So not much happened today.
I went to the gym and got my rum, but really that's it.
I got my rent from TBWWBR, making him at last the actual roommate.
I also got my rum.
Yeah, that's the extent of the day.
I did talk to Laura for about 10 minutes, but then she disappeared.
Jay
Saturday, October 05, 2002
Friday, October 04, 2002
Oh yes, kids. Today was the day. I was on the radio.
Doing it was cool -- I was nervous about the actual cueing and crossfading bits, but that was largely alright. I played different stuff... Carter Family, Snow Patrol, Built to Spill, Flaming Lips (by request... more later), Herbie Hancock, Sara Vaughn, and some other new release stuff (Les Hommes, I remember and Japan Versus Casino -- both brand new to me). I mean, I spazzed a bit and was dumb some, but no worse than anybody else their first time trying anything.
It was the same at the new job. The first few nights are always a pain, as you don't know where anything is or how to do anything in the right style. The best you can hope to do is stay out of the way as much as possible (you won't do it completely) while shadowing your trainer like a puppy. I didn't piss anybody off and the only mistake I made was my trainer's fault ("Go give them a desser menu" "But they haven't had their entree...") It'll be good soon. I'll finally have to get around to learning about wine. And man, it's expensive -- $30 a bottle... My trainer made like $100 last night.
Oh yeah.
At this point I must say: Christina, Indie Girl Prime, is my Goddess. Oh yes. Oh yes indeed. She told me months ago to ditch Elmo's and get a formal dining job. Months, I tell you. It's a quarter less work in half the time at twice the pay. She was soo right.
And at this point, I can think of several other reasons why, if I had only listened to her, I'd be happier today. I will write down her every word from this day forward even forever more.
I will build her an altar, made of cute shoes, band t-shirts, red wine, Marlboro Lights and Guided By Voices albums. I shall honor her by watching Ed and The Gilmore Girls. I will wash her car.
Indeedy.
Amusing Flaming Lips story: A dude called in today as I trained, asking for the first cut on their new album. Yoshimi... had just been taken off the (new) playlist and was locked in the office. In 20 seconds I had to pick a track from an old album and cue it up. I got all paranoid and almost forgot to turn it on and as it was playing realized it could be obscene. My trainer and I stood listening. Its subtilte was 'labia.'
Turns out, 'labia' by themselves are not obscene, so we had topay attention that nothing transpired with them that could be construed as obscene. And nothing, thankfully, did. I think.
Yet again I am traumatized by the female anatomy.
But, but, but: the highlight of my day, something I've wanted to do for years, and my promise to y'all:
I PLAYED BELLE AND SEBASTIAN ON THE RADIO.
Oh yeah boys!! I was so happy at the time! For the record, and for no reason I could understand, I played "There's Too Much Love" off of FISHYCLAP. *smiles all all bashful like so you can see his dimples*
After the past few weeks, it was so great to do something like that. I think I'll always remember that.
Next week, I'm thinking I'll sneak in "Lazy Line Painter Jane" (they don't have it there, so I'll bring in mine), Sergio Mendes and Brazil 66 (on vinyl) and some Johnny Cash.
Seriously guys, I love this sooo much. And it's late at night when I'm alive.
Things are looking up for the Boy.
The roommate thing seems to be working out to. He dislikes Dave Matthews (this is a good start) and recognizes Belle and Sebastian and Dr Who (this is even better). He seems to be very smart and funny.
I ain't gonna get anywhere, so I think I'm going to try to set him and Christina up.
Yeah, it's time to turnabout the set up deal.
Thing going well today, I decided to watch one of my favourite Doctor Whos...
Dr Who of the Day: Image of the Fendahl. It's great. It's one of the one that works because everyone is so committed to the insanity. There's some great visuals... the skull glowing over Thea Ransome's face (creepy) the dark woods. Great dialogue... to cows, the Doctor "Do you ladies no anything about a time scanner?" Ted Moss: "'Ave you 'scaped from somewheres?" the Doctor: "Oh many times..."
And yes, jelly babies were offered.
The direction is fab... it's moody and scary and real, like an H P Lovecraft novel meets a Hammer Movie.
Word of the Day: eldritch. It's definitely a Lovecraft word, like Cyclopean. It means dark and creepy. Sinister in the not-good way. Spookily, the dictionary says it's Scottish, but can't give any derivation other than "it could be related to elf..."
Lovecraft seems about. I've thought diseperately of several of his stories lately, he's a source of The Taking of Planet Five, he's an influence on Image of the Fendahl, and Matt (TBWWBR) picked up one of his anthologies I have -- out of all my books -- and started to read it.
Synchronicity, anyone?
Still finishing up Pickwick Papers.
Laura Llew rocks today because: Hmmm. I've spent so much time detailing why I rock that this is kinda hard. Let's say... Rants and Raves. In the absence of real-time Llewunacy (dontcha like that better'n Llewage?), I read some of them yonder from petullant. It was a quick fix, though I now blame her for Cupid's abandonment of me.
[Remember, god(s) see(s) everything at once since they exist out of time, so he saw her abusing him and us getting hitched at the same instant]
Don't blame me for the philosophy/metaphysics. That's apparently how god works. Saint Augustine said so. Though he couldn't account for the Fall of Man thereby.
Catch you later, Gentle Reader...
Doing it was cool -- I was nervous about the actual cueing and crossfading bits, but that was largely alright. I played different stuff... Carter Family, Snow Patrol, Built to Spill, Flaming Lips (by request... more later), Herbie Hancock, Sara Vaughn, and some other new release stuff (Les Hommes, I remember and Japan Versus Casino -- both brand new to me). I mean, I spazzed a bit and was dumb some, but no worse than anybody else their first time trying anything.
It was the same at the new job. The first few nights are always a pain, as you don't know where anything is or how to do anything in the right style. The best you can hope to do is stay out of the way as much as possible (you won't do it completely) while shadowing your trainer like a puppy. I didn't piss anybody off and the only mistake I made was my trainer's fault ("Go give them a desser menu" "But they haven't had their entree...") It'll be good soon. I'll finally have to get around to learning about wine. And man, it's expensive -- $30 a bottle... My trainer made like $100 last night.
Oh yeah.
At this point I must say: Christina, Indie Girl Prime, is my Goddess. Oh yes. Oh yes indeed. She told me months ago to ditch Elmo's and get a formal dining job. Months, I tell you. It's a quarter less work in half the time at twice the pay. She was soo right.
And at this point, I can think of several other reasons why, if I had only listened to her, I'd be happier today. I will write down her every word from this day forward even forever more.
I will build her an altar, made of cute shoes, band t-shirts, red wine, Marlboro Lights and Guided By Voices albums. I shall honor her by watching Ed and The Gilmore Girls. I will wash her car.
Indeedy.
Amusing Flaming Lips story: A dude called in today as I trained, asking for the first cut on their new album. Yoshimi... had just been taken off the (new) playlist and was locked in the office. In 20 seconds I had to pick a track from an old album and cue it up. I got all paranoid and almost forgot to turn it on and as it was playing realized it could be obscene. My trainer and I stood listening. Its subtilte was 'labia.'
Turns out, 'labia' by themselves are not obscene, so we had topay attention that nothing transpired with them that could be construed as obscene. And nothing, thankfully, did. I think.
Yet again I am traumatized by the female anatomy.
But, but, but: the highlight of my day, something I've wanted to do for years, and my promise to y'all:
I PLAYED BELLE AND SEBASTIAN ON THE RADIO.
Oh yeah boys!! I was so happy at the time! For the record, and for no reason I could understand, I played "There's Too Much Love" off of FISHYCLAP. *smiles all all bashful like so you can see his dimples*
After the past few weeks, it was so great to do something like that. I think I'll always remember that.
Next week, I'm thinking I'll sneak in "Lazy Line Painter Jane" (they don't have it there, so I'll bring in mine), Sergio Mendes and Brazil 66 (on vinyl) and some Johnny Cash.
Seriously guys, I love this sooo much. And it's late at night when I'm alive.
Things are looking up for the Boy.
The roommate thing seems to be working out to. He dislikes Dave Matthews (this is a good start) and recognizes Belle and Sebastian and Dr Who (this is even better). He seems to be very smart and funny.
I ain't gonna get anywhere, so I think I'm going to try to set him and Christina up.
Yeah, it's time to turnabout the set up deal.
Thing going well today, I decided to watch one of my favourite Doctor Whos...
Dr Who of the Day: Image of the Fendahl. It's great. It's one of the one that works because everyone is so committed to the insanity. There's some great visuals... the skull glowing over Thea Ransome's face (creepy) the dark woods. Great dialogue... to cows, the Doctor "Do you ladies no anything about a time scanner?" Ted Moss: "'Ave you 'scaped from somewheres?" the Doctor: "Oh many times..."
And yes, jelly babies were offered.
The direction is fab... it's moody and scary and real, like an H P Lovecraft novel meets a Hammer Movie.
