Toddled off to the mall yesterday for another go at getting Xmas in hand. Found the most wicked Xmas ornament, which I'll have to tell you about tomorrow because I forgot to take a photo last night, was tempted into buying a sugary confection of a frappacino from Starbucks which made for much happiness (later there was an ick factor).
Why I'm running around trying to get Xmas dinner squared away and ready to be deployed at a moment's notice is that after Friday the 13th I'll be the only man on deck (oh dear) and it'll be 12 hour days if I'm lucky so I have to get everything organised now. So we've got to defrost the fridge to make sure it'll fit a small frozen turkey, clear out and clean the cupbords before restacking them with tinned vegetables (alas after the local fruit shop closed and I changed the route I go to work I just don't get a chance to pick up fresh fruit and veg without a two hour bus ride). The house has to be cleaned so that any friends or relatives who feel duty bound to drop by are not alarmed by Tales of the Crypt style cobwebs or dust bunnies of unusual size. New table linen has to be bought - there's no point in holding it up to the light and checking for holes as our organic foodie moths always go for the good stuff up the back of the linen closet. In fact the currawongs have been eating the huntsman spiders so there are more moths this year than usual. The china has to be examined for cracks and chips and replaced if necessary, the silverware needs to be polished and all the shelves dusted and the windows and curtains washed before the decorations go up. Crackers, wrapping paper and presents need to be bought, cards and letters need to be sent before the overseas cut off date. It's enough to keep a regiment of squaddies busy, let alone one working glass gal. No wonder I start drinking heavily in December. I stop once I get past Epihany, but until then...it's uphill all the way.
I was sober when I clocked myself though, because I've not really started with the drinking yet, though I've every reason to. I'm learning the hard way that the phrase of having one's bell rung is startlingly accurate as I do feel as though my poor noggin has been used as the clapper in some huge medieval church bell. Ouch, hurty hurty. So I went to the doc yesterday just to make sure my achy breaky head wasn't about to fall off and he said that by not taking it easy I was going to suffer for my sins for another week or so. This is where virtue and hardwork get me, because instead of dashing off to casualty I just sat on the couch with a blood soaked tea towel congealing to the top of my head while polishing all the brass and copper, albeit slowly, because this was my one week off and nobody else was going to do it. Nobody did, either, not even when I went up to lie down for a bit on Thursday. Oh well.
Smallville: Club Zero at last, at a new later timeslot, which works better for me anyways. We open with Lex trussed up and hanging upside down like a side of beef. Well, I've got expectations now, let me tell you, and for once I actually really enjoyed the episode. Maybe it was an especially good episode, maybe it was the lack of the green rocks plot tm, maybe it was all the other threads they started to tie together, maybe it was just the lack of EC9's chainsaw editing. Though EC9 did make up for the lack of censorship by running hobbits across the screen far more times than was strictly necessary, usually during a nice Lex closeup so if I ever had the time, inclination and web space to do screen caps, they'd be all hobbity anyway.
So Lex has been a bad, bad boy, though really all we get to see is Lex behaving like any cashed up little oik. Really, in the bad boys stakes the crown princes of England leave Lex looking like some acoustic guitar playing Christian. Lex gets all huffy about his past and leaves Clark pouting on the footpath. Poor Clark, dissed by your high maintenance honey again. I like prickly Lex, he's even sexier than smooth Lex. Meanwhile Chloe has decided to do a Clark expose that leaves no stone or green rock unturned as she digs up details of Clark's very dodgy adoption. Oh come on. I used to work on adoption paperwork and I know the US isn't at all regulated or legislated like we are and I can't imagine Clark's adoption is any less suspect than all those celebrity adoptions. All the Kent's have to say is they bought some crack ho's baby on e-bay, end of story. It'd even explain why Clark is such a space cadet, but nooo, they have to be all mysterious and Chloe just can't help herself. So it's Clark's turn to get all huffy about his past being dug into (literally, in the next episode).
