuts, then I started, and I want to stop, so I won't say anything but I will admit to sitting there squirming, the exact way Dan and Roseanne squirmed over Mark's hair in Roseanne (poor Glen). Though I note from the trailer that next week at least Tony gets a haircut, yay. This week Danny and Martin actually shared a frame, whoo and hoo. That was it, but hey, at least there were actual seconds of Martin footage, and some of it included Danny in shot. Good thing I love Danny, too, or I'd despair. This one got a great write up in the Herald so naturally by the time came for watching I was a tad underwhelmed and felt I'd seen the same old stalky arch nemesis plot many, many times before. Hell, it was old when Moriarty was a lad. Never mind. Tony goes for the Emmy, emoting to burst, and manages to save the day and the arch nemesis goes splat. Back to business as usual next week, I guess.
Btw, I am suddenly desiring to read Jack/Stephen. A nudge towards any communities or archives I could trawl would be most appreciated.
Especially as I'm growing a little bored with POTC. The usual snobby thing about it being overrun by barely pubescent girls with the literacy skills of a monkey. Less so, in some cases, because Bonobos are intelligent creatures.
Then there's that one small niggle that annoys you, and only you, and everyone else thinks you're mad and in need of a bex and a good lie down. In the case of POTC fic, I find it difficult to overcome the constant notion that Will Turner, upon marrying Elziabeth, would be raised to her station. The stories then usually go on with Will unhappy about a life of cucumber sandwiches and running off with Jack afterall, hello Mills & Boon template.
Have these children not read Jane Austen or anything else written earlier than the 20thC? Will, bless their little feminists hearts, would not be accepted into polite society. Elizabeth would become the wife of a colonial blacksmith, and one with the taint of piracy no less. She'd be a social leper if nothing else. A more realistic plot would be Elizabeth, unable to bear the sudden harsh realities of her new life either perishing of an illness, perishing popping out a bairn, having affairs with men like Norrington, or worse, being ruined, running off or just doing away with herself, Anna Karenina style.
Oh dear...I think I hear the snapping jaws of a plot bunny. Somebody hand me my grandfather's rifle, and I'll get the bugger (apparently my grandmother was a crack shot when it came to rounding up bunnies for the cooking pot - and don't squeal, it was the Depression/WWII/rationing, different times).
That said, I'm currently reading Black Waters by sheilanexet and enjoying it immensely. Back in the land of Ezra, I also enjoyed Fare Thee Well by MAC though the very last bit of the ending didn't ring true for me. Up til then though, I enjoyed it very much.
which art movement are you?
this quiz was made by Caitlin