mockturtle (hellblazer06) wrote,

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Tennessee Waltz

Bogged off early at work to go home and do some washing as the day turned out all blue skies and sunshine. Indeed I spent most of the day fretting at the window, counted the wasted drying hours. I desperately needed some washing done, otherwise I'd be coming to work in the comedy t-shirts and everyone here already sneers down at me like I'm shit on their shoe.

Decided not to walk home because I was tired and fed up. Wicked I know but I just didn't feel like humping my heavy winter coat for kilometres and as the bus rattled past shot up bus shelters (for those lucky folk who actually rate a bus shelter), flattened street signage and the mud clogged creek, which, now that its flood waters have receded, was proving quite the olfactory experience.

Actually the bottom of our yard, where AP has banished all my plants, is also a creek, so yes, my drought resistant succulents are all waterlogged and rotting. I can't win, I really can't. Worse, she's stolen all my tiles so I'll have to buy new ones if I'm ever allowed to move my garden back to its wee spot between the stairs and the shed. Sigh. I'm trying not to be bothered and to breathe it out, but you know deep down I'm churning as much as the largest creek must have, given the torn up and flattened state of the reed beds that it had roared over this last week.

I suppose I'm lucky there are still enough creeks not built over so that we didn't flood as badly as in back in the 80s when the school was awash, knee deep, and the steps were waterfalls and cars were floating down the main drag and water came up to the windowsills on some houses. That was impressive. I keep telling people they're living on a floodplain, but until you've lived it, I guess you don't really get why they call it a floodplain, or why cheap little workers cottages were built near waterviews (malarial swamp, oil refinery, Agent Orange producing chemical factories...).

Managed to watch most of Roswell. At lot of tv passes me by in a take it or leave it fashion, and a lot of American customs like the Prom remain entirely alien concepts to me, but the walking in and finding your man pashing someone else, especially someone you rightly loathe and despise, that I understand, and when Liz, having dumped her high maintenance cheating boyfriend curls up happy, content and free and announcing that she could breathe at last and was writing for the first time in a year I wanted to cry and say right with you there, sister. The prom I don't get, dating in highschool I didn't get (all girls school fer starters) but the sudden ability to breathe, the dusting off of notebooks, curling up and writing again after a long, long dry spell, that I get, viscerally.

So yeah, sometimes tv grabs me and affects me so deeply it's quite a shock. Suddenly I find myself in deep empathy with Liz Parker and it's kind of disturbing.

After that it was 24 and after thinking upon Now & Again that afternoon, being reminded by a pic in my inbox, I was again disappointed that The Prez didn't burst into song again tonight. I was also waiting for Radioactive Man to appear as a dear friend had cheered me up by telling me George wasn't dead because nobody knows for sure what crawled from that nuke crater after being exposed to all those gamma rays. Heh. Alas, no Radioactive Man, though, honestly, it's about the only bad tv cliche that's missing. This really is a bad 70s tv show with bells and whistles, mutton dressed up as lamb. It's just the presentation that's new, the plot is so predictable I'm surprised it's not announced in the nightly news that precedes it by a few good hours. And as for the high arch looks towards the camera, well, golly gee if that isn't straight from the Twenties. The 1920s. Sheesh. Come to think of it, this isn't 70s telly at all, it's a 30s serial. With a mighty leap, he was free...

After that it was Blade, I mean Buffy. Or rather Buffy, or more precisely Principal Wood suddenly turned into Blade, and so very Blade I'm surprised they haven't had letters from the lawyers over at Marvel. You know I was bothered when they lifted stuff from Daredevil, X-Men and Hellblazer etc, but then it was pick n mix, more of a lifting of themes or ideas, you could just about call it a homage, but this is out and out plagarism, this is near blatant Blade/Buffy fan fic masquerading as television. Not that I don't think it's a cool idea, but could they have twisted it a bit, the way Farscape used to twist the genre, to give it their own spin. As it is, it's like one of those note perfect covers, kinda creepy and pointless except as a cynical marketing exercise.

This episode was saved entirely by the Xander plot, as always. Poor Xander. Finding myself catnip for Unabomber clones, I do understand his pain, I understand it deeply, and I guess poor Xander and I are going to have to take a vow of celibacy to save us from any more dating disasters. Sure, mine don't end up quite as badly as Xander's, but it's a much, much smaller degree of difference than you would think. I just loved Xander wanting Willow to gay him up, I mean, really, like Xander wasn't the gayest character on the show pre Andrew, and the whole imaginging Scott Bakula naked thing - too fekking funny. Gay Trek boys, can't live with 'em, can't kill 'em, she says with a wry taste of past bitterness, or rather bitter disappointment as they all flew out of the closet like some cgi flock of tearing winged things.

Spent this morning's dark solitude working on my M7 fic. I won't tell you much, but here's the ditty that inspired the title, which tells you just about everything you need to know. That and I can't get Sarah McLachlan's Full Of Grace out of my head since jokingly writing in the margin 'and as the tender Sarah McLachlan song swells in the background we slowly fade out...'

    I was waltzing with my darlin’ to the Tennessee Waltz

    When an old friend I happened to see

    Introduced him to my loved one and while they were waltzing

    My friend stole my sweetheart from me.

    I remember the night and the Tennessee Waltz

    Now I know just how much I have lost

    Yes I lost my little darlin’ the night they were playing

    The beautiful Tennessee Waltz.

  • Tennessee Waltz

  • Full of Grace

  • Damian Lewis

  • Dating a Blogger, Reading All About It

  • Peace plea for U-boat grave

  • Ancient Nicaraguan society found

  • Michael Biehn Archive

  • Eric Close Archive

  • Nick Lea
    and Other Fic


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