Word of the Day: eldritch. It's definitely a Lovecraft word, like Cyclopean. It means dark and creepy. Sinister in the not-good way. Spookily, the dictionary says it's Scottish, but can't give any derivation other than "it could be related to elf..."
Lovecraft seems about. I've thought diseperately of several of his stories lately, he's a source of The Taking of Planet Five, he's an influence on Image of the Fendahl, and Matt (TBWWBR) picked up one of his anthologies I have -- out of all my books -- and started to read it.
Synchronicity, anyone?
Still finishing up Pickwick Papers.
Laura Llew rocks today because: Hmmm. I've spent so much time detailing why I rock that this is kinda hard. Let's say... Rants and Raves. In the absence of real-time Llewunacy (dontcha like that better'n Llewage?), I read some of them yonder from petullant. It was a quick fix, though I now blame her for Cupid's abandonment of me.
[Remember, god(s) see(s) everything at once since they exist out of time, so he saw her abusing him and us getting hitched at the same instant]
Don't blame me for the philosophy/metaphysics. That's apparently how god works. Saint Augustine said so. Though he couldn't account for the Fall of Man thereby.
Catch you later, Gentle Reader...
Thursday, October 03, 2002
Hmmm... I've not gone long here. Hospitality = brevity right now.
So then, in breif... (ever notice how in Shakespeare that all equals a big speech? no, really, it does...)
I started my new job at a posh new French restaurant tonight.
To be short, I now work in an old repeat of 'Allo, 'Allo. (Cept instead of the Gerry we got a Russian, but still, it feels the same).
I do my on-training tomorrow, from noon to two. Listen in at www.wxdu.org. There's even a web cam, so if you catch this in time you can see me as I foul up... Belle and Sebastian will be played, I promise. It's all I promise, though.
My cash flow has dried up again... Donations, anyone? *clinks can*
TBWWBR (see below for full name) is indeed arrived and is crashing even now 'pon the Mysteriously Comfy Couch. So, sshh!
That goes for me and all...
'Night Emo Glasses Boy
So then, in breif... (ever notice how in Shakespeare that all equals a big speech? no, really, it does...)
I started my new job at a posh new French restaurant tonight.
To be short, I now work in an old repeat of 'Allo, 'Allo. (Cept instead of the Gerry we got a Russian, but still, it feels the same).
I do my on-training tomorrow, from noon to two. Listen in at www.wxdu.org. There's even a web cam, so if you catch this in time you can see me as I foul up... Belle and Sebastian will be played, I promise. It's all I promise, though.
My cash flow has dried up again... Donations, anyone? *clinks can*
TBWWBR (see below for full name) is indeed arrived and is crashing even now 'pon the Mysteriously Comfy Couch. So, sshh!
That goes for me and all...
'Night Emo Glasses Boy
Wednesday, October 02, 2002
Yeah, so you lot should be sooo shocked to see an am post.
I finally went to sleep at 5 or 5.30. Right at 10, The Boy Who Would Be Roommate called and said he'd be right over with his money.
I've been here long enough to check all my email, check several blogs and visit my friendtest (here).
It's been an hour dammit.
I'm pissed.*
I'm going back to sleep for a few hours. God help that boy if he wakes me up again.
*I am always, always cranky when I am woken up in the morning. Even more so when done needlessly.
I finally went to sleep at 5 or 5.30. Right at 10, The Boy Who Would Be Roommate called and said he'd be right over with his money.
I've been here long enough to check all my email, check several blogs and visit my friendtest (here).
It's been an hour dammit.
I'm pissed.*
I'm going back to sleep for a few hours. God help that boy if he wakes me up again.
*I am always, always cranky when I am woken up in the morning. Even more so when done needlessly.
Yeah, so, I just read some dude's blog where he told the story of almost mistaking another guy for his boyfriend and almost groping him. And several other people chimed in with similar stories.
I thought about copping the story and putting it here.
Ha, ha.
There are of course several problems. A) I would never grope anyone, at least in public B) I'd never be that slow and C) the biggest one here: I'd never have a boyfriend.
You may not guess it, but I have this utterly Victorian puritannical streak. Maybe it's just the dozens of generations of English blood in my veins, but I can be a real freak about etiquette and form. There are times when I find The Age of Innocence racy.
(By changing the subject, do I seem not seething with jeaulousy? I do this all the time in conversation. For all my faults, I do know my weaknesses.)
I went in for DJ training today. I did... okay. I need practice with the technical stuff, but the spoken stuff is okay. Thursday is on air training day, should you want to listen to me (I don't get to speak, though). You can listen in at www.wxdu.org.
I actually made it to Duke's campus without getting lost. I even got there early enough to nose around campus for a bit. It was very reminiscient of Carolina, really. It was definitely designed with us in mind, though on a larger scale. Guess it'd have to be to compensate, really...
I even get a Duke Card (cost = $4) which I find exciting for some reason.
I'm so gonna play Belle and Sebastian.
I start the sketch job tomorrow...
The Boy Who Would Be Roommate of course didn't show. I'm panicing as we speak. Sod. So sod it.
The moon was gorgeous tonight.
Made me feel quite alone.
Sorry... gotta go seethe and stew.
I always start out with so much to say, but then get all blue...
I thought about copping the story and putting it here.
Ha, ha.
There are of course several problems. A) I would never grope anyone, at least in public B) I'd never be that slow and C) the biggest one here: I'd never have a boyfriend.
You may not guess it, but I have this utterly Victorian puritannical streak. Maybe it's just the dozens of generations of English blood in my veins, but I can be a real freak about etiquette and form. There are times when I find The Age of Innocence racy.
(By changing the subject, do I seem not seething with jeaulousy? I do this all the time in conversation. For all my faults, I do know my weaknesses.)
I went in for DJ training today. I did... okay. I need practice with the technical stuff, but the spoken stuff is okay. Thursday is on air training day, should you want to listen to me (I don't get to speak, though). You can listen in at www.wxdu.org.
I actually made it to Duke's campus without getting lost. I even got there early enough to nose around campus for a bit. It was very reminiscient of Carolina, really. It was definitely designed with us in mind, though on a larger scale. Guess it'd have to be to compensate, really...
I even get a Duke Card (cost = $4) which I find exciting for some reason.
I'm so gonna play Belle and Sebastian.
I start the sketch job tomorrow...
The Boy Who Would Be Roommate of course didn't show. I'm panicing as we speak. Sod. So sod it.
The moon was gorgeous tonight.
Made me feel quite alone.
Sorry... gotta go seethe and stew.
I always start out with so much to say, but then get all blue...
Tuesday, October 01, 2002
Hey! Go visit my test at Ten Things I Hate About Jay!
Another hint: I am not like a model, but I have drooled after one.
Another hint: I am not like a model, but I have drooled after one.
Hmm... I just found a blog named after a Belle and Sebastian song (it's called 'The Memory Girl' and is from a line in 'Sleep the Clock Around.') Oddly, this girl is not a Sinister person -- like I'm the banner Sinisterite -- nor does she appear to know any. No links to them, nor to anyone else who does...
Like I can talk, I've only got Laura's link. And it's down at the bottom where nobody sees. I need more links, and I need to move them up to yonder on the left.
What I really want is that comment thingy. I need to look into that.
I had a sort of busy day. I finally got in touch with The Boy Who Would Be Roommate and he swears he'll be here tomorrow. He tried to get me to take a two-party check, but that ain't happening, no sir. I'm becoming increasingly cynical and I expect I'll be linking this post with one in the future saying "vie, vie, victus." My blinding hope is he'll be easier to track when he lives here. But, as Mister Marlowe says, "Needs must when the devil drives."*
I also got a second interview at the grocery store. Whee.
I also got a job. A full-time job. Apparently. I say 'apparently' because the whole thing seems sketchier than Leonardo's notebooks.** Ask me my schedule... Dunno. Ask me how much I get paid... Dunno. It's a new French place called "Provence" that is sorta posh. A French couple (I assume they're a couple) runs it. I came into to fill out an application and when I turned it in the lady asked me if I could work tomorrow. I was so surprised I said yes. I have dj training tomorrow that I've already had to reschedule once. I tried to call, but couldn't find the number so I went back and explained. Madme Anne blinked a time or two and then told me to show up Wednesday. Sketch, sketch, sketch!
(It is a new place, very new apparently, but still... I've been up that painful trail.) But every place is new once. The owner is also apparently an award-winning chef so I can nose around him and learn some more. The staff also is young -- a bit younger than me -- so that's good. People who work in restaurants, if you're not one, gang together frequently, especially if they're close in age. It's a sort of a trench reaction: waiting is very much an "us or them" scenario that leads to bodning.
Yep. In one day, I get a roommate and a job and I'm already preparing for it to go wrong. Jeez.
I got to go The Gap (ha ha! I said The Gap instead of the corporately correct Gap! See my evil! Fear me!) this evening to get black pants for said new job. They were $40!! Jesus God!
