: James Cameron presents cute guys on ice. Well, okay, I lied about the ice part, but not about the cute guys.
Got home late, found mother unwell so that was me up for everything, only nobody was interested so I took friend's book and sat out on the veranda and delighted in the first 40 pages or so (funny story about the book: I found a jumbled pile of books on table for sale and I plunged my hand in, vowing whatever book I pulled out would be given to my dear friend, no matter how strange, and I pulled out Master and Commander, for all love. I couldn't believe it but it just felt incredibly right in my hands. In fact, I can't put it down and I carry it around like a comfort blanket, so it will look properly and authentically second hand by the time she gets it. Perhaps I'm meant to read it first. Whatever the reason, it was meant to be). Realised later I was supposed to be working on my pages but at that moment I wanted nothing more than the company of Jack and Stephen and they never fail to utterly delight me. Sheesh, this poor book is really going to look second hand by the time it gets there, especially with the turkey grease stains.
You see I was sitting on the plastic chair on the new veranda/sun deck because the mosquitos are back to their pre-games population and viciousness, making reading under the trees a no go zone once again alas (I actually brought some into work with me today in a cloud ala Pigpen, only with mozzies). However my exalted position caused my birdies to mount the stairs like penitents, begging for more table scraps and I told the first it couldn't be hungry cause it still had food stuck in its beak so the next one wiped its beak most fastidiously before approaching. Oh dear. This was making me feel uncomfortablely caesar like so I went ahead and tossed them some more turkey bits.
Then I tossed the family some turkey bits which we munched on while watching last night's Farscape: Different Destinations. This was utterly brilliant and fantastic and SF tv for grownups. Now we're talking. No cringeworthy tv here. I could prodly show this to anyone as a fine example of the genre. What we have here is basically the Magnificent Seven meets City on the Edge of Forever, only with more humour and pathos. Our heroes squabble, fuck up really, really badly and there isn't a happy ending and all the wrong people die for the right reasons. No neat tied up in a bow Trek or Stargate ending this, and I loved it. This is the sort of dark fable I aspire too. It was funny too, admist the tragedy, with the guys all at each other's throats and every thing Crichton tries to fix the problem just making it worse and worse until the entire planet vanishes in a puff of dust. I could totally sympathise, as I've had days that felt like that. The road to hell blah blah blah.
I appreciated the continuing and gut wrenching mourning of Zhaan, no 'Zhaan who?' for these guys, and I loved all the nods and winks to the audience, especially Aeryn and D'Argo feeling left out because they didn't have voices in their head too, just had me in giggles. Jools though needs to be shoved out of an airlock, stat. What a princess. Reminds me of a few people I've known, squared, combined with the distilled essence of every annoying Dr Who campanion, ever. Yikes. It's so satisfying when they smack her one. I also loved the Oz as accents on some of the players this week. Keep it up. J
After that I raced upstairs in time to catch young Michael nekkid in Terminator, and gosh but that scene just reminds me so much of Angel's return in Faith, Hope and Trick. Funny that. The scene where the Terminator batters down the door to get at our heroes also really brings to mind a surprisingly similiar scene when the vampires come after Buffy and Xander in the pilot, which Fox8 played only the other day so it was fresh in my mind. Whedon fans may scoff at the Cameron, but you'd be surprised how many scenes in early Buffy seem as though they're lifted straight out of Terminator and Aliens. Funny, that.
So, anyway, the Michael. Mmmm, yum, and so young. It's hard to recognise this boy as the man I was watching yesterday, until he gotes all pissy, and there he is, there's my Chris. As a friend said, this is what Chris must have looked like when he first hooked up with Buck. No wonder Buck was smitten. Michael was so very pretty back then. Long, lean and with all those rattlers in that pretty head, ah, just the way I like 'em. Yup, pushing all my bad boy buttons here, the way Spike does now.
I started out as upset when watching this, but the Michael magic starts to work it's magic, like chocolate or wine, and I start to feel alright. He's not the prettiest actor in the world, or indeed the most talented. Fairly average, actually, but he works for me and that's enough. So I'm watching him, in a movie I actually like fer once, and I'm happy again.
Do I need to explain the plot? You must all know it by now. Chick flick in disguise, for it's a romance inspite of the heavy artillery. Boy from future dreams of girl, meets girl, saves girl, shags girl, dies heroically in pointless death. Mind you, shouldn't Sarah have been fried when the terminator got squished? Just wonderin'. Oh, my other favourite scene, aside from any that feature Michael, because he's just so damn fucking gorgeous, are the comedy slash buddy cops, slash buddies to the end. Hey, if Lennie and Carl are canonically a couple on the Simpsons, then these two certainly are. Sniff, so sad. And once again my baby doesn't make it to the end credits. I think the list came up with over twenty ways our boy has been despatched on film, all of them unpleasant. Oh well, he was prettying up the screen for most of it.
