mockturtle (hellblazer06) wrote,
mockturtle
hellblazer06

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Discomfort guides my tongue

And bids me speak of nothing but despair.
- William Shakespeare, The Tragedy of King Richard the Second

Monday: I'm off home. I was hoping to get home earlier, just to veg out in front of Roswell and Buffy, but nothing doing. Pity because I'm pretty cabbage like, already. Between being in a good deal of squishy hurties and all the good drugs I've snaffled like Smarties, trying to code is a lot like trying to knit with mittens on. And not those thin little mittens you buy in Woolies either, but my big fluffy 'bloody hell I'm in Arizona in February and I've got snow up to my arse and I'm only wearing thin little Woolies gloves' mittens. Yup, definitely got my brain mittens on and everything is clumsy and stupid. Even just trying to look at pics of Alessandro achieves an almost insurmountable degree of difficulty. Yup, time to bugger off home while I can still stand. At least, I think I can still stand. It's a very wobbly, shaky exercise. Me not well. Me want to go home. Me so should not be attempting anything complicated today. Me not want to fix fiddly pages.

It would help, too, if EvilPC could lay off gaslighting me just for a bit. Occassionally pages, folders and huge chunks of code just vanish, for no good reason, only to reappear later. Usually more annoying than weird because I'm used to it doing this but today I'm not ready for its little tricks and games and it bloody well knows it. Nasty cruel computer. It hurts us.

Tuesday: Do two halves of a Buffy make a whole? Got home in time to see the end of one episode of Buffy, the one with the Evil Watcher and the glove thingy (I suck at episode titles and I can't be arsed googling it, and you damn well know the one I mean, anyway). This, with yet another cup of tea, soothed my weary soul. Walked through the door right when Angel was indulging in some shirt free tai chi, back when a shirt free Angel was a thing of beauty. Or when he had cheekbones, not jowels, as the peanut gallerly sniggered cruelly.

Discovered my friend has powerful JuJu that should not be messed with. I was threatening her with screen caps of Sam in the socks of evil but couldn't find any on the web, or on tape in the local excuse for a vid shop (excuse me, is this a video shop?) and I laughed wickedly that I was taping it last night. Well, the last laugh was on me as one of our frequent brownouts wiped the timer 18 minutes in while I was asleep and it was the final play on cable (I only have a couple of movie channels) and so that was that. She zapped me with her JuJu and there will be no pictures of Sam in the socks of evil, ever. And yea, there was rejoicing in the streets.

Note to self: do not piss off said friend.

I'm hoping to have better luck taping Sam today in something called Submerged, which seems to involve a toy sub stuck on the bottom of a bathtub from what I peeked at last night (it was on opposite Now & Again), I mean Irwin Allan would have blushed at the SFX (Abandon toy! Abandon toy!) , but Sam looked effing gorgeous as usual (bar a few noteworthy exceptions cf socks) so I hope it works.

Sort of watched Roswell and Seven Days. I was scribbling a bit, sticking pictures in my new journal, pawing said piccies and sort of washing in and out as, and I hate to moan too much, but I really couldn't move at all. The last time I felt that rough I ended up in an ambulance, but never mind. I was waiting up for Now and Again, dammit.

Now and Again: last week I tried to bang on about all the themes and ideas and my reading of the text week. This week all I want to say is: Eric Close. Shirtless. Nuff Said, really. What more do you want in a show? I'll usually go for a bit of plot, an interesting story, a witty script, some decent acting, some imaginative photography. Got all that, check. It was pretty much a continuation of last week's episode. As always when I see things on cable ie less chopped to pieces it had a much better narrative flow and was therefore much more enjoyable to watch.

After that I watched Buffy, and it's hard to watch Mal from Firefly being super evil (as opposed to just everyday snarky), cause I like Mal. I loved the Faith killed a Vulcan scene. I was giggling away, then the next thing I knew it was the NBC Today show. I totally passed out. Good thing a dear friend had already slipped me a disk of this episode. I'm turning into such a nanna, though in my defence I was overtired, unhappy crampy and dosed to the eyeballs. Speaking of eyeballs I'm rather glad I did sleep through the end - poor Xander. Xander's just about the only likable Scooby left and I hate to see him whumped, no matter what my reputation might indicate to the contrary.

Arrrgh. All by myself, as the song laments, super crampy and I've got systems crashing around my ears. Time to curl up under my desk, rocking back and forth, wimpering and sucking my thumb, I should think.


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