Meanwhile, it's been another week. To quote Blackadder: "The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the devil's own satanic herd."
Basically, just muggins here running around trying to do the best I can for everybody and being absolutely screamed at for my efforts.
Was all weepy and 'why does everybody hate me' yesterday. Which is a fair question, as I have my faults but I don't go around nailing puppies to doors and the grief I got yesterday was unfaiir and not equivalent to any grievance I might have caused. Certainly I did nothing out of malice, though I was actually accused of same this morning (the simple fact of the matter is the two networks/systems are incompatible and screaming at me won't ever make then any less so).
I hate Xmas, I really do. I run about trying to please people, actively trying to headoff or forestall any difficulties and they just charge ahead and scream at me when it all goes wrong, as it always does. Sigh.
And here I was feeling like one of those ants always luggging around loads while others waft through life like a feather, but I didn't know when I had it good. Consider me well and truly stomped on. Careerwise, certainly.
To top off my foul day, which reduced me to tears and capped off with a formal written reprimand from on high (and I did nothing wrong - the systems are incompatible!), I was running late, there were no buses (they're all off the road due a mechanical fault) and when one finally showed up I was stuck behind not one but two traffic accidents.
So instead of sitting down in front of Richard Armitage on the telly, I was stuck on a bus. At least I'd set the recorder. Nope. A minor blackout must have wiped it's programme because it was all offline when I got home (so to the friend I promised a copy too, whoops, sorry, feel free to scream at me, queue forms to the left, please take a number and wait).
So, my career in this new Dept is over, everyone hates me and I have no Richard Armitage. Oh yeah, everything is just peachy.
I did however get to see Moonlight. Some folks on the ol' flist had gone dippy over this so I was curious, and I'm obviously no stranger to the vampire cop/private dick genre so why not, eh? How bad could it be?
Actually, it wasn't bad at all. It wasn't people will still be talking about this in forty years brilliant, but it was a serviceable little show and I liked all the leads and I enjoyed it despite the DAY FROM HELL so that's something. Actually, I was thrilled to discover Jason Dohring was in it as a vampire. Squee! That wins my vote right there, as he was one of the things I loved most about Veronica Mars (the way he managed to be nasty and vulnerable at the same time). I also like Ms Myles quite a bit, and she's a suitably feisty and blonde reporter (in fact she's so much the fiesty blonde reporter I once wrote about in misguided juvenille OC experimentation that I just want to adopt her, it's like seeing my character on screen, so it was).
Mr Lead Vampire, not quite sold on him, alas. Maybe it was the cultural baggage dragging him behind him like Morley's chains (though to be honest, I'd not seen his local stuff, or hardly any) but mainly I think it was just the jiggling manboobs in that tight top (so not a good look) and possibly an unconscious prejudice against local boys even when they're pretending to be dang furners (a prejudice not without cause, I might add), but he lacked a certain something, though the spoilerific trailer they showed at the end where they do the whole vampire = junkie thing looks promising angst-wise, despite being so much a cliche I could barely contain myself.
Btw, the hastily smooshed baddie of the piece? Not even trying to cover up the Oz accent. Oh, there'll be a lot of that, I expect (once you get one Aussie on a show, all their mates show up, always). The professor was cringinworthy awful but I think I'd seen him before in Angel and not been impressed.
Oh yeah, let's get to Angel. This is so like Angel: the reboot. I mean, okay, black clad vampire PI, there are obvious comparisons to be made and that's too easy, but the shots of the city, it's just so stylistically Angel I had to wonder if they'd just not cut and pasted it in. And the brooding atop the building? Had I not seen Angel brood atop that very same building? What would happen if they bumped into each other? Is there a dark clad figure brooding in a hero pose on every corner? Is there a queue of dark clad brooders waiting to go up, turnstiles and tickets and everything, like the Empire State Building? Enquiring minds need to know.
Anyway, aside from that, and the Warner Bros wants you to buy this song moment that took me back to the grand old days of the WB, it wasnae bad, but the faux vampire killer plot, for the first run out of the gate? I don't think so, but never mind.
Haven't really had time for much else this week. Watched Life on Mars on Tuesday, it was the one where Sam discovers his daddy is a cop killing pornographer and Sam runs around, half the time acting like he's stuck in a platform game, the other half so deeply involved as to be seriously insubordinate. I do like the way Gene doesn't carry a grudge though, as they're off to a pub by the end of it. There are some wonderful Sam and Gene moments here. It's still such a brilliant show.
Then I watched Torchwood. Alas, later viewings do not reveal any hidden (well hidden) brilliance and Owen is still a serial date rapist and Gwen is still self centred and Jack is still no leader and the Hub is just silly (and that's not where the Tardis landed, anyhow) and as for the pointless hero shot atop the building, well. I suppose there would be less of a crowd atop buildings in Cardiff but we remarked that it seemed Cardiff was not spared the blight of Meriton, and Jack ought to be careful, as those struts are probably polystyrene as they are often here. Though I suppose he is indestructible, but still.
