Heh. R-- has just asked for all that pesky white space to be removed from my latest designs, again. R-- is obviously stockpiling for some future world white space shortage. What is it with marketing dudes and their extreme white space issues. Now I know why directors have their names taken off films that have been f'd up beyond all recognition. I'd be loathe for anyone to see the end result of my designs once they've been f'd over by committees. Now he's gotten rid of all that pesky white text he wants the text and banner not to be aligned. Oh, for the love of...
Okay, here we go.
Friday: the most exciting thing that happened to me was my PC being demonically possesed. No, seriously. First all my graphics progs started playing up and not saving or opening any files. So far so normal. The the ftp prog packed it in. Ditto. All of this while I'm on the clock with a 6pm deadline, mind. Then My PC decides files, folders, drives and servers have ceased to be and or denies me access.
So I get onto another PC and there are all the files my PC has sworn blind didn't work, didn't exist, were blank or corrupted. They're all there, working just fine. Weird. So I finish working on the other PC then I have to go back to my PC because I need to ftp them up. I get a glass of water before rebooting yet again and, as a joke, a flick water at the screen and in my best Giles voice demand that the demon be gone. PC boots up and everything is back to normal.
Spooky. My PC is/was possessed by the soul of a tormented and embittered former employee, I'm sure of it.
Spooks I did get to see. Boys in uniform. Hello happiness. It was all about unhappy soldiers, suggestions of mutiny and MOD dirty work. Tom went totally Stockhom Syndrome re the disgruntled squaddies and at the end, after an upsetting and messy ending, poor Tom is told to give up his ideals and his bird. As it looks like business as usual next week, we'll assume these demands were met with a meek: "Yes, Sir."
Poor Tom. Always having to turn the other butt cheek.
Saturday was mostly spent shopping and hanging out in swish cafes as I went back to the charming outdoor mall I'd visited when I went for all those hurty tests. This was a much more pleasant though expensive excursion as I bought a new blouse for work, new shoes (which have weird rubber soles so I pok pok pok across the tiles downstairs like Astroboy) and some cheap tatty bling bling that I won't be upset to lose. I had lovely French toast and bacon and coffee in the very chi chi cafe.
But the main reason I went back by twisty turny bus trip was to digitally preserve and share the wall art from the local video shop. Behold: http://uk.geocities.com/havisham06/images/lotr-art.jpg
Ain't it special? Cracks me up, every time.
The rest of the day was spent weeding and nursing battle injured birds, as not only is it mating season where my normally sane birds all turn L--, ie, lots of idiotic violent macho posturing (did I mention how much I hate the local street gang of L-- boys?) and they attack each other, to the death at times, though just like any school bullies the moment someone bigger hoves into view they pretend they were up to nothing.
So I was feeding my poor busted up victims, and most of 'em survived the night at least. I think, besides the aggro attitudes causing them to fight like loons ("Boy, boy, crazy boy..."), because of all the trees that came down or were chopped down over the last few weeks there's a lot of geopolitical realignment going on. Lots of birds, not a whole lot of trees to sit in.
Sunday: Was spent watching LOTR, The Fellowship and Two Towers, which is pretty much a full day's commitment. Much fun. We wondered if it was coincidence that some scenes strongly resembled paintings from the Wellington gallery? We wondered if that hard to kill Uruk-hai that Aragorn was hacking and slashing at was meant to remind us of The Black Knight?
Bro would also like to see the following scenario on the Antiques Roadshow:
"It apears to be an old gold ring, was it your grandmother's? No markings of any kind, no, wait, there's some writing around the band...my preciousssss...."
Well, I'm still bitter about them ripping off my idea of having Watchers work on the Antiques Roadshow and turning it into the completely hideous Antiques Ghostshow (no there's an hour of my life I'm not getting back).
After that I indulged in a copy of Inventing The Abbotts which I'd found, in keeping with the Liv theme, cause I love the Liv. It also had Joaquin in it, and, yes, dimples boy, very, very very briefly.
People have asked why the sudden Alessandro thing. Well, it's not that sudden. I was very, very taken by Mansfield Park, but that was pre-lj, so you never heard about it. It was Best Laid Plans that really hooked me, though. It was October 2001, I really wasn't well and I had the tv on to take my mind off things. You know when Frodo first sees Arwen and she's all glowly and soft focusy and beautiful, well, it was exactly like that. I suspect I was hallucinating slightly from the pain and my usual overdose of mersyndols and I probably had my glasses off but he was so golden, so luminous, and I watched it twice that night. I was rapt. That's when it started. I never wanted to ruin it by writing JP3 fic but suddenly the muse wouldn't let me be.
Except this week, the muse took a holiday. Just as well. It wasn't until later that I realised that I'd watched LOTR all Father's Day. Dad and I loved the books so much. I can't ever watch it without getting weepy at some point. So I watched it, without even thinking. I just needed to.
Sunday was rounded up by dear dastardly Soames in The Fosythe Saga, redux. I wonder if poor Damian gets into character by ramming something unyielding all the way up his arse. He certainly walks like he has. OK also unkindly described Soames as looking like he was trying to pass a pickle jar whenever he smiled. Bro tittered audibly at one particularly pained grimace. I've never seen a character look so constipated in all my life. Poor Soames. He brings new levels of meaning to the phrases "up tight" and "stuck up".