Body parts, dead cows, it's all more like an episode of the X Files than an overly elaborate revenge scheme (a two bit loser came up with this whole gaslighting thing?) but the best bit is we get to see Jonas shot and killed - heh, that wiped the smile off his face. Clark saves Lex, again and we get another lovely nightime scene with the boys together in the barn.
Obscura is up next and this is the second time in two days I've seen somebody on tv get psychic powers from being smacked on the head. I feel ripped off. I also didn't get any bedside visits from Clark. Doubly ripped. Lana tells Clark she's been dreaming about a bound and gagged Chloe. Clark is both alarmed and intrigued and no doubt demands a blow by blow description. This being the town of weird, Lana's visions are not automatically dismissed as delusions or sick fantasies and Clark frets and pouts over his missing Chloe before Lana helpfully provides the missing clues for Clark to rescue Chloe in the nick of time. Nicely desperate Clark here, as he yanks the steel coffin out of the ground one handed, and how very Profiler the whole kidnapping was. Chloe is suitably traumatised and acts so, which is more that can be said for Lana. Nothing can dent that blank expression of hers. One of these days we'll find out she's really a fembot or something.
Meanwhile Lex is digging up Clark's past, literally as I said, hunting for alien artefacts - you'd think he'd need to set up a blockade to keep all those other alien hunters off his patch - and JK gets all cranky and throws Lex's cheque for the dead cows back in his face, much to Clark's distress. Really, if the Kent's can't make a go of it on those fat, world crippling US subsidies they should just forget it, imho. But I digress. The Kent's try to accept Lex in their son's life, but they just can't do it. Lex just doesn't wear enough flannel for them to be comfortable with him.
Of course, Mr Would Be Serial Killer turns out to be the young cop, who was acting crazy in Act 1 Scene 1, so I'm sooo surprised, and it's freaky that said cop looks a decade younger than Whitney or Clark. Hello, casting. The climax ends in the old Vancouver fun park, which only the other day I was lamenting just doesn't show up enough on tv any more, however the climatic shoot out does not happen in the hall of mirrors, as is tradition, so I feel very cheated. And guys, the bullet time thing is really old now, 'kay?
Still, I like Clark being all concernced over Chloe. If I can't have him with Lex I want him with Chloe. Anyone but Lanabot. I'd even rather Whitney, though there wasn't much of that this episode. What can I say, I'm not devoutly OTP (One True Pairing) as far as Smallville goes, especially as my preferences are for anything but the Clark/Lana they keep pushing us. I'd like the show more if they'd just ease up on that, just for a couple of episodes, the way they used to rest the whole Max/Liz as soulmates thing on Roswell. And my, hello to the slash on Roswell on Monday. It was the Kyle and Max get drunk together episode. So sweet and so incredibly slashy inspite of the whole Max/Liz thang. I miss Roswell. In many ways I consider it superior to Smallville and I just don't see why one fails and the other, more hyped but lesser show gets renewed.
In fact, Roswell is better than Smallville. There, I've said it. I like Smallville, but I'm really loving my weekly double dose of Roswell lately, though it is a bit of a jump going from S1 to S3 and back again. It's more than just the hairstyles, these characters actually grew and changed and evolved - can you say that about Smallville? I think not. I care about the characters in Roswell in ways, bar Chloe, I just don't with Smallville. Oh well, to the victor go the bad bunny fics.
Apres Smallville it was over to one of my brand new movie channels for...Chain of Command. Oh dear. Still, MB was as sexy as ever and I watched/endured it right up until his character bought it, again. One of the worst films I've ever seen, but the man looks sharp in a suit. Oh, I know, pathetic, but there was bugger all else on and I might as well sit through MB in a really, really bad movie than sit there staring at the walls. Yeah, I could have read a book but I'm still a little too concussed for that, and I'm not sure I can read any POB right now without dreading the film in the pit of my stomach, though not as much as I dread the DD film. Howl! What have they done to my beloved Matty!