Turning over to EC7 it's more James Cameron in the form of the last ever episode of Dark Angel (Freak Nation): sob, wail, gnash, lament. Why, Fox, why - especially when Firefly is supposed to be a pile of possum poo, and only garnering half the ratings at that. Boo, hiss. So it's farewell to my lovelies, to you my Angel babies. No more Logan. No more Cindy. No more Normal. No more Max, and, god help me, no more Alec. Whimper. Pout. At least some of the plot lines are drawn together, if not tied off in a neat little bundle, and all the main characters are standing proud and together at the end, which is so necessary for fan fic and that all important fifteen year later reunion tv movie. I was worried as I'd carefully and sucessfully (yay me) avoided all spoilers on the matter so there was some suspense as to whether all my Timmys would be getting out of the well. Not quite out of the well but at least they were all present and correct as the end credits rolled.
Basically the former Manticore denizens are being hounded as though there were African Americans or Pakistanis, with cross burnings, lynchings and the like. Our heroes are trapped on the streets and take refuge in Jam Pony, which has become part of the mutant underground much to Normal's initial horror. Big stand off with the police, played by my second member of the Seven tonight, Rick Worthy aka Nathan. I've never actually seen Rick play a role that hasn't turned exclusively on his ethnicity, but he does a fine job here and who else could they send to talk to persecuted members of society other than a proud African American, just to drive home The Message, in case you'd missed it thus far. Evil supervillain White (ahem) sends in his goons, and as I've missed a couple of big episodes because of EC7 was playing hide and seek with DA in the scheduling I've no real idea of his agenda but safe to say he's evil, he's stands against everything Max stands for and there are strong heavy hints that some genocide is in the offing. How topical. In fact the whole damn show started out as pure SF but is so bloody topical now I just can't believe they canned it. Cloning, GM, terrorism, poverty, racism, genocide - take your pick. Damn, this show had at least another two good years left in it. Such a waste. Oh, I also liked the use of Minoan culture n' stuff. Cool. We don't get that sort of stuff in Stargate any more.
So our heroes fight the bad guys, escape with a clever ruse (how very Sharpe of them) and a little help from their friends, and make a brave stand ala Tiananmen Square, the Alamo, Helms Deep, Sharpe's Seige, Bloody Sunday, The Berlin Wall, etc, complete with Guadal canal flag raising (btw, Australians fought there too).
Well, at least it ended well. They should be proud. Nice job, folks. Much applause.
After that it was the episode of Buffy where she outs Angel as a vampire. Well, duh. I can't believe that was meant to be a shock to people. It was sooo obvious, but I digress. Obviously Buffy has the same weakness for bad boys that I do, only she acts on hers, and hey, Angel was tall, thin, dark and brooding back then. Angel with cheekbones, ah, those were the days - snerk. Much enjoyment and drooling over Angel to be had (he just ain't drool worthy these days but at least we have the archives). It's nice to see, much like the first Amanda episode of Highlander, that most of the back story was fleshed out and kept reasonably true to what's going on here. Alas, you can't keep a bad vampire bitch down, because as we learn later to our peril, this ain't the last we've seen of Darla.
I like the way Buffy (and co) accept Angel's vampireness so easily. How very open and inclusive of them. How very mid 90s of them. And how on earth does Mrs Summers not hear two sets of feet creaking up the stairs to her daughter's bedroom?
After that I conked out so fast I couldn't even tell you what was on the X Files afterwards. I think I was out before the grrr arrrgh, even. Woke up and was about to switch mt tv off when the alarm sprang rudely to life. Watched a bit of MASH first before staggering into the shower.
Was feeling really rotten about my inability to stick to my vows for even one day, though most of my sins were committed the day before. The Salvation Army guy says I'm only human, I try, I basically have a good heart, but maybe he's just saying that for the money. Don't know why I'm such an out and out bitch these days. I used to take it, turn around and take it some more. I think working out here has brought more baggage than I can cope with, plus I actually have to interact with the family. Before I just rented a room, leaving before they woke, returning when they slept and being out all weekend.
Now I'm trapped at home, listening to my mother whisper in my ear like Grima Wormtongue. Cause I'm thinking it wasn't the prawns at all, because I'm sick as a dog now, too, and I never touched 'em. I'm thinking I made false accusations and I'm heartily sorry.