It's the first time I've been to The Gap in months. (The last thing I bought was a white tank top, and before that I did get a keen sports jackety thing.) I used to work there till I couldn't take it anymore and quit. (On Christmas Eve, which makes sense if you've worked retail -- I just couldn't take Returns Week one more time...) It was creepy and weird. I felt like I was under attack from the Great Machine. I scampered out as quickly as possible with my ludicrously expensive work khakis. I only went to The Gap cause I have a Gap Credit Card (I know, I know, I'm going to hell...) and no damn money.
The only temptation in the entire mall was to go to Abercrombie and Fitch and get their catalogue, the A&F Quarterly. Mmmm. I didn't give in. I also went to the Barnes and Noble. I do not buy books in huge chains, so I can go to them and browse without worry. Still no new Dr Who books. I want The Crying of Lot 49 and The Perks of Being a Wallflower, though.
I'm not complaining... I have two keen new books I'm just about to start.
I also made shortbread cookies today. I've never made them before. They're tasty and literally -- never had it literally happen before -- melt in your mouth. Oh yeah, baby, I can cook.
I also played dress up today for a while, sort of saying good bye to my summer stuff: I put on my Seersucker suit, complete with linen shirt, blue silk tie and and straw panama. Yeah. I can't wait for a) a wedding in south Louisiana in summer, b) being elected Senator or acheiving the rank of Colonel or c) turning 65. These are the only ways to successfully wear Seersucker. There was an old dude at Elmo's who always wore it on Sundays in the Summer, and he was a white pimp.
I also tried on my skins: the Suede pants and the leather pants. Soo close to time to wear them. The suede ones are soooooo cool. I love suede. And I look good in it.
And they both show off my cute little bum.
Oh yes. It's true. It's all the cardio.
I shake it now for you.
I finished The Taking of Planet 5 today. I don't know why it makes me feel so productive to finish a book, but it does.
Dr Who of the Day: "Nothing can stop the catharsis of spurious morality!!!!" This quote explains everything, really. I watched the first part of The Ultimate Enemy today. I mentioned this earlier. The writer died in the middle of writing it and never made a full draft or plotting on the rest, so they had to get a new writer for the second part. The show's script editor also quit after a fight with the producer. And the actor who played the Doctor quit in the middle. The result is a marvellously confusing mess that can only be called a clusterfuck.
It does, however, have Geoffrey Hughes as one of the guest stars. Indeedy, it's Onslow from Keeping Up Appearances as a Dickensian clerk.
This leads to...
Word of the Day: catharsis. When you sympathize with a character and suffer with him as you watch and then react to his justified fate, that's catharsis. Hunh? Umm... It's getting rid of bad thoughts through drama. Like when you feel good that most of the cast of Hamlet snuffs it at the end. If you get rid of your vengeance at the theatre, you're less likely to hack somebody to bits in the street.
At least that's the theory.
Llew rocks today because: She's a frontier woman. Presumably. She enjoys camping, for some reason. I prefer rustication to camping. Old country granges and such, and meals al fresco. You know, when the Victorians took their entire dining room suite outside. That's how to live outside. Canvas belongs as a table cloth, not as a wall.
Odd really, after all my colonial/frontier knowledge that I should mock it. I can make fore with flint and steel, you know.
I think I'm perking up.
* Act IV, Dr Faustus.
** Yeah, I know. It's nerdy as hell. But I still want a copy of them. They're available from Dover (House of Swell Stuff) Publishing.
Like I can talk, I've only got Laura's link. And it's down at the bottom where nobody sees. I need more links, and I need to move them up to yonder on the left.
What I really want is that comment thingy. I need to look into that.
I had a sort of busy day. I finally got in touch with The Boy Who Would Be Roommate and he swears he'll be here tomorrow. He tried to get me to take a two-party check, but that ain't happening, no sir. I'm becoming increasingly cynical and I expect I'll be linking this post with one in the future saying "vie, vie, victus." My blinding hope is he'll be easier to track when he lives here. But, as Mister Marlowe says, "Needs must when the devil drives."*
I also got a second interview at the grocery store. Whee.
I also got a job. A full-time job. Apparently. I say 'apparently' because the whole thing seems sketchier than Leonardo's notebooks.** Ask me my schedule... Dunno. Ask me how much I get paid... Dunno. It's a new French place called "Provence" that is sorta posh. A French couple (I assume they're a couple) runs it. I came into to fill out an application and when I turned it in the lady asked me if I could work tomorrow. I was so surprised I said yes. I have dj training tomorrow that I've already had to reschedule once. I tried to call, but couldn't find the number so I went back and explained. Madme Anne blinked a time or two and then told me to show up Wednesday. Sketch, sketch, sketch!
(It is a new place, very new apparently, but still... I've been up that painful trail.) But every place is new once. The owner is also apparently an award-winning chef so I can nose around him and learn some more. The staff also is young -- a bit younger than me -- so that's good. People who work in restaurants, if you're not one, gang together frequently, especially if they're close in age. It's a sort of a trench reaction: waiting is very much an "us or them" scenario that leads to bodning.
Yep. In one day, I get a roommate and a job and I'm already preparing for it to go wrong. Jeez.
I got to go The Gap (ha ha! I said The Gap instead of the corporately correct Gap! See my evil! Fear me!) this evening to get black pants for said new job. They were $40!! Jesus God!
It's the first time I've been to The Gap in months. (The last thing I bought was a white tank top, and before that I did get a keen sports jackety thing.) I used to work there till I couldn't take it anymore and quit. (On Christmas Eve, which makes sense if you've worked retail -- I just couldn't take Returns Week one more time...) It was creepy and weird. I felt like I was under attack from the Great Machine. I scampered out as quickly as possible with my ludicrously expensive work khakis. I only went to The Gap cause I have a Gap Credit Card (I know, I know, I'm going to hell...) and no damn money.
The only temptation in the entire mall was to go to Abercrombie and Fitch and get their catalogue, the A&F Quarterly. Mmmm. I didn't give in. I also went to the Barnes and Noble. I do not buy books in huge chains, so I can go to them and browse without worry. Still no new Dr Who books. I want The Crying of Lot 49 and The Perks of Being a Wallflower, though.
I'm not complaining... I have two keen new books I'm just about to start.
I also made shortbread cookies today. I've never made them before. They're tasty and literally -- never had it literally happen before -- melt in your mouth. Oh yeah, baby, I can cook.
I also played dress up today for a while, sort of saying good bye to my summer stuff: I put on my Seersucker suit, complete with linen shirt, blue silk tie and and straw panama. Yeah. I can't wait for a) a wedding in south Louisiana in summer, b) being elected Senator or acheiving the rank of Colonel or c) turning 65. These are the only ways to successfully wear Seersucker. There was an old dude at Elmo's who always wore it on Sundays in the Summer, and he was a white pimp.
I also tried on my skins: the Suede pants and the leather pants. Soo close to time to wear them. The suede ones are soooooo cool. I love suede. And I look good in it.
And they both show off my cute little bum.
Oh yes. It's true. It's all the cardio.
I shake it now for you.
I finished The Taking of Planet 5 today. I don't know why it makes me feel so productive to finish a book, but it does.
Dr Who of the Day: "Nothing can stop the catharsis of spurious morality!!!!" This quote explains everything, really. I watched the first part of The Ultimate Enemy today. I mentioned this earlier. The writer died in the middle of writing it and never made a full draft or plotting on the rest, so they had to get a new writer for the second part. The show's script editor also quit after a fight with the producer. And the actor who played the Doctor quit in the middle. The result is a marvellously confusing mess that can only be called a clusterfuck.
It does, however, have Geoffrey Hughes as one of the guest stars. Indeedy, it's Onslow from Keeping Up Appearances as a Dickensian clerk.
This leads to...
Word of the Day: catharsis. When you sympathize with a character and suffer with him as you watch and then react to his justified fate, that's catharsis. Hunh? Umm... It's getting rid of bad thoughts through drama. Like when you feel good that most of the cast of Hamlet snuffs it at the end. If you get rid of your vengeance at the theatre, you're less likely to hack somebody to bits in the street.
At least that's the theory.
Llew rocks today because: She's a frontier woman. Presumably. She enjoys camping, for some reason. I prefer rustication to camping. Old country granges and such, and meals al fresco. You know, when the Victorians took their entire dining room suite outside. That's how to live outside. Canvas belongs as a table cloth, not as a wall.
Odd really, after all my colonial/frontier knowledge that I should mock it. I can make fore with flint and steel, you know.
I think I'm perking up.
* Act IV, Dr Faustus.
** Yeah, I know. It's nerdy as hell. But I still want a copy of them. They're available from Dover (House of Swell Stuff) Publishing.
Monday, September 30, 2002
Oh yes: Go visit my friend test,
Ten Things I Hate About Jay.
