It was raining buckets when I got in this morning, which was great, but as the back lane loves to turn into a proper creek in heavy rain and all the drains seemed to be blocked up there was nothing for it but to wade on through on my way to work (and my docs are usually pretty watertight but not when it's a good 20cm of water). Wellies? Bah! Never owned a pair in my life. I live in the most arid country on earth and it only rains like this once or twice a decade. It's a bit like good winter coats - never needed, never purchased.
Of course now it's sunny, so even if I did have wet weather gear I'd look, well, a right wellie. I shall just grimace at my late arriving, dry footed colleagues.
Oh well, at least I was bemused by the enormous bow wave the old bus was throwing up this morning, though sadly there were no joggers about to drown.
You know, they annoy me so much, these slim blonde creatures that inhabit the inner suburbs. Poor me, stuck out in the wastelands with no organic food, no green grocer or butcher but six cake shops (really, you can come round and count 'em if you like), nor do I get to sleep (which they say helps) or jog as I spend six hours every day on a bus. While they are up jogging by the golden water at dawn, I'm sitting on a bus. While they sleep, I'm sitting on a bus. While they lead their fabulous lives, I'm sitting on a bus. Sigh.
At least the rain today was heaps better than the British style mist that wafted about on Saturday, enough to put the kybosh on the washing (it's all nein tumbledry) but not enough to get me out of watering the garden. And we really are in a rain shadow as I could see rain all about when none fell where I was standing. Harumph.
At least I got to vote sans wet feet, then. I won't say much except in answer to all those 'how could it happen?' editorials, it's the morality, stupid. Dare I hope that nasty has had its day? Probably not, but at least I had the pleasure of personally not voting for the PM on my ballot sheet and being part of history (first PM to lose his seat since 1929). And I had to queue up for hours to vote, and I voted early, so I knew something was up.
I was up early, too, mainly because Himself keeps Amish hours, but as it was drizzly I stayed put and watched Robin Hood and the Kaisers at the proms. And thank so much for sending that because I knew about it but doubted I'd ever see it. It was fun. I do love the Kaisers so. They make me happy.
Also watched some Top Gear, but that was much later, in the evening, while I was puttering about. I loved the Botswana one. I knew Oliver would go okay because it reminded me of the old Datsun and that old Datsun had been over much, much rougher terrain than they lads were crossing (my street was rougher terrain, being a corrugated dirt road then). Though fie on them not checking the depth, though I suppose that's what you need kids for (and a friend who recently went all round Oz in a Oliver type car used her kid as a depth marker and gate opener, so the tradition stands).
I meant to update you on the RL Stevenson story I was reading, because, OMG it's so gay. And I quote: "...and sometimes drawing his hand over my clothes with an affectionate manner of caressing that never failed to cause in me an embaressment of which I was ashamed."
The prosecution rests, m'lud.
And it was totally RL Stevenson week as Maverick, which I'd IQ'd, decided to have a format breaking episode based on a RL Stevenson story, one they ackowledged openly as in Maverick in RL Stevenson's The Wrecker.
I love Maverick. It's fifty years old but it's such a modern show, it really is. I'm constantly amazed at how inventive and post-modern and ironic it can be. What happened between then and now tv wise I could not guess, but it has fast become one of my favourite shows. I even like the clever idea of expanding out the cast of Mavericks and I've gone from being disappointed everytime it's a Bart episode to quite adoring them. I dunno, there's something about Bart's smile, his cleverness and that streak of decency deep down that's very appealing. He's very much Sam Winchester to Bret's Dean, in my eyes at least, as Bret always seems slightier cheesier and cockier.
Actually, now that I think about it, there's a lot to compare and contrast. Okay, I now await the introduction of the English Winchester.
The only other thing I watched, and that's two hours of my life I'm not getting back, even if I was multitasking, was The Adventuer. I knew we were scraping the bottom of the ITC barrel but recent purchases have proven to be wonderful hidden treasures. Not this. This is a deservedly buried toxic dump. It's just awful, awful with the worst and most uncharimatic lead ever. Not even the usual treat of guests like Patrick Mower in funky threads could make it bearable. Avoid at all costs.
As an example of just how bad it is, every episode starts with a fake chase, then Our Alleged Hero gets his mission brief by an extrordinarily fey turn by Barry Morse (is tjhis really the man who relentlessly hunted the Fugitive?) and OAH will instead start going on about how he had plans for beaches and babes and the show is so unsubtle as to actually cut to beaches and babes and then we're back into the mission brief again and WTF? Imagine if they'd done this everytime Xander went off topic on Buffy? I shudder to think.
Oh well, unto every dvd collection a steaming turd must fall.