I'm also thinking I should become a buddhist because I'm far too hung up on the material, though in my world, lacking the validation and approval I so desperately crave but will never get, mainly because I'm such an undeserving bitch, I can only measure my net worth by that time honoured method: booty.
Over thirty xmas cards posted, only 4 received. Yup, it's official, the results are in: I suck as a person. No need to recycle my cards as toilet paper - I think folks out there are wiping their arses on them directly. Okay, it's probably a time/money thing but you can see how a girl can get hurt by reading the situation wrong, the way people read this wrong and miss things that are meant to be mocked or tweaked in humour, with a twinkle in the eye, the way I get told I'm rubbish all the time to my face but there's just enough humour to let the slight slide. Not so in the typed word, alas. I need to be a better writer to communicate when I'm having a lend. I need to be a better person. I need not to discuss my life online, but it's hard, because I'm living it and I just wanted to explain why I didn't finish my WIP on my two days off.
Like the other day I said slow down or I'll throw up in the car and I was told not to be nasty, whereas I had thought I was making an entreaty, a plea, a simple statement of cause and effect. I wasn't being nasty, cheeky, rude, mean or threatening. I was just trying to make my point. Sigh. Those assertion courses have caused my life more harm than good. It was much better when I just sat there and didn't grumble.
So I'm sorry, okay? I totally suck and I'm mean and cold and grasping, okay? I'm turning into my mother and if that ain't enough reason to leap out the window I don't know what is.
I did have some joy over Xmas though. Best Friend bought me not one but two spanish lavenders, and we all know how much I was pining for one of those. Retail price: $16.00. Actual value: priceless.
The other thing I'm supposed to apologise for is calling Americans dunces when it comes to geography on my list the other day. Okay, this is something I am not wholly wrong about, for a change, and I just can't bring myself to aquiesce. According to the National Geographic survey, Americans are indeed pretty clueless when it comes to finding countries they're about to invade on the map, and as to my slight implication that Americans in general were boorish and insensitive to non-American sensibilities, well, look no further than the aggressive foreign policy of their government, as supported by 70% of Americans. QED. Nope, I might be a soul sucking bitch but I can't take a dive for this one. I maintain my position.
It all started when some idiot teeny bopper referred to Ireland as being part of England, again. I'm sure the Irish don't find that funny, and neither do I, having been touched by the troubles myself via friends and their friends and family, on all sides of the conflict, including a friend at work whose soldier husband was killed, and my penfriend in what was then Londonderry, during the worst of it, when we were just children. I saw it through her eyes and I will not have some crass girls on my list shrug it off as 'whatever'. No.
I won't take sides but I think they should respect the strong feelings that exist on the matter.
That's all I want, respect. I suppose I'm really in trouble because I fail to respect those around me, their own feelings and reasons for doing things, reasons I'm usually not privy to, and therefore have no understanding of The Way Things Are. But you know, sometimes you've got to give a little to get a little, it cuts both ways. I'm trying to be a better person. Obviously I'm not suceeding, so full of bile and venom as I am. It's been very,very hard since Dad died, with too many sacrifices, and I've lost just about all my friends now and the harder I try the worse it gets. I don't know, I just wish there was some way I could suck the poison out and be me again. I think I need a holiday. A real one. Away from here. With old crumbly buildings and thousands of years of history and scenery worth painting and composing odes to.
Until then I'll stick with the Biehn. In my sad, bitter, lonely little world he doesn't talk back, he doesn't get annoyed if I ignore him for days on end and he's always there when I switch on the dvd, ready to cheer me up. As the book my friend knowingly gave me says, I much prefer imaginary men (and friends too, I guess).
Big wave to my ex-school chum down Mexico way J. Distance makes the heart grow fonder JJ
I might not have the entire floor to myself but currently I have more than half of it, but alas, no jumping around to The Clash on the radio as is tradition. I'm still so distressed by it all. The Clash formed a significant part of the soundtrack to the most formative years of my life. The Clash, The Jam, Billy Bragg... well, it explains a lot, dunnit. The Clash evoke a time and place that exist only in memory now, and it's sad. It's very sad. I guess that's why I was playing the regretfully right wing Professionals the other day. At least it was of the same time and place. London Calling...
Whose a happy little dumpling now. There I was, wondering who on earth was going to have yum cha with me now when one of the few people in at work today rings up and asks me if I would possibly like to do yum cha? Does a fish swim? Bloody oath, yes! And it was brilliant and they brought around the mango sago thing I love so much but rarely see at yum cha. Oooh, happy me, I've had my treat. But so full now. Groan. Gurgle. Burp. It was so good, and I've missed it.