A hint: Dave Matthews sucks. I really dislike him and his music, though far be it from me to say his popularity is unearned.
Ten Things I Hate About Jay.
A hint: Dave Matthews sucks. I really dislike him and his music, though far be it from me to say his popularity is unearned.
I've wasted quite a bit of time this weekend watching movies. Two of my very favourites were on, The Lion in Winter and Paper Moon. I also watched The Matrix. I don't think a lot of that film, but then again the old ultraviolence was never my scene. No Indiepunk Riotqueer I. Like I even had to say that...
Have you seen The Lion in Winter? It's fab. It won the 1968 Oscar for Best Screenplay. Practically every line is worth memorizing. And it's historical. It starred Peter O'Toole, Katharine Hepburn, Anthony Hopkin and Tomithy Dalton. The film version is gorgeous with location shots, and the production generally is sumptuous. I directed a production once. I had a girl as Henry II and Richard the Couer de Lion. And Phillip of France, for that matter. It was good, but not great.
I've also managed to watch about three episodes of Globe Trekker, a travel show on PBS. They went to China and Uzbekistan. I still want to be anywhere else right now. Even somewhere outof the way and exotic with poor plumbing, like, say, Uzbekistan. They went to Samarkand, Tashkent and Buqara. I was quite smug to say I knew all of them: Samarkand was on the Silk Road (actually, I expect all three were) and was a major trade center. And capital of something, though I couldn't say what. Ping Cho was going there in Marco Polo. Buqara was a religious center destroyed by Genghis Khan. Tashkent was destroyed by and Earthquake in the 60s a rebuilt a Soviet showpiece.
They seem all go to build up these Asian towns. I should like to meet somebody from there abouts.
I did meet somebody from Bulgaria last week, the woman who interviewed me for my grocery store job. Her name was a sort of unpronouncable smash of Baltic consonants.
I think it's fascinating to hear people speak a language you don't know.
I also want a Khirgiz nomad hat. (I might also try a sheep's eye...)
I'm still reading The Taking of Planet Five, and I expect I'll finish it tonight. This means I didn't watch any Dr Who.
Word of the day... for yesterday, it was Bannock, an old word for pancake.
for today, clerihew, a kind of quatrain, humorous, biographical poem:
Harry Houdini Sir Christopher Wren
never escape a bikini said 'I'm going to dine with some men."
He was afraid that the gizmo If anyone calls,
would spoil his machismo. say I'm designing St Paul's.
Reason Llew rocks: World travellers always rock. Yep, the girl's gone again.
Have you seen The Lion in Winter? It's fab. It won the 1968 Oscar for Best Screenplay. Practically every line is worth memorizing. And it's historical. It starred Peter O'Toole, Katharine Hepburn, Anthony Hopkin and Tomithy Dalton. The film version is gorgeous with location shots, and the production generally is sumptuous. I directed a production once. I had a girl as Henry II and Richard the Couer de Lion. And Phillip of France, for that matter. It was good, but not great.
I've also managed to watch about three episodes of Globe Trekker, a travel show on PBS. They went to China and Uzbekistan. I still want to be anywhere else right now. Even somewhere outof the way and exotic with poor plumbing, like, say, Uzbekistan. They went to Samarkand, Tashkent and Buqara. I was quite smug to say I knew all of them: Samarkand was on the Silk Road (actually, I expect all three were) and was a major trade center. And capital of something, though I couldn't say what. Ping Cho was going there in Marco Polo. Buqara was a religious center destroyed by Genghis Khan. Tashkent was destroyed by and Earthquake in the 60s a rebuilt a Soviet showpiece.
They seem all go to build up these Asian towns. I should like to meet somebody from there abouts.
I did meet somebody from Bulgaria last week, the woman who interviewed me for my grocery store job. Her name was a sort of unpronouncable smash of Baltic consonants.
I think it's fascinating to hear people speak a language you don't know.
I also want a Khirgiz nomad hat. (I might also try a sheep's eye...)
I'm still reading The Taking of Planet Five, and I expect I'll finish it tonight. This means I didn't watch any Dr Who.
Word of the day... for yesterday, it was Bannock, an old word for pancake.
for today, clerihew, a kind of quatrain, humorous, biographical poem:
Harry Houdini Sir Christopher Wren
never escape a bikini said 'I'm going to dine with some men."
He was afraid that the gizmo If anyone calls,
would spoil his machismo. say I'm designing St Paul's.
Reason Llew rocks: World travellers always rock. Yep, the girl's gone again.
Sunday, September 29, 2002
Hey! I've finally found an excuse to watch Real World marathons on MTV (and believe me, I've been looking for any justification to the pointless hours wasted doing that).
As of right now, I'm just keeping an eye out for the MTV news reporter, Gideon Yago. *growls*
Have you seen this guy? He's very firmly in the category I must call BWG. That's Boys With Glasses. (See emo glasses boy below, Duncan Sheik, Neil the Recordshop Boy and a certain ramdom person.)
And he's a smart-ass. He can't keep a straight face on his news show, The Wrap.
The weekends make me so bored and lonely, since I can't actively look for work. I sit around all day by myself. I realized a little while ago I hadn't actually spoken to anyone since Thursday.
I remembered today that I hadn't had pancakes in forever. I had some mix, so I made it up and as they were cooking, I remembered I can't make pancakes well. They weren't awful, but they weren't great. I can make crepes really well, but the thicker American ones I mess up: I make the batter too thin and put too much in the pan cause I think I'm making crepes. They come out very brown, almost burnt on one side. I didn't have any syrup, so I used honey, and it was quite good.
I read a few chapters of the Dr. Who book, The Taking of Planet Five.
I listened to the song Slow Graffiti today. I mean, really listened to it. It's there at the end of the Modern Rock Song EP and I've heard it before, but I suppose I never really took it in till today.
I organizes my vinyl today, in chronological order... I've got some nice stuff, original Simon and Garfunkle and Mamas and Poppas. Paul Simon, Jim Croce, the Eagles. I've also got some vintage Sergio Mendes and Brazil 66. Also, for that matter, a Smurfs album. That was my favorite 20 years ago,
I think the idea here between cooking and cleaning and organizing is the Robinson Crusoe effect. If I keep myself involved with little pointless tasks, I'll not notice as I go crazy.
This could also explain the lengthy daily blogs...
I can't remember the last time I cried. (Besides the odd tear at a sappy movie like Life As A House, which I think was the last.) But I get the feeling now that if I started, it might take a while. Much to mourn, no cause to rejoice...
Despair was -- still is, I reckon, for the papists -- a mortal sin. They get their own part of the Inferno (along with the wrathful). It signified a lack of trust in god and his judgement and ability ("What, you don't think god knows what he's doing?!")
Like I really need to start a checklist of places in the Inferno I deserve...
And I really don't have anything else to say...
As of right now, I'm just keeping an eye out for the MTV news reporter, Gideon Yago. *growls*
Have you seen this guy? He's very firmly in the category I must call BWG. That's Boys With Glasses. (See emo glasses boy below, Duncan Sheik, Neil the Recordshop Boy and a certain ramdom person.)
And he's a smart-ass. He can't keep a straight face on his news show, The Wrap.
The weekends make me so bored and lonely, since I can't actively look for work. I sit around all day by myself. I realized a little while ago I hadn't actually spoken to anyone since Thursday.
I remembered today that I hadn't had pancakes in forever. I had some mix, so I made it up and as they were cooking, I remembered I can't make pancakes well. They weren't awful, but they weren't great. I can make crepes really well, but the thicker American ones I mess up: I make the batter too thin and put too much in the pan cause I think I'm making crepes. They come out very brown, almost burnt on one side. I didn't have any syrup, so I used honey, and it was quite good.
I read a few chapters of the Dr. Who book, The Taking of Planet Five.
I listened to the song Slow Graffiti today. I mean, really listened to it. It's there at the end of the Modern Rock Song EP and I've heard it before, but I suppose I never really took it in till today.
I organizes my vinyl today, in chronological order... I've got some nice stuff, original Simon and Garfunkle and Mamas and Poppas. Paul Simon, Jim Croce, the Eagles. I've also got some vintage Sergio Mendes and Brazil 66. Also, for that matter, a Smurfs album. That was my favorite 20 years ago,
I think the idea here between cooking and cleaning and organizing is the Robinson Crusoe effect. If I keep myself involved with little pointless tasks, I'll not notice as I go crazy.
This could also explain the lengthy daily blogs...
I can't remember the last time I cried. (Besides the odd tear at a sappy movie like Life As A House, which I think was the last.) But I get the feeling now that if I started, it might take a while. Much to mourn, no cause to rejoice...
Despair was -- still is, I reckon, for the papists -- a mortal sin. They get their own part of the Inferno (along with the wrathful). It signified a lack of trust in god and his judgement and ability ("What, you don't think god knows what he's doing?!")
Like I really need to start a checklist of places in the Inferno I deserve...
