mockturtle (hellblazer06) wrote,

  • Mood:

moisterise me!

Well, I managed a few impossible things on the weekend. One was impressing a yum cha trolly dolly. Sadly, not with my ability to order things by their correct name in flawless Cantonese. No, we're still pointing to the 'round ones', alas (I did try to learn at one stage, then got rotated away from yum cha land and all my words left me).

No, my feat was having them all come over and laugh and point and tell me I was amazing. You see, I'm so badly sunburnt that people do have to stop and stare, and these Chinese ladies, fresh off the boat, had never seen anyone the colour of a cooked king prawn before. I was the free freakshow, though they were very nice and complimented my on my crimson hues.

Mind you, as much as it was my fault for forgetting my hat (they're all packed away right now), I'm dirty on my companions for not telling me I was turning magenta.

Now I have to keep spritzing myself with the aloe vera mist that doesn't seem to be doing a damn thing for the burns. Moisterise me! Moisterise me!

Tis a pity, because Saturday was amazing. The highlight: listening to Richard Tognetti & two tuxed companions playing the most beautiful music I've ever heard in my life in the botanical gardens as boats sailed past. No, the real highlight was watching the drunken Brit on the party boat going past moon us to Mr Tognetti playing Vivaldi. If I ever have moments flash before my eyes, that had better be one of them. And no, I don't know why RT was playing in the park, he just was. It were grand.

Very Jack Aubrey day actually, as it started with a journey down the river...

Caught the ferry down, and it was quite crowded too, to better view the jacarandas. Ended up with crab claws and the chip shop and green tea icecream from the B&R stall that has opened up at the Quay (my first B&R cone since 1989 so no wagging fingers, that's what I call a rare treat).

But stumbling across the string trio was by far the most magic moment ever. Right up there with seeing David. I just had to stop, they were so good, and I was bemused to discover why the piece I recognised from Master and Commander sounded exactly as it was played in the film. The very same hand on the strings, my dears.

Actually, I was bemused that such an urchin as I, who had no music at school, recognised all but one of the pieces. Never by name, to be sure, except from a couple I knew from tv ads, but the others I knew to hear them, and I suspect the bulk of the pieces I knew from my vast dvd collection, including mostly, but not exclusively, all my bonnet dramas.

Heh, music licensing laws have a lot to answer for - they've inadvertantly increased my classical appreciation a hundredfold, just because it's all public domain. Cheap bastards. Mind you, what I heard that afternoon was infinitely better than anything I'd ever heard on a soundtrack before. Something about hearing truly great musicians playing great pieces exquisitely. I'd never experienced that before in my life. It was like seeing my first truly great painting (when I was thirty) or my first proper play (last year). So that's art, then? I think I might like it.

Lucky me. A magnificent concert, for free. I don't know why, reherasal or some gimmick for the plebs. Either way, more please. I had no idea musc could sound like that. I dare say I'm smitten.

Sunday was pretty good, aside from the casualty worthy sunburn/sunstroke (that'll learn me to loll on the grass listening to classical tunes). Friends tooked me off to yum cha, and while at the mall (the yum cha barn occupied the top floor) I picked up a new frangipani patterned quilt cover, some more storage boxes and a Chinese porcelain figure I fell for.

Weirdly, I'd only decided I wanted a figurine last Wednesday, and now I have one. Such things never happen in my life. I saw this painting in the gallery of two 19thC women reading a letter together. They looked like frumpy fans arguing over the latest zine, which bemused me. Further to the whole two fat fans thing was the bookcase behind them, jam packed with books shoved in wherever they could fit. Aha, my bookshelves, I realised. Atop the bookcase was a porcelain Chinese figure and I decided I wanted one for my bookcase, to make it look a bit classy and Victorian. And now I have one. Made in the same Chinese factory, too, so it's only a semi fake.

Sadly, it's not at all like C's magnificent piece of porcelain that is a lovely figurine and, to my eternal delight, when you turn it upside down, it's ceramic porn in all its gynacalogical detail. I remain so very impressed by that piece. Indeed, I rate it more highly that most of the museum treasures I have seen. Genius.

But no, my Chinese lassie is demure and reveals nothing but her price sticker when reveresed. Can't have everything, sigh.

