mockturtle (hellblazer06) wrote,

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fiddling while Rome burns

Pros of getting out of bed and going to work: hot water on tap (our kettle at home could be best described as taking a liesurely approach to the art of boiling water). Cons: actually having to work. Also, sitting upright and not throwing up on the carpet are proving a bit of a strain, but so far so good re the carpet. Wish I could say the same about my poor skirt.

Yep, going the full Exorist here today, covered head to toe in blood and vomit, third day running but first in at work. What jolly fun. At least I've not touched any (homemade) pizza in days. Nothing quite like the sight of glistening olives sliding slowly down the bathroom walls, eh? Wasn't my fault. I was toddling along in a bathroomly direction towards the end of Midsommer Murders as a precautionary measure as I felt a bit unwell, but then a bit unwell suddenly escalated and went over the top into OMG make it stop. Oh dear. Clean up in aisle four. Nothing more miserable than to have to be the one to hold back your own hair whilst thrashing about over the loo and having to mop up and sponge down in between excessive bouts. My life sucks.

In other words, it's not been a happy last few days and the bathroom resembles the set of a Peter Jackson film and I'm not talking Lord of The Rings.

What I'd really like to do is just curl up and sleep but it's all just too painful, miserable and stressy for that.

Didn't even watch much telly, though I did stick mostly to UKTV and working my way through a bit of the old 'watch later' backlog. Weirdly, when I'm home sick, I often to turn to stuff either grim and or northern - must have endured many an episode of Corrie on the couch as a snuffling nipper (I have vague memories of it running in the mornings when I was very, very young).

One of the things I caught up with was Losing Gemma which was dreadful. Jonas was cute, but it was just awful, though perhaps I cringed more than most, thinking wickedly (and unkindly) that the author and I had obviously shared a travel buddy or two in the form of psycho bitch from Hell Gemma (either that or they breed them in vats which is even more terrifying).

I think there was just a bit too much cringing de ja vu there for me to offer up any sensible opinion of the quite frankly lurid and ludicrous plot, because, well, as ridiculous and OTT as Gemma was, she was, most distressingly, not too many miles from folks it has cost be dear to have been formerly acquainted with. And she got Jonas in the end. The bitch, eh?

In a complete change of pace I caught a glimpse of Sam Troughton being a nasty upper class twat in Vera Drake, which also featured Liz White in a very brief but pivotal role, shall we say. Odd choice of film to watch, but it was on the pile.

Watched the same episode twice but in different series with both Bones and Silent Witness, having a series of murders executed that were the same but different, which turned out to be murders swapped in a chatroom (the old Strangers on a Train, updated, redux). Actually it was interesting to see the exact same plot play out in the American Bones and British Silent Witness - one could write an entire paper on the cultural differences, etc, but I've not the time. But it was very funny because I had no idea both episodes I picked to watch would be the exactly same.

Inspector Lynley went to Rome and seemed to take long and circuitous routes from point A to B, taking in just about all the sights. It was all very I Spy and somewhat amusing in a tacky 'we paid for the location we're gonna film the location' kinda way. Too bad I picked whodunnit with half the show still to go. A Touch of Frost featured Robert Glenister and then Sam's mum popped up on the doorstep claiming to be Frost's daughter, which boggles the mind. And did Gabriel from The Bill end up in the 1970s when he topped himself? And if he goes back to the late 70s and kills Tucker Jenkins does the universe explode in a time vortex thingy?

Doctor Who had the whole 42 thing going, which I actually enjoyed very much the second time around, but possibly because I was all just "David. Pretty." by that stage. It was certainly lit very nicely, which, when enjoyed on a nice big telly when feeling slightly woozy, is rather trippy.

Torchwood was supposed to be on last night, but I never found it. Sorry, Jack.

Oh yeah, one of the episodes of Bones I watched had Stephen Fry in it, which meant my anti-British actors hump lasted all of five minutes. There is no escape these days.

Meanwhile, have been delivered another lesson in just asking for it, but this time it was more of a friendly pinch on the arm than a king hit. First, I decided not to take my cane because I was resolved to not walk any further than the bus stop and back, and second that I wasn't going near any Italian food for a week after the pizza incident on Sunday night. So a friend rang me up and said lunch? Several blocks away? Italian? Of course I said yes, because I love the friend, and I had toast and pate and beer, which has so far settled okay, but still, what are the odds, eh, because that was entirely out of the blue.

Okay then, I wouldn't have Jonas Armstrong if he begged me.

[sound of crickets chirping]

Okay, just testing, and I suspect the universe knows when I'm being sincere or not.

Anyway, said friend wanted to tell me all about this trip to Italy she's planning. Italy, Italy, Italy, am I supposed to be getting some sort of clue here? Because if the fates want me to go to Italy, they're gonna have to stump up the airfare this time [turns out empty pockets and looks sad].

Oh yes, and speaking of Rome...,,2146526,00.html
Relics saved as fire rages through legendary studios,,2146133,00.html
Fire ravages Rome's Cinecitta film studio
Fire damages Italian film studios,,2001320029-2007370145,00.html
Who's fiddling as Rome burns
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Tags: doctor who, rome, sam troughton, stephen fry

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