And I really don't have anything else to say...
Saturday, September 28, 2002
Hello, Gentle Reader.
I've had a lot of rum tonight. A pint, in fact. Oh yes, I'll pay for it, eventually. I'll sleep but little tonight. The sauce makes me pass out for two or three hours and then keeps me up for hours on end. I've heard that as the liver metabolizes alcohol, it produces a stimulant. I don't doubt it.
And this excludes the hangover. But it's not like I've got aught to do tomorrow.
I've not heard from The Boy Who Would Be Roommate tonight. I'm not surprised.
The high point of today was my swell package.
Umm... Not quite what I meant (though my own is not bad). Ms Llew's Package arrived today. Yay, yay, yay!
She sent me: Two books, Nalda Said, by ex-Belle and Sebastian bassist Stuart David (I've read 20 pages and am already in love) and The Wide Window, the next book in A Series of Unfortunate Events.
I've never said word one about the The Wide Window, but I've severely desired it. This only goes to show Ms Llew's utter perfection. (How I would marry her in reality if only things were differerent...)
She also sent a Lemony Snicket pad and some temporary tattoos. I've been seriously considering a new real tattoo, and I'd quite like to get the stylized eye on my arm. It's almost like one of those daft tribal sticky-ones, but it is cool. When I get money...
Also included were the two Sinister mix tapes. Well, CDs. How careful must I be in speaking of these! Sir Declan has spoken quite ill of Laura when she misspoke on these discs.
Which is odd, because Declan's is quite very good. I really liked it. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't knock it.
Michelle (who, as I understand, loves Robert Smith) also makes a good CD. I even said as much in private correspondance to Llew. I quite like MoonDance and The Time of the Season, which she put in. I'm still trying to decide the appropriate mark to leave in her booklet.
Michelle's is about Lost Love, which sent me into many reminiscences. It was quite odd, I thought about people I'd not thought about for a long time. It also made me think of a boy in particular who may have been very fond of me but who I never thought of that way. And we spent quite a lot of time together. We were quite inseperable. And we worked so very well together...
How foolish that was. I wish I could go back and change that.
But I can't. I'm not too mushy about it, as I know he's happy now. (Really, what does it take to get over me?) And that makes me feel better.
I cleaned the hovel today very, very well.
How I'd love to be anywhere else but here. Have you seen Sabrina, when she says that people should be in Paris when it rains? I've been in Paris when it rains, and I would love to be there again. I got lost in the Quartier Latin and got a Coca Lite and a napoleon in a little patisserie.
Everywhere I go, I get lost. I got lost in North London last time I was there. I wandered the streets of Camden Town, Belsize Park and Chalk Farm at 2 in the morning. I was cold and alone, then, but how'd love to be there again.
The last place I went was Easley, SC. No matter lovely that town was, it's time to go somewhere else. I'd love to go to DC or NY. Or even back to Manteo. Just somewhere away from here and all my troubles...
I dreamt last night I got an email from my friend Darren, inviting me to apologize. I wanted to, indeed. But I recongized it was a dream and I really couldn't.
I still would, though. Because, well, because I would. He deserves it. And I'm scum.
I spent quite a lot of time playing guitar today, "Judy and the Dream of Horses", "Roller Coaster", "She's Losing It" and "This Is Just A Modern Rock Song."
I'm still quite lonely. And afraid. And alone.
Word of the day: negus: a punch drink, named after the English navy officer who created it, made of port wine, water, sugar, lemon, and spice. It's mentioned in The Pickwick Papers.
Which I am still reading. Number XVIII, chap. LII.
I didn't watch Dr Who today.
Ms Llew rocks today because: I said it before -- she's great. She's just not great; she's psyically great. Indeedy.
I've had a lot of rum tonight. A pint, in fact. Oh yes, I'll pay for it, eventually. I'll sleep but little tonight. The sauce makes me pass out for two or three hours and then keeps me up for hours on end. I've heard that as the liver metabolizes alcohol, it produces a stimulant. I don't doubt it.
And this excludes the hangover. But it's not like I've got aught to do tomorrow.
I've not heard from The Boy Who Would Be Roommate tonight. I'm not surprised.
The high point of today was my swell package.
Umm... Not quite what I meant (though my own is not bad). Ms Llew's Package arrived today. Yay, yay, yay!
She sent me: Two books, Nalda Said, by ex-Belle and Sebastian bassist Stuart David (I've read 20 pages and am already in love) and The Wide Window, the next book in A Series of Unfortunate Events.
I've never said word one about the The Wide Window, but I've severely desired it. This only goes to show Ms Llew's utter perfection. (How I would marry her in reality if only things were differerent...)
She also sent a Lemony Snicket pad and some temporary tattoos. I've been seriously considering a new real tattoo, and I'd quite like to get the stylized eye on my arm. It's almost like one of those daft tribal sticky-ones, but it is cool. When I get money...
Also included were the two Sinister mix tapes. Well, CDs. How careful must I be in speaking of these! Sir Declan has spoken quite ill of Laura when she misspoke on these discs.
Which is odd, because Declan's is quite very good. I really liked it. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't knock it.
Michelle (who, as I understand, loves Robert Smith) also makes a good CD. I even said as much in private correspondance to Llew. I quite like MoonDance and The Time of the Season, which she put in. I'm still trying to decide the appropriate mark to leave in her booklet.
Michelle's is about Lost Love, which sent me into many reminiscences. It was quite odd, I thought about people I'd not thought about for a long time. It also made me think of a boy in particular who may have been very fond of me but who I never thought of that way. And we spent quite a lot of time together. We were quite inseperable. And we worked so very well together...
How foolish that was. I wish I could go back and change that.
But I can't. I'm not too mushy about it, as I know he's happy now. (Really, what does it take to get over me?) And that makes me feel better.
I cleaned the hovel today very, very well.
How I'd love to be anywhere else but here. Have you seen Sabrina, when she says that people should be in Paris when it rains? I've been in Paris when it rains, and I would love to be there again. I got lost in the Quartier Latin and got a Coca Lite and a napoleon in a little patisserie.
Everywhere I go, I get lost. I got lost in North London last time I was there. I wandered the streets of Camden Town, Belsize Park and Chalk Farm at 2 in the morning. I was cold and alone, then, but how'd love to be there again.
The last place I went was Easley, SC. No matter lovely that town was, it's time to go somewhere else. I'd love to go to DC or NY. Or even back to Manteo. Just somewhere away from here and all my troubles...
I dreamt last night I got an email from my friend Darren, inviting me to apologize. I wanted to, indeed. But I recongized it was a dream and I really couldn't.
I still would, though. Because, well, because I would. He deserves it. And I'm scum.
I spent quite a lot of time playing guitar today, "Judy and the Dream of Horses", "Roller Coaster", "She's Losing It" and "This Is Just A Modern Rock Song."
I'm still quite lonely. And afraid. And alone.
Word of the day: negus: a punch drink, named after the English navy officer who created it, made of port wine, water, sugar, lemon, and spice. It's mentioned in The Pickwick Papers.
Which I am still reading. Number XVIII, chap. LII.
I didn't watch Dr Who today.
Ms Llew rocks today because: I said it before -- she's great. She's just not great; she's psyically great. Indeedy.
Friday, September 27, 2002
Today's question is this:
What, pray, is a bacon butty?
It's some British food or other. I suspect it's sandwich-y in origin, but I'm not sure. I never had one when I was little, they don't have them in the US, and I can't find anything about it on the Internet. I mean, it's not like I want to try one. *Thinks of English food, shudders* I have no trouble with food from disgusting sources as long as it tastes good, but English food doesn't. " 'Ere, lads, let's mix beef fat and flour..."
It was cold and rainy today. I was up early (9 ish) and consequently had about 4 hours of sleep. I did meet The Boy Who Would Be Roommate, but I believe nothing till I have cash in hand. I've been up that road before. My interview went well -- for christ's sake it's a grocery store, what do you have to be not to get a job in one -- but I soooo don't want the job. Unfortunately I am in no position to refuse any job. Hopefully something better will pop up... (I've not heard from Center for Documentary Studies yet). When I got back I took a nap for the rest of the afternoon, and I've felt off since. And my leg hurts abominably... like the bone inside. Quite odd.
I do love the rain. It got warmer while I was asleep so it's warmer tonight than today. Soon it will time to wear the suede pants again!
In another world, I would have gone to Henry's tonight -- Thursday is going out night in Chapel Hill -- with Jamie. We'd sit in the corner and snigger at all the fierces poseurs and swoon over boys.
And yes, we'd be the best dressed ones there. I'd bum a cigarette at some point.
*sighs*
At least tomorrow is Friday. I'll turn all the lights out in the hovel, light my bottle-of-chianti candle and sit in the corner and talk to Murphy as a I drink my pint o' rum. Perhaps I will strum my guitar.