And yes, you may note that there was no housework undertaken. My bad. I meant to just wag Saturday, but I was so not happy on Sunday with the whole skin on fire thang that I was quite relieved to spend the day gorging on dumplings with friends rather than working. Next weekend: no excuses.

TV: Dennis, Dennis and more Dennis. The Professionals offered up a tale condoning rendition, featuring the most unconvincing terrorist of middle eastern appearance ever. Never mind, Bodie was cute, Ed Bishop popped up as a guest Yank, Cowley proved again he was the hardest man there and I was bemused by a minor cameo by George Mallaby (a local tv legend).

The Sweeney seemed to be more of a pilot for the adventures of a hard hitting Scotman, played by my beloved James Cosmo. James was playing a cop called Davy Freeth, who was pretty much Gene with a brogue, to be honest. In fact, there were a couple of scenes that were very, very Life on Mars, especially the bit where they're all checking their guns in the lift. LOM as.

There were only two problems with the episode. Actually, three. The plot made little sense, even on a second viewing. Thaw and Waterman seemed to be in a different show, no longer caring, while poor James was giving it all he had, and if they carried on with all those ethnic slurs these days they'd be up for racial vilification.

Ah, well. It had its moments, to be sure, but like later Buffy, the moments of brilliance are few and far between. The shark has been jumped, battered and served with chips.

Watched Spooks and Doctor Who on Sunday. Most enjoyable, even as repeats. Spooks was about stealing money back from the Russian mafia, and DW was the one with the suicidal Dalek. An interesting idea for a role reversal, with the Dalek showing, at odd moments, more 'humanity' than the Doctor, but somewhat lacking in subtlety. Sometimes I think RTD is too in thrall with US telly and too used to writing children's TV. Here comes the Point Of The Episode, children, sit up straight now and pay attention.

I'm spoilt by Kudos shows. Not that they can't be crass, but they have layers and subtleties and meanings so soft and obscured they're open to constant debate and rethinking. I kind of like that. Doctor Who is big dumb fun, but, honestly, the meatiest show of the weekend was the Professionals. I could bang on to boredom about the whole rendition plot, the sexism subplot, the obvious lack of occupational health and safety at the building site, the politics of the time or just how cute a smug Bodie can be.

Oh, New Tricks was a bit heavy handed and obvious this week, but never mind.

Meanwhile, I'm bemused that a lot, and I mean a lot, of British shows who did the old bow out before we get stale gambit are all back for specials: Sharpe, Cracker, This Life and The Royle Family to name a few.

So, the ten year reunion Life on Mars special?

Gah! There I was, innocently looking for a recipe for Grandma's Hotpot (Ma po dofu), and Google gives me hot grandmas. Wail. I was looking for my fave recipe, not to be emotionally scarred.

Btw, all the yum cha ldies were feeding me bean curd, because it was "good for skin". How bad am I, that I extract maternal instincts from women legendary for their shrill attitude? With a face like pork crackling, that's how. Ow. I knew it'd be a bad year what with the Ozone Hole n all, but I didn't realise it'd be this bad.
My week: Paul Abbott, writer
Comedy: A Royle tribute
Don’t Touch That Dial
This Life: Life goes on
Aliens versus yoof,,22877-2407543.html
Gripping yarns
The science of fiction,,1934188,00.html
Why I love David Bowie's acting;jsessionid=GNGI4RTQG3ZRTQFIQMGCFFOAVCBQUIV0?xml=/arts/2006/10/14/bfsuper814.xml&menuId=564&sSheet=/arts/2006/10/14/ixfilmmain.html
Police investigation
Paul Weller - Electric Proms
Chris Isaak Performs on Sunrise - October 27, 2006
Chris Noth Sighting at Big Pink on South Beach - 26 October, 2006
Stranger than fiction: the heath that inspired a film about sexual confessions
Yum Cha
Mapo doufu
Quick and Easy Mapo Dofu
Tippoo's Tiger
Richard Sharpe (fictional character
Let's put the future behind us
Starship Stormtroopers
Cheap Truth 'Zine
Technocratic movement
Ask a Ninja

Tags: doctor who, life on mars, spooks, the professionals, the sweeney

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