Thursday was not a happy day. It was a case of tears before lunchtime, in fact. Maybe because I didn't get to have lunch, or my half day holiday (again, remember I missed out at Xmas, too), or get paid for the 22 hours of overtime I'd been forced to work in lieu of having a life or even watching tv and I was just so fed up that I was the one left with all the work to do while the ugly sisters all took off on their extended holidays, that my life, my quality of life is considered so very unimportant, that I never get time to read the headlines of my newspaper let alone a chapter in a book, that I can't remember the last occassion I had the time to listen to a CD, or the last time I read a book, or finished a story. Nobody cares and it's just so unfair. Meanwhile everyone else in the office takes off on holidays and I'm still expected to do all the work there and all the work at home and I'm always being judged and found wanting. I'm tired of being Cinderella and I know there's no happy ending.
At least once they'd all buggered off and left me alone in the office I could turn the radio on and Adam and Will were being feeelthy and making me laugh and they had the Violent Femmes play live, my faves, too, so I did kinda of manage to whistle while I worked.
Naturally I got home late and dark, soaking wet and cold from the rain and still too crook for food so it was straight to bed, washing up be damned.
Friday: I woke up almost 14 hours later and it's cold and wet (no washing!) but quiet so I write for a couple of hours. Nothing good but it makes me feel better (and I've missed out on the weekly shopping expedition, shucks and darn, not). Then I help bake a cake while watching Westerns and better Easterns (where they shoot actual Indians) on tv then I curled up on the couch still in my Colin Baker-esque pyjamas and snuggling under the doona to watch Invisible Man until my dvd spat the dummy and insisted upon watching something else (it gets funny if you play two or three episodes off the same dvd, same with my Stargate ones - shrug). Despite my dvd's opinion I adore the boys. Vincent is one fine looking man and the lads have just declared they would die for each other. Awwww. There's a lot of rubbing up against each other, too. Sure it's just about the quicksilver. Whatever you say, boys.
So I switch to Angel and both my dvd and I revel in the lush widescreen versions of season three. It's so beautifully filmed, with such grand, operatic arcs - I really love this show and I'm just wallowing in the dvd quality. Gorgeous. I listen to several commentaries and play all the extras bar the ode to Darla. It was worth getting the UK version. Beautiful presentation, beautiful quality and I get to see David give Alexis a nipple cripple. Sweet.
After an encore presentation of A New World (hey, Tony on dvd) I put the dvd to bed and went off to watch Taggart. On the weekends lately it's been Taggart, Taggart, Taggart but there's bugger else on. They say you're sad and middleaged if you watch Taggart. Thankfully I only watched a bit of it. My friend tapes it, snigger.
I try to sleep but fail so I switch acroos to Conan and whoa! There's Michael Rosenbaum being charm itself. Bonus! Then I switch back to Fox8 in timto catch a Colin soundbite. Sweet.
Saturday: The following takes place over 24 hours on the day of the Fox8 24 marathon. This is probably going to be the longest day of my life.
Jack, Jack and more Jack but 20 minutes into it and I'm working on my dreadful Now & Again fic, the one I tried to start in November but was so rudely interupted (not the least by losing my web site). It's not good, in fact it's bloody awful and worse, m/f, but as nobody read the first one who really cares? It's keeping me awake and at least I'm writing something as I've already got the plot in my head (such as I can remember it) it doesn't matter if it's all perspiration and no inspiration that gets it all down on the page, because nobody read the first one. They can't all be my best effort and I need this one out of my head and down on paper. Been working on Smallville too. Maybe I'll dig out that Space one and work on all my stalled fics this weekend.
I wish I was at that con but as I could neither afford the cost or the time and while I rsent my work taking over my life, at least I had a cold wet day to watch dvds with impunity. Sure I could have done stuff like cleaning up but after crying in public yesterday when I was told to stay back until Sunday if necessary to get the work done, which is unfair, I decided I need at least one day off, from everything. From the world.
It's 3 am and Kim has been kidnapped twice already. Sheesh.
[There was quite a bit of fic written in this space but as most of it was either bridging work, rewrites, pickups or just plain bad I won't bore you with it here].
It's 7 pm. Bro wants to know why Jack's phone bateries haven't given out yet. Details, details. Bro is finding 24 a bit claustrophobic and heavy going but may yet view the last few eps on dvd tomorrow. I'm going to miss bits too, due to Smallville and Farscape on tonight.
Smallville: The episode where Clark comes out to Pete and Pete doesn't want to know about it. Any more I can't tell you because EvilChannelNine keep cutting it into a collection of unconnected vignettes. It's more of a collage than a narrative, more of a sketch show than a drama. And now for something completely different. We do see some uncomfortable and very Oedipal father/son moments between Lionel and Lex. There was one Clark/Lex scene (in our version anyway), Clark's mum once again being the facilitator/matchmaker, but Lex was all Mr Cranky Pants on account of his overly touchy feely Dad situation. So I guess there'll be a lot of Clark/Pete out there now.