I was playing with Murphy on the counter today and he rolled over and fell to the floor. He gave this great "meo..ouch!" Then he popped back up, looked at me, looked at the floor and scowled at me.
God... that the exciting bits of my life should be stories about my cat.
Maybe it's time to go get two or three more.
I'm still reading The Pickwick Papers. I'm on the last 100 pages, which is quite exciting, as it's over 700 pages. It's certainly one of the longest books I've read.
Dr Who of the Day: Terror of the Vervoids, part one: Hey! It's Pussy Galore! No really, Honor Blackman is in this (she was Pussy in the Bond film Goldfinger). It's also the first story with companion Mel. She actually gets a good intro, really, and works well with Colin Baker's Doctor. Pity she didn't keep getting good scripts... and she really didn't work well with the next Doctor (starting in the story after next).
The Demeter seeds are little pellets of chromium, like you get at hobby shops.
I should explain that the last two stories, this one and the next are actually one whole story called The Trial of a Time Lord. They were one season (series in the UK) of 14 episodes, made after the show was off the air for 18 months and during which one of the writers died as he was writing the ending and the scrpit editor had a fight with the producer and quit. Nobody understands the last two episodes, even the people who made it. I'm not really sure the point of this so here: it also has the shortest lived arrangement of the theme (the above 14 episodes). It is also my favourite one. New Doctor, new opening, new music in the next season.Oh well.
Did you know the original 1963 version of the theme is considered one of the finest ever pieces of electronic music? It was all done by hand by two people (Ron Grainger and Delia Derbyshire) which is pretty amazing if you've ever heard it...
Word of the day: jingoism. See also Bush's foriegn policy on Iraq. (It ain't a war yet, thank goodness).
You know, in conspiracy theory circles, there's a popular idea that the Constitution was suspended when FDR declared a federal emergency in 1933. Because of the way federal emergency acts work, it couldn't be rescinded till he -- or any of his successors -- ordered it. Since the act gave him extraordinary power, he nor any of his successors did, and the president has been a semi-elected dictator ever since. Not all the extremely limited executive of the Constitution who is subject to the Congress and Supreme Court. (Read the Constitution, it's really surprising how little the president should do).
I don't know how true this is, but I bet President Bush fell for it hook, line and sinker. He certainly acts like a Roman Emperor, treading over the Senate.
I don't buy into Conspiracy theories, but I have this great dictionary of them. It's a great sociological/anthropological look at the US and how myth works in society. Get it: it's Everything's Under Control by Robert Anton Wilson.
Reason Llew rocks: She's letting me tatto her name on my shoulder...
Actually, I do want another tattoo, this one on my arm. This goes somewhere between that book of Tennessee Williams poetry and stuff to make absinthe.
(Hey look! An answer on my test! Go see it.)
So, there's been a little mini-rush here in a time zone far away. Like 17 hits, which is three times anywhere else but the US East Coast. It looks like Thailand, Malaysia, Burma, China, Mongolia or Siberia. It might be Western Australia, though, as the map is funky.
These people should so write me.
Amusingly, I'm more popular in on the other side of the world than at home.
Ha, ha, it's almost not depressing.
I hope Llew's package comes tomorrow. They would be swell.
Have a good trip, Ll.
What, pray, is a bacon butty?
It's some British food or other. I suspect it's sandwich-y in origin, but I'm not sure. I never had one when I was little, they don't have them in the US, and I can't find anything about it on the Internet. I mean, it's not like I want to try one. *Thinks of English food, shudders* I have no trouble with food from disgusting sources as long as it tastes good, but English food doesn't. " 'Ere, lads, let's mix beef fat and flour..."
It was cold and rainy today. I was up early (9 ish) and consequently had about 4 hours of sleep. I did meet The Boy Who Would Be Roommate, but I believe nothing till I have cash in hand. I've been up that road before. My interview went well -- for christ's sake it's a grocery store, what do you have to be not to get a job in one -- but I soooo don't want the job. Unfortunately I am in no position to refuse any job. Hopefully something better will pop up... (I've not heard from Center for Documentary Studies yet). When I got back I took a nap for the rest of the afternoon, and I've felt off since. And my leg hurts abominably... like the bone inside. Quite odd.
I do love the rain. It got warmer while I was asleep so it's warmer tonight than today. Soon it will time to wear the suede pants again!
In another world, I would have gone to Henry's tonight -- Thursday is going out night in Chapel Hill -- with Jamie. We'd sit in the corner and snigger at all the fierces poseurs and swoon over boys.
And yes, we'd be the best dressed ones there. I'd bum a cigarette at some point.
*sighs*
At least tomorrow is Friday. I'll turn all the lights out in the hovel, light my bottle-of-chianti candle and sit in the corner and talk to Murphy as a I drink my pint o' rum. Perhaps I will strum my guitar.
I was playing with Murphy on the counter today and he rolled over and fell to the floor. He gave this great "meo..ouch!" Then he popped back up, looked at me, looked at the floor and scowled at me.
God... that the exciting bits of my life should be stories about my cat.
Maybe it's time to go get two or three more.
I'm still reading The Pickwick Papers. I'm on the last 100 pages, which is quite exciting, as it's over 700 pages. It's certainly one of the longest books I've read.
Dr Who of the Day: Terror of the Vervoids, part one: Hey! It's Pussy Galore! No really, Honor Blackman is in this (she was Pussy in the Bond film Goldfinger). It's also the first story with companion Mel. She actually gets a good intro, really, and works well with Colin Baker's Doctor. Pity she didn't keep getting good scripts... and she really didn't work well with the next Doctor (starting in the story after next).
The Demeter seeds are little pellets of chromium, like you get at hobby shops.
I should explain that the last two stories, this one and the next are actually one whole story called The Trial of a Time Lord. They were one season (series in the UK) of 14 episodes, made after the show was off the air for 18 months and during which one of the writers died as he was writing the ending and the scrpit editor had a fight with the producer and quit. Nobody understands the last two episodes, even the people who made it. I'm not really sure the point of this so here: it also has the shortest lived arrangement of the theme (the above 14 episodes). It is also my favourite one. New Doctor, new opening, new music in the next season.Oh well.
Did you know the original 1963 version of the theme is considered one of the finest ever pieces of electronic music? It was all done by hand by two people (Ron Grainger and Delia Derbyshire) which is pretty amazing if you've ever heard it...
Word of the day: jingoism. See also Bush's foriegn policy on Iraq. (It ain't a war yet, thank goodness).
You know, in conspiracy theory circles, there's a popular idea that the Constitution was suspended when FDR declared a federal emergency in 1933. Because of the way federal emergency acts work, it couldn't be rescinded till he -- or any of his successors -- ordered it. Since the act gave him extraordinary power, he nor any of his successors did, and the president has been a semi-elected dictator ever since. Not all the extremely limited executive of the Constitution who is subject to the Congress and Supreme Court. (Read the Constitution, it's really surprising how little the president should do).
I don't know how true this is, but I bet President Bush fell for it hook, line and sinker. He certainly acts like a Roman Emperor, treading over the Senate.
I don't buy into Conspiracy theories, but I have this great dictionary of them. It's a great sociological/anthropological look at the US and how myth works in society. Get it: it's Everything's Under Control by Robert Anton Wilson.
Reason Llew rocks: She's letting me tatto her name on my shoulder...
Actually, I do want another tattoo, this one on my arm. This goes somewhere between that book of Tennessee Williams poetry and stuff to make absinthe.
(Hey look! An answer on my test! Go see it.)
So, there's been a little mini-rush here in a time zone far away. Like 17 hits, which is three times anywhere else but the US East Coast. It looks like Thailand, Malaysia, Burma, China, Mongolia or Siberia. It might be Western Australia, though, as the map is funky.
These people should so write me.
Amusingly, I'm more popular in on the other side of the world than at home.
Ha, ha, it's almost not depressing.
I hope Llew's package comes tomorrow. They would be swell.
Have a good trip, Ll.
Thursday, September 26, 2002
I'm sooo going to hell*.
Indeedy.
In the past twenty minutes alone, I've thrown down the gauntlet for a girly cat-fight (the last little bit of hetero in me, I reckon) AND had terribly lustful thoughts about the boy who is to be my roommate.
(Note to self: don't frighten him off...)**
I'm off to my interview at the grocery store (?!).
*This post to be accompanied by Belle and Sebastian's 'The Boy Done Wrong Again...'
** It is, however, not my fault that he looks like Emo Glasses boy (See below).
Indeedy.
In the past twenty minutes alone, I've thrown down the gauntlet for a girly cat-fight (the last little bit of hetero in me, I reckon) AND had terribly lustful thoughts about the boy who is to be my roommate.
(Note to self: don't frighten him off...)**
I'm off to my interview at the grocery store (?!).
*This post to be accompanied by Belle and Sebastian's 'The Boy Done Wrong Again...'