Sunday was Scottish day. I wasn't going to go, then I thought that Xmas without the Norfolk Punch, oat cakes and Taylor's tea was just a hardship too far, so in we went. Unfortunately the Xmas parade was on (the first since I was a wee babe, too) so it was quite a challenge, as in reality show challenge, to get to Hyde Park but we did and we saw the pipers and the imported laird (gawd, I'm getting old if some propped up aristo impresses, but I was curious to see who the rent-a-laird was this year, always hoping for an Archie MacDonald I suppose) but I saw no one I knew (or rather avoided running into anyone as I wanted to have fun, not talk about recent losses) and I could not find a tinned haggis for love or money, but it'll do for our monthly outing.
And finally, Jane Eyre screened. I'm glad I'd got my my mits on it ages ago because if I'd waited for it to come on telly so I could watch it with the auld witch I'd have been sorely disappointed. Toby Stephens is superb in this. Arrogant, snotty and crazy and most inconstant and mad, bad and dangerous to know and the rest of it and damn sexy because of it.
Yesterday was particularly rubbish, at work at 6am to load media releases (no cms and no thanks and no tea and morning paper) then someone tried to hack my pc while I was at a meeting and I got called a liar until IT had to come and unlock it. Just a horrid day all round, really. At least there was a chocolate biscuit and Winchesters at the end of it. Yes, I know, bickies = bad, but some days a girl needs a chocolate biscuit (or suffer the consequences).
Ah, Winchesters. I thought I read a recent piece in SFX about Mercedes McNabb never ever playing a vamp on tv again, and yet there she was. At least it was a change from demon of the week, but the whole Hunter as Vamp thing was kinda tired and I would have much rather have explored Dixon's story, the Heartbreak Vamp, much more, but what can you do, eh?
There was a lot of man tears going on (and what was up with Gordon and his fundie, er, friend?) and lots of Winchester angst (I like it, but it's kinda getting, I dunno, a bit tired). What I really liked was Dean at the end teaching Sam the basics of Impala maintenance. So imagine my disquiet when Ten decided to run the trailers for stoopid reality shows noisely over the top of it. Not happy. Even Peanut gallery agreed that it was a bit... instrusive.
Today is also proving to be rubbish and I've no capacity at all for dealing with bullies today (or yesterday) and it seems I'm to endure nothing but. I feel myself swinging between extremes of anger and upset, but I suppose both are unacceptable. I'm not sure the cork will hold much longer though, as already sharp shafts of steam have escaped. I'm just sick and tired and resentful of being bullied, whether it's being brow beaten, insulted, demeaned, excluded, intimidated and generally abused at work or being shoved out of the way in shops, footpaths or bus queues or vehicles driving far too dangerously close when I'm trying to cross the road (it's not my fault I limp now). I just can't take it. Not today. Not yesterday. Probably not tomorrow.
Okay, I'll try a cup of tea and some chocolate, but my rapidly re-expanding girth (and I was going to brag blithely about going down a cup size last week) tells me it's as much a part of the problem as anything. Oh yes, and trying to tell people, in a carefully measured tone, with carefully chosen words, to back off just gets me yelled at and insulted terribly even more, even threatened. What can I do? The burden of this year is finally starting to really crush me and I lack a Sam Gamgee to get me over the line. Alas, the folks I thought I could trust all turn as nasty as Gollum in a pinch.
Oh well. I'd say I'll go home and watch poor Much and see how the constantly abused really live, but I'm afraid it's another pointless twelve hour day followed by a three hour commute for me. Sigh.
Also, really upset over Verity Lambert. Especially as we were watching the Idiot's Lantern on Sunday.
Doctor Who's first producer dies
TV producer Verity Lambert dies
Verity Lambert, RIP
TV producer Verity Lambert dies
Pitt quits Hollywood remake of BBC drama
The Spam-ish inquisition
Heroes goes Slusho!
McKew claims PM's seat
The 5-minute Interview: Eric Roberts, Film and television actor
Row over 'tree man' virus samples
Australia: high art Down Under
Casey Affleck, the brother in arms
Ex-girlfriend is killed after 'no' to TV proposal
The man with the golden touch (Craig)
Bond gives MI6 recruitment headache
Piper in line for soft-porn award
Simon Schama: My secret recipe to bring the past to life
McGovern attacks US for 'imperialist' Emmy
Adrian Pasdar's split personality
Why, after 30 years of endless tantrums, I’ve had enough of Paul Weller’s ever changing moods, says a former close friend
Sympathy for the Devil: The Nice-Guy Serial Killer Next Door
Flirting with fame
DRAMA: ROBIN HOOD: 7.30PM, BBC1
12th British Academy Children's Awards 2007 - Press Room
Square Eyes 23-25 November
British Academy Children's Awards 2007
Stars Out For Kids' Baftas
12th British Academy Children's Awards 2007 - Arrivals
Variety Club Showbiz Awards