It's 9 pm and Kim's been kidnapped again. Bro says it's like that old joke: "A woman is mugged every ten minutes." "Oh, that poor woman." (Boom, tish). Bro has also stated that Mrs Palmer has nothing on Mrs Urquart in the Lady Macbeth stakes, Mrs FU having decided being the widow of an assainated politician was much more sociially acceptable than being the wife of a disgraced politician. Heh.
Farscape: When we last left out heroes...and thanks for the update Farscape because buggered if I could remember. The Two Johns plot, check. This was the siren planet one and let me tell you, just about the scariest thing I've seen in Farscape so far: Guest Starring Mark Mitchell. And indeed we had some very, very Space 1999 high camp god like aliens running about and gnawing at the sides of poor Talyn. I did like Aeryn and Crichton and the naughty mist. Naughty, naughty mist :) Must use that as a fic device sometime, that naughty mist. And suddenly we just started shagging....
12 am. Did it! ZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Sunday. 1.50 pm, and waking up just in time for the holy trinity of The Good, The Bad and The Ugly on Movie Greats. Oh yeah, that's the stuff, Clint being so shit hot and cool. I squirm with delight as my favourite bits roll past, one after the other.
Stagger out of my room and realise, oh shit, easter. Passed out so promptly at midnight that I'd entirely forgotten to hide eggs and everything. Oh dear. Never mind, family is happy to have chocolate anyway they can get it and my belated offerings restock dwindling supplies. Aged Parent has even taken advantage of the dreary British weather to put on a roast dinner, with a new tablecloth and everything. Alas Aged Parent makes Rygel look mannered and lets one rip at the table, causing more delicate sibling to flee in horror. No matter, more for me (though it doesn't last, still with the violent flu bug. Fancy going through easter too unwell to manage even a sliver of chocolate - I'm usually like this for Xmas, rarely Easter).
Wine and washing up do not mix so I toddle off to slump in front of increasingly Picasso-esque ye olde bedroom tv (the picture is blue and abstract) to catch up on a week's worth of tv. I make a start on umpteen episodes of Sports Night (loved the Eli's Coming episode), breaking only for Frontier House and Queen of Swords, which featured Pete in the bath, so that's a keeper, and added to my Bert Kwok collection - grin.
Monday: In spite of being up all night with violent flu, very unhappy over the whole Sunday roast situation, I was woken up by rotten Calvinist family at ungodly hour, ie before noon, and so spent the day sulking and reading the papers. It fined up for an hour or so which meant weeding and passive aggressive magpies who made their displeasure over their now restricted diet known to me in no uncertain terms. A week ago my garden was parched brown twigs. Now it is waterlogged twigs. I can't win. One of my dear fragipanni cuttings had gone rotten from all the rain and I had to cut about 3cm off the top. If you know what a frang cutting might look like you'll know why I was amused at taking a knife to it (watch all the boys take up defensive positions - grin).
After that the sun started setting so it was back inside under the doona to finish off watching the week's telly. Enterprise decided to do The Magnificent Seven, Trek style, and the less said about that the better. Re-watched Boomtown and Buffy because I'd missed bits, and found Boomtown just as enjoyable the second time around.
By now it was Roswell time and the whole regrettable blue crystal jellyfish arc, so I'll just try and concentrate on the B plots: Sheriff Valenti being booted out of his job for being spotted with Max in the woods at night, tsk, and the setting up of the Alex arc - whimper.
After that it was 24 which as usual was all go and hugely exciting and it's only when I try to write what happened and I realise I've been tricked again with a lot of running about and shouting and not a whole lot of plot. Still, I grew up on heavily edited versions of the Professionals which were nowt but shouting, waving guns and car chases so I guess it must hit a nostalgia button. In fact, the similarities, once I think of them, really start to rack up. Same job description, fer starters. I did like Management only bothering to visit the blown to buggery CTU something like twelve hours after the event, and only to nit pick and empire build by snatching things from the still warm corpse to feather their own nests. How very realistic, in that one aspect, at least.
Buffy featured the return of Giles but he was very much sidelined and his role lacked warmth this time around. It was mainly just a build up to Buffy's St Crispin Day speech. She gives one every season and I guess this one was better than most, but she still needs to delegate more :) Oh, and I can see where the Andrew/Xander slash is coming from. It's really disturbing.
Tuesday: Managed some quality typing and tea drinking time before the ugly step sisters showed up but now it's miserable and her perfume is making me queasy again, and I'm queasy enough as it is, thankyou. I was hoping to get more fic done today, in fact the plan was to do only fic today as they owe me 3.5 days, but alas, no. Sigh.