** It is, however, not my fault that he looks like Emo Glasses boy (See below).
This describes my day*:
I was nosing around in one of my Romanticism textbooks (looking up an obscure sonnet by Percy Bysshe Shelley) when I started perusing Jane Austen's biography.
Turns out she put on the spinster cap at 24, not 23.
Disgusted -- I'm 24 -- I put on a Belle and Sebastian CD, The Boy With The Arab Strap, to do something --anything -- else.
Ha, ha! The first line of the first song is...
"He had a stroke at the age of 24..."
So I started to read The Pickwick Papers. Mr. Pickwick was sent to Debtor's Prison.
*frustrated groan*
Tonight was also a Spoon concert. Needless to say, I didn't go, as I have no money.
I called Indie Girl Prime, who was of course going. I called her. She was watching Ed so she watched that instead. Of course, she did call back. Talking to her was nice, but brief. She's like a flash of lightening in the summer. You never know when she'll show up or what she'll do, but you don't want to miss it and it's always fun.
But I do wish she were around more...
I watched the Simpsons tonight. They had a parody of a British comedy, called Do Shut Up. Homer described it thus: "If they're not making time with a bird, they're having a row with a wanker." It had two drunks beating each other with bottles.
Now this confused me. I never saw anything like that on when I lived there, nor have I seen anything like that since. ('Cept maybe Andy Capp, and that was on before my time).
Oh, and maybe EastEnders, a bit.
[For the other Americans: that was a joke.]
Speaking of dreams -- I thought quite a lot about this today -- I realized I have one dream much more often than any other. It's about Manteo, a little town I used to live in on the NC coast. There's always lots and lots of water in the dreams. Not unusual as Manteo is on a island, but there's even more water than that. It's like Venice, built on stilts and pylons and islets. And the water is turquoise. I typically tool around the places I used to work, like the Half Moon Junction, Waterside Theater and the ship Elizabeth II and try to work there again.
This dream almost always goes hand in hand with a dream about travelling to Key West and the Seven Mile Bridge you take to get there. Not at the same time I have them, mind, but almost always both on the same night.**
I'm pretty sure these dreams are me trying to go back to a place where I was quite happy. But they are very pretty, with the water and the beaches.
Somebody -- a minx, no less *growls* -- told me that losing teeth means uncertainty about the foundations of my life. Hmm... How far back has Maddie read? Yep... the past few weeks have challenged them all, and that's a fact.
I'm told -- frequently, lately -- that Murphy is not a small cat. That he is, in fact, quite large.
How weird. He seems small to me, but then again I remember him when he was 3 months old.
Any way, I wish I was a) as comfortable as he looks when he sleeps
b) as cute as he is when he sleeps (head cocked to one side lying on his front paws with his tail wrapped around his back paws and nose crinkled up)
c) and that somebody looked at me like that when I was asleep.
Hmmm. Now I feel all alone and sad. Again. I wish it was raining.
* This post should be accompanied by Bach's "Air on the G String," BWV 1068
** Except this bit. Go listen to Sara Vaughn's "Key Largo"
I was nosing around in one of my Romanticism textbooks (looking up an obscure sonnet by Percy Bysshe Shelley) when I started perusing Jane Austen's biography.
Turns out she put on the spinster cap at 24, not 23.
Disgusted -- I'm 24 -- I put on a Belle and Sebastian CD, The Boy With The Arab Strap, to do something --anything -- else.
Ha, ha! The first line of the first song is...
"He had a stroke at the age of 24..."
So I started to read The Pickwick Papers. Mr. Pickwick was sent to Debtor's Prison.
*frustrated groan*
Tonight was also a Spoon concert. Needless to say, I didn't go, as I have no money.
I called Indie Girl Prime, who was of course going. I called her. She was watching Ed so she watched that instead. Of course, she did call back. Talking to her was nice, but brief. She's like a flash of lightening in the summer. You never know when she'll show up or what she'll do, but you don't want to miss it and it's always fun.
But I do wish she were around more...
I watched the Simpsons tonight. They had a parody of a British comedy, called Do Shut Up. Homer described it thus: "If they're not making time with a bird, they're having a row with a wanker." It had two drunks beating each other with bottles.
Now this confused me. I never saw anything like that on when I lived there, nor have I seen anything like that since. ('Cept maybe Andy Capp, and that was on before my time).
Oh, and maybe EastEnders, a bit.
[For the other Americans: that was a joke.]
Speaking of dreams -- I thought quite a lot about this today -- I realized I have one dream much more often than any other. It's about Manteo, a little town I used to live in on the NC coast. There's always lots and lots of water in the dreams. Not unusual as Manteo is on a island, but there's even more water than that. It's like Venice, built on stilts and pylons and islets. And the water is turquoise. I typically tool around the places I used to work, like the Half Moon Junction, Waterside Theater and the ship Elizabeth II and try to work there again.
This dream almost always goes hand in hand with a dream about travelling to Key West and the Seven Mile Bridge you take to get there. Not at the same time I have them, mind, but almost always both on the same night.**
I'm pretty sure these dreams are me trying to go back to a place where I was quite happy. But they are very pretty, with the water and the beaches.
Somebody -- a minx, no less *growls* -- told me that losing teeth means uncertainty about the foundations of my life. Hmm... How far back has Maddie read? Yep... the past few weeks have challenged them all, and that's a fact.
I'm told -- frequently, lately -- that Murphy is not a small cat. That he is, in fact, quite large.
How weird. He seems small to me, but then again I remember him when he was 3 months old.
Any way, I wish I was a) as comfortable as he looks when he sleeps
b) as cute as he is when he sleeps (head cocked to one side lying on his front paws with his tail wrapped around his back paws and nose crinkled up)
c) and that somebody looked at me like that when I was asleep.
Hmmm. Now I feel all alone and sad. Again. I wish it was raining.
* This post should be accompanied by Bach's "Air on the G String," BWV 1068
** Except this bit. Go listen to Sara Vaughn's "Key Largo"
Wednesday, September 25, 2002
All right I'll tell you: this was my dream...*
I have two recurring dreams. One is quite boring, involving my teeth falling out. I have this once every few weeks.
The other one, which I had last night, is a bit less common but always quite vivid. I'm in a book store. Usually I don't recognize it, but I always recognize bits and pieces of it. Last night, I remember nine foot mahagony bookcases.
Anyway. I go and look for Dr. Who books. I always find them...
I have to interpose. I have every Dr Who book from the past 12 years and I know every one released (two a month -- check out the cult link below).
...but they're one's I've never seen or heard of. The covers are always very, very vivid and the titles appropriate. Usually, I don't have enough to buy all the ones I want, so I debate over which ones to get. That's as far as I get. Then I wake up.
Usually, these dreams are unprompted, but last night I was nosing around the BBC books site (again, it's below) looking all the ones I'm missing. The importer BBC used went out of business and no new books have gotten to the US since May. I'm out about a dozen books.
And man, am I Jonesing. Like a junkie. It's been years -- literally -- since I waited so long for a fix.
So here are a few of the best releases this year:
Mad Dogs and Englishmen: this is the 100th BBC Dr. Who book. Simply put, Giant
Talking Poodles collude with Noel Coward and J R R Tolkien to change history. Trippy (check the cover)
and fun.
Hope: set vastly far in the future, it's all about death and rebirth. It's also excellently plotted: you think
you know what's going on, but then you find out what's really happening. Like Fight Club, it was quite
obvious, really.
Anachrophobia: Creepy. Very creepy. People turn into clocks. Sounds cheesey, but like the best of the
TV show, everybody has such crazy belief it works.
The Adventuress of Henrietta Street and The City of the Dead are both great, too, but you have to have
read soo much to get them. The others anybody could pick up and read. So do it!
*The opening of Act II in Fiddler on the Roof.
I watched The Gilmore Girls tonight for the first time. Not too bad. I quite like the mother.
I'm becoming apathetic. Terribly apathetic. I just... Yeah.
What was that Smiths song? *laughs ironically* Which one... Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now or Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want.
Yeah.
I don't feel like writing any more tonight.
'Night, emo-glasses boy.
I have two recurring dreams. One is quite boring, involving my teeth falling out. I have this once every few weeks.
The other one, which I had last night, is a bit less common but always quite vivid. I'm in a book store. Usually I don't recognize it, but I always recognize bits and pieces of it. Last night, I remember nine foot mahagony bookcases.
Anyway. I go and look for Dr. Who books. I always find them...
I have to interpose. I have every Dr Who book from the past 12 years and I know every one released (two a month -- check out the cult link below).
...but they're one's I've never seen or heard of. The covers are always very, very vivid and the titles appropriate. Usually, I don't have enough to buy all the ones I want, so I debate over which ones to get. That's as far as I get. Then I wake up.
Usually, these dreams are unprompted, but last night I was nosing around the BBC books site (again, it's below) looking all the ones I'm missing. The importer BBC used went out of business and no new books have gotten to the US since May. I'm out about a dozen books.
