mockturtle (hellblazer06) wrote,
mockturtle
hellblazer06

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don't make me angry...

It was tears before bedtime last night. In fact, while cleaning off my glasses I noticed it was quite a high tide of tears. I don't mean to be a simpering girlie girl but after giving them 300% it still wasn't enough. I was working 6-9 days without pay, left all alone to do an impossible amount of work on Deadline Day and constantly harrassed by cruel and bad tempered managers.

It was cold and wet and I was nearly run down, very nearly, as I staggered home and I forgot to buy my thai and I was miserable because if I was paid my overtime I could buy my new much needed PC and there was no left overs to be had (or worth having) so it was off to bed without any food all day, and I just threw myself on my bed and cried and cried. All through Roswell in fact, though it was the one they'd played on Saturday (1st ep, season 2) anyway and the only character that amuses me right now is the fey deputy. I'm so over Max, et al, but the fey deputy amuses. I caught him shivering over his goosebumps again as I went out the door this morning (so I was late, so sue me). I don't think there's enough of the fey deputy in Roswell.

I was also rather blue because Katharine Hepburn died. She was one of my idols, since I was a young lass, a real aspirational model. I never ever managed the class but I'm pretty sure I've emulated the sharp tongue - grin. I just loved to watch her, just last week I was watching her. Too sad. Watch: The Philadelphia Story, Bringing Up Baby and Desk Set. Especially Desk Set, that one speaks to me on so many levels as in been there, done that.

The one small thing that has amused me is poor amazon wondering why they're suddenly shifting so many units of Alessandro. Still, anything to make the boy's stock go up, and as those dear pragmatic Brits say, there's no such thing as bad publicity. Sure, lots of actors loathe fan fic and fan pages but I've known a couple who were deeply, deeply miffed that they weren't getting as much fan fic action as their co-stars.

Everybody, sing!

    "What about me? It isn't fair
      I've had enough, now I want my share
      Can't you see, I wanna live
      But you just take more than you give..."

Heh. Everyone in my geographic demographic is now shuddering from bad Moving Pictures histrionics flashbacks and the rest of you are wondering what the hell am I on about now. Never mind, it's not important.

The only thing I did watch was the penultimate of 24, because like hell was I going to miss that. Lots of running about and shouting and driving very fast. Jack Bauer is definitely a graduate of Bodie's School for TV Tough Guys - grin. So very, very. We even had rear view mirror acting - snerk.

And if you spoil me on 24 I will shoot to kill. Though I was spoiled yesterday on some movie I wanted to see that has yet to wash up on these blighted shores but I've forgotten which one now. Ah, the joys of getting old - spoilers are no longer the nuisance they once were. :)

I'm feeling somewhat besieged today. I'm all alone and surrounded by Orcs, ie managers. Just had to explain to one who was insisting on lurid green and blue text on a bright orange background that one of the first rules of information design is not to cause fits in the readers. You wouldn't think it'd be a pov I'd have to defend, for over an hour, right? On top of that the dreaded lurgy that has felled family and friends is clawing at me, but I will stay manfully at my post for as long as possible.

Not ideal conditions, but maybe the stress will force out the next bit of the story from my subconscious. I'm supposed to kill Billy's horse next but I've grown weirdly fond of that horse, and I say weirdly because I'm an avowed horse hater due to a very unhappy pony experience as a small child. Darn, I'll have to kill off a couple of blonde, rich Berkley students instead. Oh drat, she says, with a very big smirk. So I'm stuck facing a big rewrite, and I need to do it properly, take my time, make it right. Please, please let me get home at a decent hour tonight so I can doodle something at least.

It's the Wesley syndrome. You write in a character with the sole intention of giving them a very messy death in Act III, but then you just can't bring yourself to do it. Not that I mind Wesley's escae from the jaws of script death, not at all.

Oh, I forgot to mention the alarming display of nepotism in Cambridge Spies, to wit, the wife of Toby Stephens. As she also plays Osiris in Stargate, there was much sniggering from the peanut gallery. If only Sam's parents would put in an appearance - grin.


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