Horror! Calamity! There were no tea bags! Fortunately one of the chaps managed to scrounge some, perhaps realising that the life he saves may be his own.
I mean, me without tea bags, on today of all days, would be like Angel without his blood, Stephen without his drugs. Heh, I was always amused that Angel was portrayed, across the entire series, as so very much not a morning person. Hee.
Oh dear. I've seen several people now put spoiler warnings on postings about Troy. Can the Iliad still be really spoiler worthy? I mean, really? I mean I know we take a decade or more to get US telly out here, but, well, isn't it just going a wee bit overboard? Just a tad? I mean, I appreciate the sentiment, intended with the purest of hearts, but, well, seems a bit silly to me.
So I managed to secure the M-Day pressie (or face a fate worse than a fate worse than death). This time the crone had requested (or possibly demanded, stabbing a bony finger at the catalogue) one of them garden kneeler things, which is basically a padded step with big metal handrails/handlebars. Awkward to get down off the shelf, awkward to carry and awkward to get home on the bus and impossible to sneak through the door. I'm bruised and beaten like a POW and folks must think I'm naturally a purple piebald. Worse, everyone in the mall kept looking at me and thinking 'look at that fat bitch, she can't even get up by herself'. So not true. My knee might click after the incident in Paris with the slippery cobblestones and the gargoyles, but I can get up and down just fine, thankyou. Up until very recently I could still walk on my knees while in the lotus position. So there. Hmph.
It wasn't a bad shopping trip per se, because I had good company, but I do so loathe that mall, though K-Mart was a little less everything open, broken and on the floor this time, so I didn't flee in absolute horror (and they had lots of dvd crack). There was more security around, which helped, though there was still street theeatre in the form of crazy people. I think I do prefer the snobbish quiet of the nicer mall. Plus you don't get held up for half an hour by someone paying for everthing with six different vouchers. Ah, the joys of living in a white trash suburb.
I had a nice chai that hit the spot in ways I can't begin to describe after a hard night's hunting and gathering, and I picked up a pot for my new baby kangaroo paw that I bought at the garden show (it was only $4). I also managed to find and layby mother's B-Day pressie, which is extraordinarily organised of me. Now I just have to remember that I've layby'd AP's b-day pressie. Ah well.
It took forever to get home as the bus strike, while officially averted, was sneakily in effect as all the buses went past going only to 'not in service' (which gets the bulk of our buses, I must say) if they came past at all. Instead of seven buses so scheduled there was only one, and me with the big metal handlebar thing, mind. And it was cold. And misty. In fact the misty moon was rather fab.
Finally got home to catch the end of Charmed and Bro's super fantastic garlic bread which went with the rather average pasta and storebought sauce I'd bought to have on hand to whip up for tea on a night I was held up and late. Fortunately the folks had already taken dinner matters in hand and all I had to do was eat.
Watched SVU (with Bro providing the MST3K commentary) and then we switched over to Mondo Thingo and caught an Orlando interview, of all things, on Calcium Kid (and I remain amazed at the speed of my reflexes in grabbing the remote and hitting record after a long day and night) and the silly bit on Van Helsing through the ages. I love Mondo Thingo as they, too, think that Dracula films with go go boots just can't possibly be all bad. Giggle. (You know, working as a researcher on that show would be a dream match, but alas...)
I am also still spewing over not being able to get my Kung Fu dvd set signed. Damn you AP. Grizzle. Grumble. Pout.
Proof that I do get out and about: I had to through favourite khaki skirt of the many pockets into the wash because, well, it could stand up by itself, and, as I'm enough of a saddo to have a spare of my can't live without skirt (or, more precisely, the many pockets), I noticed it was several entire shades lighter. Wow. No wonder my skin is peeling, that's some strong sun. Of course, that's my skin, too. Last week it was so oily the Yanks were drawing up half arsed invasion plans. This week it looks like I could take a few skin care tips off Ramses II. Sigh. Mutter.
Bro is still having a wheeze over America being too demure and prissy for Menzies era television, the Menzies era being noted for its conservatism. So even at our most conservative, we're too spicy for the Yanks. Explains why I get in trouble with the gals everytime I open my mouth (or type). Heh.
And I forgot to mention that SVU was all about the sadistic cruelty to pledges (including rape and murder) at a college frat house. And that's the US officer class for you. And they wonder how just things could happen? Never mind that they just do, a quick look at Goya will show you the sort of thing that went on in Sharpe's day, but you worry when that sort of thing is actively encouraged, in schools, never mind the army. Scary stuff. This is why all that marriage is a sacred deal bullshit makes me laugh. Marriage is only ever about the transfer of property, and we're just sweating grunting animals anyway, and as far from sacred as we are from the start of the big bang.
Oops, hormones again. I think it's time for another chai tea. Surely, it must be.
And, to end on an upbeat note, my copy of the Big Gay Boat fillum finally arrived. I was getting desperate enough to think of renting it. No, I wasn't buying the Zone 4 version. I wanted the nicely boxed Zone 1 version with maps and booklets and the like. Loverly stuff. As Bro says, the Z4 versions are just never made with any love like Z1 or Z2 with their booklets and fancy boxes. We never get booklets or fancy boxes. Weep. Pout. But never mind, because I have my copy at last. Whee. This weekend I'll be enjoying the company of Jack and his hetero life mate Stephen (to steal from insidian)