mockturtle (hellblazer06) wrote,

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self sacrificing spinster

Today is supposed to be my day off. Do you see me having a day off? No you do not. But I'm not bitter. I'm not bitter...the hell I'm not.

So there's just me here today, with many an urgent thang to do. Doesn't help that I'm fried - I had no sleep last night. Okay, so it's another little lesson in not leaving things until the last minute. You know, I usually don't, but I went to the seaside last weekend, and I'm paying for it now. I had one more day's worth of solid housework before the Foxtel man came, so I had to stay up all night to do it. Was still going this morning. Got in late and was snarked at. Bite me.

Wired on caffeine? Just a bit. Apparently Vincent van Gogh, according to the docco I stumbled across the other night, was on a jittery coffee bender when he cut his ear off, so plastic utensils today, I should think.

And after a 15 hour day, too. And more of the same. One can only hope that my state of extreme sleep deprivation sparks that one moment of divine inspiration that'll carry my limping fic over the finish line. One can but hope.

Meanwhile, it's an ill wind and all that. Pushing my bed back against the wall (it had almost made it to the door, this time, the poor thing) I found an old disk that turned out to be an archive of all my original, untouched scans (plus a few donated scans, and thankyou) for the Brit actors site, circa 1998 (I think I had it out to copy at one stage). Score! A selection of my first round of faves will be posted in this week's Brit News Weekly.

Also, found all my Xmas cards behind the tv in the lounge. No, not this year's. Last year's. You know, when I was away and I came home and there were no cards, not one, and I was very miffy about it all and I've been stalking past the racks of cards this year going "hmph!' and 'see if I care'. What I think what must have happened was while I was on The Trip From Hell, a person or persons unknown put my cards on top of the tv instead of, say, in my room, and then they were knocked or blown behind the tv. Bloody good thing I found them now and not, say, January. Because I'd resolved not to send any bloody cards this year, so help me, I had.

So I have bought cards. I actually found brown 70s style Xmas cards. Heh. If you want one, let me know and I shall race around and try and buy another pack (the usual suspects are already catered for).

Btw, nice work with the rain while I was walking back from the shops, then coming out all blue skies and sunshine once I'm safely back inside again. Et tu, sky?

And I wasn't all misery last night. I had a Skeet break and a Stargate break. We're onto Atlantis again and it's so long since I've seen these episodes (thankyou) that it's almost like watching them anew. Well, it would be if they weren't busy ripping off HAL, thus giving the episode a heavy air of de ja vu anyway.

I do love Rodney. I really love him. Old Stargate might fail to move me much these days (it's kind of turned into a campy parody ot itself), but the moment Rodney gets going, I'm entranced. He's got so many personality tics going he makes up for the rest of the (mostly) one note cast, and he just amuses me, even, or perhaps especially, when he grabbed his nuts protectively when they threatened to beam him up/out/over or whatever they were doing. Actually being stuck on a space station with Rodney would be a very unhappy experience (cf Trip From Hell), but watching from a safe distance - very amusing. Don't lose him, he's just about the only thing that lifts Atlantis out of the same old, same old.

Also, PH is a lovely man.

More coffee now, please. Must save the universe and vacuum. Miles to go before I sleep.
Rodney McKay
Vincent van Gogh
Thunderbirds sketch makes £6,000
TV's youth focus is growing old
Humans show big DNA differences
Ned, moviedom's first folk hero, finally tracked down
Uranium mine blamed for high Aboriginal cancer rate
Big fat lie: food labels hiding truth


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