Funnily enough, I ended up watching Life on Mars. I can't help it, it sucks me in every time, dammit. And every time it's different. Ah, my constantly changing, crazy little show.
I've also been watching a lot of Avengers (box sets! whee!) and I've decided that I like black and white Steed best. I dunno how or why, but he just lost his essential Steedness once they went to colour and became a 2D stuffy caricature of what he'd been. Give me wicked, witty, ruthless man of action B/W Steed any day. The dialogue was a helluva lot naughtier in the b/w eps, too. I tell ya, some of the things they say leave me blushing. Black and white Avengers are feelthy, and the most fun things to watch.
Also, note Daleks in Death at Bargain Prices, which is cute considering it started out life as A Dr Who episode, and weird because dialogue was more Cathy than Emma (Emma usually doesn't threaten direct violence on Steed's person, where Cathy always did) and even weirder, all that running about in a London dept store after dark reminded me of Rose (the episode, not the chick). Well, it did.
Also caught up on Dexter, the serial killer with a heart of gold (well, he claims he has no heart, but I think he doth protest too much, certainly he fakes it better than I do) which was fabby, and far, far, far less gruesome than any British medical series, let me tell you. I do like my tv darkly funny, though, and the sly humour as well as the somewhat ruthless revenge set pieces aren't a million miles from a good many Avengers episodes.
Caught up on some Robin Hood and for Xmas, aside from some nostalgic Xmas pieces, we tried to work our way through the twelve days of Xmas. We played Castle De'ath (Avengers) for our pipers, Hot Fuzz for our swan, an Adam Adamant ep for our maids (they were milking a charity fund) and cheated a bit with Sound of Drums for our drummers and leaping lords. The rest alas were a bit lame so if you can think of anything cooler, let me know for next time.
After that we got distracted into watching the bloopers and deleted scenes and some of DT's video diaries (a fanboy and his videocam) on the box set and I am still cracking up over DT singing Robert De Niro instead of doing Robert De Niro in front of the mirror. Oh, Davey, never change, you wee dafty.
Mind you, he could change his taste in suits. I'm not sure which is worst, the purple velvet monstrosity he wore to Billie's wedding or the walking test pattern ensemble he wore to the Xmas Special screening.
It must be a Scots thing because dearest Dougray has an equally awful tartan suit he's worn to all sorts of events (not seen recently though, perhaps the latest missus has arranged a tragic dry cleaning accident) and it even featured in The Crow Road. Which I must watch again. Even my addled auld mother remembered The Crow Road as "the one with the exploding grannie". And that gawdawful suit of Dougray's.
So, are Scottish tailors particularly aesthetically challenged, or is it just the fellas?
Watched even more stuff (it was unseasonably cold and I was unwell, what with the spots and the usual). Found a flick called Spirit Trap which wasn't bad, pretty much your average perfectly serviceable episode of Sea of Souls or Supernatural, only more like Sea of Souls because it did drag a bit, it was British and hello, it had almost exactly the same plot as the last Sea of Souls outing, but for all that it was a far more watchable little flick than I'd been led to believe and I almost came close to caring about a couple of the characters. It had Billie Piper in it. And a sweet little chap, but I don't think I've seen him in anything, much (hee).
Also, as I was too ick to go see Atonement which is finally here, I had to sate my need for wee Jimmy McAvoy in WWII drag by putting on Foyle's War (I had Band of Brothers on standby but was more of a mood to watch the more soothing Foyle, even though I'm still traumatised by the bad 90s home perm Michael Kitchen was sporting in Morse the other week, cause I just know now under Foyle's hat lurks the bad 90s home perm, I just know it). Anyway, there was wee Jimmy, shamelessy (ahem) scene stealing, the dear boy. The episode also featured Robert Hardy (sans pig), Rosamond Pike and that strange little lad again as Policeman #2, bless. He didn't get to say much (hee!), the poor dear.
I kind of got distracted and ended up watching some Unit One again, picking up where SBS rudely left off. There wasn't much Fischer/La Cour, but the bit where they both roared up in their cars together and exchanged silly grins, aw, sweet. La Cour was also taking great delight in tut tutting over Fischer's recent extra marital exploits. It's fun to see Fischer squirm, just for once, albeit briefly.
In fact it's been Eurocops au go go as SBS has been serving out large slices of Inspector Rex for Xmas and New Year (though the Lassie-ness of it at times has me gagging) and somebody got the Rex By Request dvd for xmas so there's been a lot of doggy on the dvd player.
I can't help it, Rex reminds me of my beloved doggy, especially the ham roll obession. We're still in very early Rex (so I've not actually seen any later series because I only ever watched it when it was Moser) and there's lots of laughing and pointing at the hair and size of mobile phones, etc. Life on Mars is one thing, but I really feel old when something from the mid 90s looks just as prehistoric.
Ditto Morse. Unfortunately I was entirely unable to get my act together and missed taping the Sean Bean and Jason Isaac episodes, despite having circled them in the tv guide. Damn, but that Bean episode eludes me. And OMG, look how young they were! Ditto Steven Mackintosh who popped up in Poirot as well as a paper boy! Aiyeee, where they ever that young?
Also missed tapig something with Phil Glenister in it, too, despite having also circled it (we don't have Tivo so it's still the old analogue circle the tv guide and try to friggin' remember to tape it system, which obviously doesn't work when I'm off my game).
And I don't have any excuses because it was himself who did all the cooking over the holidays. And oh, what delights! The turkey was the best ever and even the gravy worked (it's been years since I've made gravy but it's like riding a bicycle, only I've never ridden a bicycle). I should have written more on NYE when I came in because it's so long ago now, but circumstances overtook me. Anyway, the turkey: brilliant. Gravy, veggies, all brilliant. We sat and watched Rex on telly then we had pudding during the Edinburgh tattoo (actual pudding, bought from DJs cause himself was too frazzled to manage pudding as well, and covered in apple cider when the bottle erupted but what's Xmas without a bit of slapstick, eh?) then we finished off with coffee and chocolate and Life on Mars. Perfect.
I got a roast chook for New Years, with roast tatties and left over Xmas cake (bought to take to a party we never got properly invited to and who reneges on xmas invites to motherless orphans anyway?) and more coffee and chocolates and that was fun, too.
I know, you're thinking that was a lot of tv watching and eating (adieu, size 14), and it was. There was none of the quiet reading, writing, weeding and even scanning I'd looked forward to all year. The thing of it was I was covered head to toe in nasty, stinging spots and I was far too irritated to do anything but sit on the couch and scritch and watch and sulk. I did have fun, and it was the most peaceful xmas I've had in a long, long while, but the dratted spots kinda undercut it all, just a bit (and I refuse to submit to the diagnosis of nerves because, omg, spots everywhere and I thought I was doing so well at the stiff upper lippy).
Maybe it is just neurotic guilt over enjoying myself. Maybe I'm far more upset over this move at work than I dare admit (no webby!) and maybe it's some stuff that I've seriously messed up and can't fix or maybe it's stuff I was supposed to do but haven't. Sitting on the couch watching tv isn't a soloution to anything, but it got me through a very itchy xmas.
Xmas day sucked. I shoulda stayed home with the Fred on the telly but no, we went to the local rellies for the first time ever. It was awful, but worst of all was the whole falling for the 'don't bring any presents' statement. Well, I wasn't that stupid, I did bring a large and expensive hamper but I was expecting just immediate family but no, apparently these Xmas parties we've never been invited to before are like street parties with all sorts of folk and everyone had to exchange pressies and we had none to give (not that we could have as I'd no idea who half those people were). "Oh, thank you for making our first Xmas without our mother socially awkward" withered the peanut gallery the next day. At least we won't be invited back. It was also outdoors and effin' freezing. I spent the whole evening shivering under blankets when I got home. Even had to put the heater on (and one day I'll remember to post a pic so you know why the heater is referred to as "Dalek Bumps").
Next time: stick with Fred.
Anyway, not got much time so I'll scoot through the remaining highlights, which is mainly the trip to Cabramatta with friend (The sights! The sounds! The exotica! The yummy lunch!) and getting another two wishes granted. Okay, in a horrid monkey paw way cause I was only at the charity shop dropping off my dead mother's clothes (not a fun job, I can tell you, but I'd not had a chance before now) but I not only spied the chair I'd dreamed and lusted about but also a ratty framed print of a Georges De La Tour. But the chair, oh my. Just perfect. We've yet to identify it properly but it's definitely a late 50s Australian made piece, very stylish, still in remarkably good nick and in avocado green so it just matches the lounge room so perfectly that I barely notice it's there.
Oh yeah, the whole lounge room is still the old avocado/burnt organge decor and wicked imps that we are, we've decided to glorify it (ironically, of course, you understand). So I also picked up a burnt orange murano glass vase for $2.00. I dare not tell you what I paid for the chair but you could add a couple of zeroes if I'd bought it at the other end of the city. It's so brilliant. I never thought we'd get it home but somehow the sales guy bent time and space to fit it in the back seat and we managed to get it out again, too. And it is just...perfect. Begone crap 80s furniture, hello early 60s glam. [edit: research has identied our chair as a 'Fler' chair and it is indeed worth quite a bit more than what we paid for it - squee].
Actually, since we took the tree down (sniff) and tidied up a bit we've hustled away some cheap nasty tatt and brought out the sekrit stashed designer pieces and it's retro au go go, baby. Heh.
Oh yes, it's Monday again and I still haven't posted this. I'd dashed off early to go see Atonement at the cinema, quite a thing as I've not been out to a flick in, well, a long, long while, but the advertised session wasn't on (I wasn't impressed but the oh so typical response was: tough). I had to chose between going home or something else and for once I went for something else and settled for No Country For Old Men. I have not seen Josh Brolin in anything for ages. He was such a favourite of mine in another lifetime. He's still good, really good and every so often he'd just do something or just stand there and it'd be oh, yeah, I remember you and the way you do that.
But aside from re-drooling over Josh, it was a darkly funny but oh so bleak and rather abrupt film and it made about as much sense as a terminator flick or spag western but I'm hip to those. The friend I was with squirmed muchly so no pimping Dexter to her (heh). Neat to see Kelly in there too, and Tommy Lee has never been so adorable (not an adhective I thought I'd ever apply to the man).
But, yeah, bleak. But funny. And it really, really reminded me of some of the Larry McMurtry stuff I've read (lots of Larry riffs this week).
Saturday I wasn't feeling well so instead of doing the scanning and housework as I'd promised myself I would I just kinda sat around, though there was a lot of activity for my b-day dinner. Himself made duck l'orange (I'm not allowed anymore roasts this year) and it was brill. There was also a birthday cake which was also brill.
UKTV also came to the party with yet more David Tennant, as though playing all of Casanova on New Year's Eve wasn't enough. Did I mention New Year's Eve? Had to go into work and was supposed to be there all day but whoops, you know what's early, and I was so ick I had to get a taxi home at 11am (unheard of, especially as a taxi home is the price of a delux box set, but I wasnae gonna make it on the bus). Still, that meant I was home when the cable guy came out to fix the broadband. Turns out something had pulled the cable out where it runs up along the wall. Uh huh. Think a Norman Lindsay-esque version of the Usual Suspects poster featuring shifty possums and cockatoos. Grrr. So that was fixed. Not that I've had a chance to use it.
So NYE was a bit of an ordeal as I sat up on the couch with hot water bottles and blankies waiting for midnight. Thankgoodness for Casanova. And my hypnotic light up xmas snowman that rocks back and forth and strobes through the rainbow - very soothing when in dire need of something to focus on.
Anyway, yes, birthday eve (I decided to have dinner on the Sat because Sunday was looking to be rushed with all the things I had planned) with Blackpool, Spooks and Doctor Who - the Christmas Invasion MKI. Ah, UKTV, your Greek Orthodox station - hee.
Sadly for me the combination of a rich dinner, hormones, mystery rash and pills for mystery rash had me so suddenly and violently ill I had to throw myself into the shower and it was just awful, all night and all morning. Poor Peanut Gallery wondered on which of my many dashes to the loo to upchuck should I be greeted with "Happy Birthday!". Just my luck, eh? It was as hot and humid as anything, too, which did not help (I know, TMI, but I just want you to know there's a very good reason why I didn't slave over a hot scanner all day, 'kay).
A cup of tea and an episode of The Avengers helped me get human (the bad guy had the same school tie as Steed, how embaressing) and then it was presents! I got The Long Way Down on dvd, and I wallowed on the couch and watched three episodes of Ewan bitching and moaning (but he's also cute and funny so I forgive him heaps but you'd think he'd have learnt more from the last trip, so says the pot calling the kettle black).
Then we put the deccies away, as twelth night tradition dictates, and I was ever so greatful for the help, as I was Little Miss Butterfingers and I was also bloody glad I'd thought to err on the side of caution and only put up 60% of the deccies this year. Because I was still trying to get the lights back into their boxes when Clarkson appeared on Who Do You Think You Are.
And just when I thought I'd get through at least twelve hours sans Mr Tennant, he popped up in a cameo in the Chatterly Affair. Also, nekkid Rafe! I wasn't going to watch but it was too hot and steamy to watch, and, well, hot and steamy telly to match, eh?
Well, that's about it. And if I remember to copy the pics off my camera (one of the many things I was supposed to do but didn't but, man, I've been off my game of late) I'll post 'em later cause if I don't post this soon I never will.
Also, this week might be the last Brit News Weekly for a while. I am annoyed because for the most part I've managed to work around massive job and personal upheaveals without having to cut back, in fact I've cut back on everything else but, but I'm afraid from next week onwards I'm not sure where I will find the time and resources to do it any more. It's not the way I want it but it's the way it has to be. I am so not happy about it but I'm afraid they've completely foxed me and boxed me in this time.
Ah, still haven't had a chance to see the Dr Who Xmas special, but I hear it's entirely lacklustre and the local press have entirely spoiled me on the plot. Nice one. Spoiled myself on Robin Hood but I just had to know, and, well, the there was one post on a slightly more wicked list that featured Guy and the caption "LMAO" that had me grinning.
I'm entirely not surprised by the ending as I've seen the same sort of triangle end much the same way elsewhere (and leading to a far darker and more interesting season but let's not get our hopes up here). Still can't wait to see the actual episodes, as snarky screencaps are fun, but so is the show. It's not great, but it's greatly improved, even if Keef is still bringing the Dick Emery.
Btw, after missing the Bean and Isaac Morse episodes last week I managed to catch the Keef one three times without trying at all, in fact it seemed it was all that was being screened over the weekend. Mind you, with all the Satanists running about we were wondering if someone hadn't found an old Dennis Spooner script that had been showed up the back of a drawer and when Keef emerged in drag at the end with that wig and that bright floral frock all we could think was: Lily! Oh dearie me.
Anyway, it's late (well, for me, anyway), I'm completely knackered and I gotta go scratch some more.
How To Be Dead
Phil on Catherine Tate Christmas Special
Who Shot Nathan Petrelli
James Bond stamps to be launched
Bond stamps: From Ruislip with love
The battle for the soul of Thunderball
Creator of a popular 19th-century rogue comes to the end
Time-travel film kept for future
eBay rush to buy dragster that almost killed Top Gear presenter
Real Scrooge 'was Dutch gravedigger'
Scrooge heads up 'worst boss' poll
Heroes: New Ways to Survive the Superpower Outage
Why can't men pick Christmas presents?
No Country For Old Men like Josh Brolin
Josh Brolin muses on his recent success
Catch of the day: what is it with celebrities?
Not Up on British Slang, Dear? You May Be Bovvered
The Guardian profile: Billie Piper
Bring back Joe 90
"F-A-B All About Thunderbirds" Photocall
Milo and Hayden: Heroes Hookup Talk Heats Up
Fast-tracking fails to beat the pirates (Top Gear)
Bodies point to Alaska's past
Gilding the Lily
If only we could vote for the next US president
Green power is black hole for rare eagles
Snake discovers there's a golf between egg and ball
The unsolved crime of the century: the hunt for D B Cooper
Bittersweet Work of Wrapping ‘Wire’
George MacDonald Fraser
Rogue star hunting for Aussie wife
Rogue star downunder
Actor calls for SBS to change gear
Top Gear's Jeremy Clarkson touted for British PM
Illegal downloads growing
Heroes number one illegal download