Meanwhile, if telly has taught me anything over the last week, it's that it's heroic to sulk, pout, be mean to your so-called friends, worse to your lovers, throw tantrums, kill people and run away.
Okay then, at least we've got that sorted. And yes, I was watching the Buffy S2 finale last night. With the Sarah McLachlan. Can't forget the Sarah. Can't flounce off moodily and alone without the Sarah. No tv strop is worth its salt if there's no Sarah to back it up, imho.
Actually, I was miffed at missing half of it (and all of it yesterday) so I ended up watching an episode of Bones, so helpfully provided by a friend. The stories are still well, pedestrian at best (but at least it doesn't require ordered viewing), but my, hasn't David managed to return himself to near S2 Buffy hunkiness and wasn't he just showing it off. Entirely gratuitous but I wasn't complaining, since that's the only reason I'd put it on.
But yeah, amused to see the Buffy template (desert friends, estrange lovers, much with the sulking and 'you don't understands') has been pretty much flogged to death on tv of late. But, and here's the thing, I'll allow it for Buffy in S2 because she's still a kid. When she pulls the same thing years later, it looks extraordinarily childish and self indulgent. Ditto any other tv character who tries it on and doesn't have the excuse of adolescence to fall back on.
Or perhaps it just seems lame because I've seen it all before, where as the first time Buffy sent her beloved Angel to Hell and then ran away, heartbroken, I nearly died, so closely had I become involved in the characters' journey. A not happy ending, especially for a US teen soap, and, well, that's brave writing. Would that others were so brave these days, though S2 Doctor Who nearly got there (much with the weeping but no actual character snuff, and thinking upon it, I shoulda known, did know, Angel wasn't gone for good because he never got a death montage. You're only really dead if you get a death montage. So that means Winchester Snr is coming back, probably, committments pending).
But enough of that. I was looking forward to the last episode of State of Play but was annoyed that by the time I'd done all that needed to be done (I did ask for help but I might have got more of a reponse from my fibreglass gargoyle) I was all cross and headachey. So I popped a pill. Big mistake. There I was, fading in and out of John's histrionics, and I'd been especially looking forward to watching him because John in angst mode is a joy to behold and I needed to double check the mannerisms to help with the Sam writing. But no, it was a constant struggle for consciousness. Bugger. And tonight it's supposed to be way too hot for dvds, so no double dipping.
At least I stayed awake for most of the Phil bits. But it was John I most wanted to see. Oh well, I did see the most important bits, the realisation, the confrontation, the distress and his resolve face ("You've seen it before, you know what it means.")
Then I fell asleep for Teachers but was rudely re-awakened by my old folders of Robin notes and my workbooks tumbling onto the bed from on high (hence the bruising). What, Robin notes, workbooks and Jonas on the telly? Is there some message I'm supposed to be getting? What's that, Skip? I should be writing bad Robin fic? Not on your nelly, though I am up to part two in my head - heh.
But I am trying to finish this LOM fic, and I was doing real well until I hit the double whammy of discovering a [MISSING SCENE] which I swear I'd written but couldn't find anywhere (those darn Hungarian bandits again) and just as I'd sighed and committed myself to trying to recreate said missing scene the work merde just up and slapped me around.
On top of that I've had no tea last night (nobody did the shopping, nor did they tell me), no breakfast, no lunch and tea is going to have to be a packet of chips from the snack machine in the lobby, on account of being chained to my desk. I'm half inclined to order out for a pizza but my cronies fear it'll not pass through the castle gates. Oh yeah, and the server went down.
Now I know why Sir Guy scowls so much. On top of everything else the server's down and he's not had any dinner.
Oh, I just downloaded my first ever ringtone. Blue Monday, predictably enough. Dorkness.
Okay, come one, miss scene, she says, demanding it come to me from the ether the way Sam tries to wake up, with much angsting and arm waving. Nope. Nothing. Must be the whole fainting away on account of being chained up in the dungeon sans rations that's switched my brain offline. Seriously offline, I lost my cup for a bit before finding again.
Sigh. One scene to go and the fic is done. How very frustrating.
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