Caught up on Two Men in a Trench and Monarchy on Monday while ironing. They made Fat Harry sound like he was all about politics and not carry on up the castle (I swear, you could run the Benny Hill soundtrack over the Tooders and no one would be the wiser). I feel for poor Sir Thomas, though. All that wise counsel then orf with his head. Crap day at the office, eh?
Two Men in a Trench was fun, too. Not the advertised Shrewsbury episode, but on a fortified Scottish Isle in the Firth of Forth and the tale of the shell that went up the street and through kitchens was a keeper: allegedy a wifey sent it back to the base with a note to the effect of 'yours, I believe', and I can well believe it, having heard similiar tales in my travels. It also reminded me of that fabulous grumpy old Scots gent I met who glowered at the German tourists afore us and elucidated, loudly and to my great amusement, how the last time he'd encountered Germans in Edinburgh he was shooting them out of the sky. Hee. Whatever you do, don't mention the war, etc.
Oh, I did manage to watch another episode of Spooks. They didn't kill off Jo (alas), but Rupert was very pretty. Personally, it was a little to Days Of Our Spooks to be a triffic episode and it was Harry lite, which also counted against it greatly. In all, it seemed more like a place holding, treading water episode, you know like those dull saggy episodes they get in between plot movements on Heroes.
Oh, I watched an episode of Robin Hood again and I still can't remember the plot (I'm begining to suspect it had about as much substance as fairy floss) but Richard was gorgeous, Joe was pretty and Sam got some funny lines, so it weren't all bad. and since when could Much not read? I do not like that (lack of) development at all. Surely he'd have to have some rudimentary skills as Robin's man (well, he does in my fic anyway if only because I tend to write him as Jeeves to Robin's Wooster, which isn't too far off the track, either, imho). They just keep taking from poor Much, don't they. At least he gets some of the funny lines now Allan has switched teams (ooo er).
Oh yes, that's what I watched. Top Gear. On Sunday, a whole day of Top Gear. I had to polish all the brass, copper, silver etc before Xmas and this year wasn't about to break a lifetime of habit (I started to get all twitchy and just had to do it) but because my ankle was crook instead of sitting up at the table to do it and getting such sore shoulders after just a couple of hours, I dropped an old blankie on the couch and curled up on it with two more blankies (Two blankies! In December! Have you ever heard of such a thing?!) with the tools of trade arranged on a tv tray and a stack of recent and uncut Top Gear ready to go (thank you).
I know, Top Gear is my guilty secret, but after an entire week of being Miss Bleeding Heart PC govt employee, well, Jezza is just a wee bit cathartic in a watching behind my hands I can't believe he just said that kinda way.
Also, the show is bloody hysterical. Highlights would have to be the lads driving up a French beach after crossing the Channel in a Ford (I think it was a Ford, I know nothing about cars, I'm just there for the insults), Dame Mirren fanging around the circuit (only on Brit telly), the news that the Hamster had adopted Oliver (aww) and the old cars falling to bits (bemused by the 120Y Datsun, for obvious reasons).
Top Gear is great to work to, because I really was just there for the insults, and looking up everytime a car caught fire or drowned (at alarming frequency) and before I knew it, I'd just about done the lot, though I had to string it out with some Sarah Jane Adventures as I found, as always, the odd tarnished piece that got forgotten last time. Nobody told me Joseph Millson was in it. He's dorky cute in it.
I also cleaned and polished several shelves in the kitchen and loungeroom (dealing with enough cubic centimetres of dead roaches to kill the will to live in most people) but you can't really notice because the walls/shelves need repainting/papering badly, but I tried. I still haven't touched the Forbidden Cupboard of Mum's Treasures and I don't think so, given the week I'm having. Accidntally dropping something would just about finish me off, I reckon.
Himself has also suffered frostbite by bravely chipping away at the freezer, which was in a state, having missed its half yearly defrosting. There was something rather sad about carrying away the odd frozen entombed pea in the bucket. Closest we're getting to a white Xmas, despite the unseasonable cold snap.
But Xmas sucks. I'm entirely over December. Everyone is being mean, no matter what I do. I post Xmas cards and the postal worker is mean (apparently wanting to buy stamps in a post office invokes a variation of the Monty Python Cheese Shop sketch) , I buy cakes for co-workers and they insult me. I stay back late doing unpaid overtime and get screamed at.
Well, bah humbug. Does anyone not realise I might be a little verklempt this Xmas as it is? Can you just give me a bit of a break? Would it kill ya? Sigh.
Anyway, back to grumbling and other late night. Here's hoping the pvr is a little less Kevin McKidd adverse than it is Richard Armitage. I think I shall dub my dvd recorder (old) Maid Marian, as in are you mad? Are you blind? How could you not want that tall, dark stripe of gorgeousness?
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