It's all grey but no rain as yet and the server has fallen over again at work and now I've got to go under the hood. Wish me luck, because I'm completely clueless. Dammit, Jim, I'm a librarian not a sys admin!
Last night: As remarked in my LJ, last night's bus trip featured a gang of loud mouthed defiantly ethnic louts, the sort who usually get 50 year sentences for gang rape. So they're bad mouthing every woman on board then start pounding on the windows like a pack of wild monkeys when the bus actually stops to pick up a gaggle of wilted and weary school girls who'd been waiting for a school bus that will never come, as I know only too well. Feeling a startling surge of sisterhood to my old school - fashion marches on but that old uniform is still as butt ugly as ever - I parked myself between the nervous girlies and the louts while on the bus (I'm very intimidating when I need to be) and shepherded them all off the bus at our stop just to be sure we weren't followed, because the gang were yelling out threats of rape, as hopefully empty as they were. Me as mother goose? Too freaking weird. This is very unlike me. Ended up in the newsagents with a few and showed them where to find the best Orlando pics. Ah, young minds, so easy to mould.
The whole thing reminded me so much of the past, it was like living an echo, weird. I'd rather not relive my school days, thanks. Had it not been for the terrified girls I should have gotten off the bus myself and walked all the way home. I sadly recall the days, not so long ago, when I used to spend my commute just quietly reading on the train. Sigh. I actually miss that. I dislike this zoo of a bus I'm supposed to catch. The worst in the world, so far as I've experienced it. I miss reading and thinking up stories and watching the scenery, or what passed for scenery, glide by.
Crawled home straight onto the couch when I got home (still grumpy and crampy). Watched the end of Buffy, the Riley and Buffy bonk for an hour episode only it's much better than it sounds because it means we're mostly sans Buffy and Riley for the entire episode. Yay. I remark that the happy smiley faces they're making aren't as convincing as the happy faces on last night's QAF. Bro points out the difference between cable happy faces and free-to-air happy faces and he probably has a point.
Crawled to room and decided to watch a mystery tape and it turned out to be an old tape circa early '98 of stuff I must have taped when I'd gone out, to watch later. Much, much later as it happens. First up was Rawhide, suitably gothic and gasslighty. It reminds me that I'm perfectly allowed to write gothic M7 if I so choose, so that was worthwhile, though I read the paper during most of it, it sadly being a Clint free zone (boo, hiss).
Next up was Captain Scarlet! Joy! Expo 2068, if you require the episode title. Those naughty Mysterons, still bitter over Spectrum's pre-emptive strike policy, have decided this week's act of revenge terrorism is going to involve the nabbing of a big valvey nuclear reactor via Elvis (big orange crane helicopter, much beloved by Sydneysiders) and only Captain Scarlet can stop it, only the poor guy gets squished by the reactor then blowed up and is deader than dead by the end of the episode, much to his buddy's distress, but we know he'll return to get shot, stabbed or blown up again next week. I lost count of the body count but we're talking close to double figures here. Ah, 60s kiddie shows, bless 'em. I used to love this show when I was a littlelie. Mmmm, ultraviolence.
Next up was Joe90 and I think the opening credits just say all you need to say about 1968. Joe90 is always a bit disturbing when viewed these days, and I often think of the Pretender as Joe90 all growed up, cause that's pretty much the scenario here (the time frame even fits). This time three rockets have blown up so they're fresh out of astronauts so they're sending Joe up. I know as a kid it was pretty exciting to think about going into space but as an adult I find the casual disregard of young Joe's safety rather uncomfortable, especially as we've just watched a couple of astronauts blow up rather graphically for puppets. Still, Joe's all excited so we'll take it as read that he's consented and let the adventure roll on, revelling in all the minature 60s architecture as I do.
After that it was back to cable to watch Farscape: Out of Their Minds. The ol body swap episode, but done Farscape style so it's completely brilliant, silly, rude, crude and I love it to death. Highlights include Rygle as JC taking a leak and catching the equipment in the ziiper, Rygel as JC using the phrase "rack off" on television that will be seen overseas, the sentinemt vomit, JC as Aeryn checking out the merchandise and the two kids mucking about at the end, Chianna as D'Argo feeling up Rygel as John - more happy smiley face making, and Chianna and D'Argo making goo goo eyes at each other at the end of the episode. Sex, bodily functions, swearing - can this be a sci fi show? Stargate and Trek are so sexless and antiseptic, and Farscape is so raw and full bodied and most definitely Oz. I'm going to miss it lots.
Xmas: I tried to get myself organised in November, really I did, but here it is, this close to Xmas and I'm still in a muddle. Sigh.
In case you think I'm just moaning about 10 hour days and how anti-xmas browsing they are, let me tell you just how salty my life gets. I asked for a day off tomorrow, and they grudgingly said I could leave a few hours early - just in time for the shopping centre to be shut down as they rehearse terrorist emergencies. My life, everyone. Sigh.
Think of me trying to do the last of my Xmas shopping admist SAS troops and smoke bombs in their excercise tomorrow. What joy. I was caught in the big one before the Games, too [rolls eyes to heaven]. This is karma, right, for being a smartarse?
I also had tp present papers before I was able to post off all my parcels, though they're going to be orthodox pressies this year due to my muddlement. I suspect the extra rubber glove treament is due to either the fact that the local terrorist cell is on my bus route or the fact that I rather hilariously signed up for courses on Islamic culture, always curious about other peoples, at the local mosque's open day on, whoops, 9/9/01. Hilarious. I'm still on the mailing list and I don't care. Subversive is in the genes (qv my mutinous, rabble rousing and even revolutionary heritage).
Gotta go. Lots to do and only me to do it (think of me working like a frantic six armed god) and it looks like I won't be getting that time off anyway as I've just been told I have to stay back and now do 14 hour days to get everything done. I hate my life. So much for my Xmas. Scrooges all.
I should like to thank my friends who provided most of the links today: