The Peanut Gallery says the band analogy is perfect, with Rossetti doing the drugs death thing, Millais being the commercial sellout and Holman Hunt putting out the difficult solo albums. Heh. But right now, being only episode two, everything is cute and arch and funny before the fall.
Unlike on Wuthering Heights were naturally everything goes tits up as the aggressively unlovely characters are aggressively unkind to each other. Dysfunction in a corked bottle is what it is. Cruelty piling upon cruelty. But then it ends on a hopeful note, though you wonder how these damaged children are ever going to get out of the patterns of abuse their parents imprinted upon them. It's all deliciously grim and vastly entertaining when happening to someone else (I dare say if you were actually living WH you'd find it a damn sight less romantic and gothic).
Meanwhile, I am bruised. I spent yesterday, all day yesterday, wrestling dead trees out of the yard, and investing new victims into large pots which we'd picked up on a shopping expedition on Saturday. So I'm all bruised and scratched and sore from chopping up said trees into the green bin (garden waste, in regulation size bits) but at least I did something. didn't finish the repotting because instead of going off to lug more bags back by hand I lured friends over with cake in the hopes of getting assistance, but there was just cake. not sure how that happened but never mind. discovered they're moving out of the 10,000km exclusion zone to run a B&B down in Tassie, which leaves me entirely alone. Expect me to go weird. Still, I don't have to clean up or cater for Xmas any more, I suppose.
Oh, the cake was a treat. The Peanut Gallery did himself proud by making a halloween cake, decorated like something out of a 70s Women's Weekly with a licorice spider web. Cute.
Anyhoo, there was yum cha as well as shopping on Saturday. I'd missed four yum chas so far so I was not best pleased but if the carry on apres yum cha was anything to go by, I made the right decision: still not yum cha able, alas. But it was a brave try.
Although maybe it's a bit harsh to blame it all on the yum cha. I did get in a selection of sweeties, not to mention a large fuzzy spider called George, in case we had any trick or treaters (not really done here but some years we get the odd one or three) but as the Grinch had scared off all the neighbourhood kiddies (which I didn't hear about until Sunday) well, there's a shitload of snakes and freckles to get through. In my defence I reckon I worked off a couple of freckles yesterday, heaving stuff around the yard.
I also found a stash under the house of rotting piles of stuff my mother had nicked off me, including favourite t-shitrs, pillow cases (!), socks, books, notebooks, magazines, videos, cards, postcards, expensive teabags and even medicines, all ruined. She really, really hated me. I'm still really, really beyond upset over that but I'm not allowed to show it, so if I get more than a bit woe is me over the next month or so, bear in mind what I'm trying to process, 'k? At least now I know I should go buy those new t-shirts in the shops I saw the other week instead of trying to find my old faves. At least I know, too, that I'd not misplaced this stuff. I think I'd rather still think I'd a dimwitted mess-bag than know the truth. Wouldn't you?
Hitler had more friends than me. It's a sobering thought.
Friday: Okay, briefly: watched more Desperate Romantics, which is still hilarious. Saw some True Blood, Burn Notice. It was very, very hot, now it's cold. I''ve spent all week exiled to the outer branch office, actually at the desk next to my old desk - it was still there! The view I loved was still there! Been getting home early and running about doing stuff - so I'm completely fragged now. One thing that has changed is I can't get from the bus to the office without going through the mall. This has been...expensive. Had lunch with a mate. Ran into lots of old friends. Visit old shops (those still extant). Bought myself a new pillow. It's been fun.
Mullet count (well, it is a backwater): six.
Hark! A Vagrant - get me off this freaking moor
The Boondock Saints II: All Saints Day (2009)
‘Boondock Saints’ sequel’s sinfully awful
Holmes sweet Holmes: Literature's greatest sleuth
the onion on how to find masculine Halloween costumes for your Effeminate son
'Supernatural' meets 'Incredible Hulk'
mal costume on castle
Sam Trammell at the Veuve Clicquot Yelloween party at TAO Las Vegas, Nevada
Meeting the hairy neighbours
Forget porn, gimme my smut
flowers for the people - or not...
Ye Olde Resource Post
Accident-prone Richard Hammond on crutches after falling over on woodland run
"The Red Shoes" New York Screening (Alessandro Nivola)
Anthropology giant Claude Levi-Strauss dead at 100
Heroes star Adrian Pasdar (Nathan Petrelli) learned of axing from script'
Law & Order Tackles Letterman Sex Scandal
AFI FEST 2009 Screening Of "The Road" - Arrivals (Viggo)
AFI FEST 2009 Screening Of "The Road" - Red Carpet
Colonic-irritation of US style gurus