And man, am I Jonesing. Like a junkie. It's been years -- literally -- since I waited so long for a fix.
So here are a few of the best releases this year:
Mad Dogs and Englishmen: this is the 100th BBC Dr. Who book. Simply put, Giant
Talking Poodles collude with Noel Coward and J R R Tolkien to change history. Trippy (check the cover)
and fun.
Hope: set vastly far in the future, it's all about death and rebirth. It's also excellently plotted: you think
you know what's going on, but then you find out what's really happening. Like Fight Club, it was quite
obvious, really.
Anachrophobia: Creepy. Very creepy. People turn into clocks. Sounds cheesey, but like the best of the
TV show, everybody has such crazy belief it works.
The Adventuress of Henrietta Street and The City of the Dead are both great, too, but you have to have
read soo much to get them. The others anybody could pick up and read. So do it!
*The opening of Act II in Fiddler on the Roof.
I watched The Gilmore Girls tonight for the first time. Not too bad. I quite like the mother.
I'm becoming apathetic. Terribly apathetic. I just... Yeah.
What was that Smiths song? *laughs ironically* Which one... Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now or Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want.
Yeah.
I don't feel like writing any more tonight.
'Night, emo-glasses boy.
Tuesday, September 24, 2002
Find your inner random object! by Emily
I think that should work. If not go here: What's your random object? If you're cool like me, you'll get this boy with glasses. *growls*
Maybe Llew was right... Maybe I should wear my glasses more often.
I Just Don't Get It!
If I thought all the various shit that has happened to me had a reason or a point, I could deal so much more easily. Right now, it just seems like sorrow upon sorrow drops on my shoulders like rain, and with as much logic. I wish I could explain how frustrated it makes me or how sad or how confused.
I feel like I'm five or six...things happen and I don't know why or how and there's nothing I can do.'Cept when I was little, I always knew there was a reason that I could find out if I tried enough.
(It's raining because a cold front met a warm front out beyond Hatteras and the heat from the warm front gave the water in the cold front the energy to condense and the prevaling winds blew onto shore...)
Doesn't work too well, now.
I have a friend -- she's Catholic, which is worth noting -- who says it much easier to be an athiest. She says they get to believe whatever they want. I tried to explain to her that, it's much more difficult to build up a coherent world view and system of morality and justify it than to blind buy into catholic dogma. Good little Catholic girl she is, she doesn't even question what's given to her. (She doesn't practice either and doesn't really believe in catholicism, so I think she's on really weak ground here...)
Point: I wish I could blithely say "God's in charge and there's a plan." I come close, I've got the idea that things will work out, and I try to hope that, but it'd sure be easier if I thought there was A Point.
Also, I always thought being unemployed would be easy and carefree. It's not. Every minute, I'm toting up a) what I'm not making and b) what I'm spending. (I would have earned $50 at Elmo's today... I spent $3.50 on cookies and a Diet Coke)
The end of the month is coming and if I don't get a roommate, I don't know what I'll do. I know I won't even attempt to pay bills.
I meant to mention this earlier... Last week on Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law (on Adult Swim, on Cartoon Network on Sunday nights: great TV!) the lawyer for the prosecution was reading American Dramaturgy! Of course, he was also a flaming gay send-up.
Which is odd, because no dramaturg I know is gay.
That was another reason I am all down: I spent a few minutes looking at grad schools today. The only people with dramaturgy programs were Ivy League schools: Yale, Harvard, Columbia, Brandeis, NYU. Utterly pointless to look at them, really: I couldn't even afford to apply for them. As if they'd let me in.
And no, No, NO, NO! I will not explain what a dramaturg is, dammit. It's what I want to be. Go here instead.
That's another thing wrong with me. I use old books and plays to relate to the world. Like right now, I feel like a character in Eugene O'Neill. (Long Days Journey Into Night, incidentally.) And of course, No-one knows what I'm talking about.
Oh yeah? Titus. Great movie, directed by Julie Taymor, who did The Lion King play. Which is more significant: Taymor's use of imagery or her manipulation of the original text?
And can anybody use the original text with a straight face, really? I mean, it's so bad there were critics who said it had to be a parody. (Probably not: it's probably the first play of somebody who had to write in popular, though awful, genre.)
Is death/bad end of the protaganist a given in a classical tragedy? Does it change anything substanial if Dr Faustus snuffs it in the first scene?
Why do people keep going to travesties written by Andrew Lloyd Webber (let's face it: he's a fuckin Bond Villian, not a hack) or Stephen Sondhiem? Why does the bourgoisie insist that not only is legitimate theatre, but is the apex of the theatrical art? (Wagnerian gesamptkework notwithstanding)
Umm... sorry.
On a related tangent: last night, I saw the web page for the Noel Coward Society. I would soo love to be in that (They even have a test you have to pass to be a member -- I can't even imagine...) but it costs 25 pounds.
On a tangent to that... If I had money to blow, I'd call a phone sex line (one that advertises "We'll talk about anything you want..) and talk philosophy. "Baby, tell me what you think about Kant." "I want to lick you all over..." "Hegele, baby. Are you self-actualized?"
Hey, it'd be my money.
It's (slowly) beginning to get cool and rainy. Hurrah... I want to walk in the rain, late at night, alone under sodium lamps.
It always makes me feel disconnected from the whole world, like a ghost. A relic.
Yeah. That's exactly the right word.
Relic.
Monday, September 23, 2002
So I heard a song today that made me smile:
If you see a girl with long brown hair
And a funny little smile on her face
That'll make you laugh or hold your breath
As she travels from place to place.
She'll meet all kind of people
Where ever she may go
And all her friends will tell you that
If you should want to know.
She's Llew. (She's who?)
She's Laura Llew (Of course!)
She's quite at home in a big space ship
Or sitting on top of a horse.
She's been to the past and future,
But whatever she may do,
She'll always be a friend of mine.
(Llew?) Laura Llew!
If you look way up in the sky above
And see a little streak of light,
It's not near dawn nor an early bird
As she streaks on through the night.
But even an early bird can't groove
So what can it be?
And this is what I'll say to you
If you should ask of me...
It's Llew, it's Llew,
It's Laura Llew of course.
That streak of light up in the sky
Means that she's off once more.
She's been to the past and future
But whatever she may do,
She'll always be a friend of mine
(Llew?) Laura Llew.
La la la la la la la la la la...
It could be Mars or Venus
But whatever she may do,
She'll always be a friend of mine,
Laura Llew...
Okay, so it was written for Dr Who, but I realized at the gym you could switch in Laura Llew and it would fit. And quite frankly, Llew should get the opportunity to Time Travel...
An oddish sort of day.
I woke up early so as to be ready to show the hovel. 'Course he didn't show up. I've decided to overlook this --he claims he'll appear tomorrow -- since he was obviously a) woken by me and b) hung over when I talked to him. It's not as if he didn't ask me/tell me was going out drinking last night.
I've made up my mind he is cute and this explains by beneficience.
My parents also showed up. They've gone on a multi-week business trip and came through Durham today and so visited (Both I-40, a major east-west road and I-85, a major north-south road go through Durham, the next town over). They brought milk, Diet Coke and chicken salad. Essentials, then. And the Major changed the D-string on my guitar, something that's needed doing for a while.
I'm listening to Duncan Sheik. Do you know him? Guitar-driven singer/song-writer? His single 'Barely Breathing' charted the longest ever of any song on the AC charts (50+ weeks). Course, that sounds nothing like the rest of 96 STR. His next album was okay-ish and his third, Phantom Moon, was also keen.
Phantom Moon was the soundtrack to a play by Steven Slater (never heard of him, either) but Sheik works incredibly with the words. He has a lovely voice. He's apparently working on a musical version of Spring Awakening (a Frank Wedekind play about adolescent sexuality, written 1896 and not preformed in an uncensored form till 1991). This intrigues me. It has a circle jerk* scene that has still to be done on stage.
Anyway, he just released another album of crappy pop-y stuff. I downloaded one the big single and was terribly disappointed. Had I money, I'd still buy it, but he's prolly like Star Trek: only every other realease is good. He also has a version of 'Reel Around the Fountain' that puts Moz to shame.
But his first release is soooo very great. Mellow and melancholy and sweet, like a rainy Fall afternoon where you remember an old flame.
Did I mention he's a dish?
I can't quite decide if I should tar him with the "Faux Indie" stripe**...
Have you seen that objectionable ad for Cingular One: "Now an American can be an American all over the world?" With this jackass heckling a camel driver and inducing a Venetian boatman to make a U-Turn? Ugh. I'm not like this. Nor will I allow my fiancee when we go to Europe for our honeymoon. (I ain't a-payin for it.)
I saw the movie The Omen tonight. It was quite good. It was of course ruined by the fact that Patrick Troughton was in it in a serious role.
Yep. The second Dr Who. I kept waiting for a Dalek to appear. When he started to run from a supernatural attack, I kept waiting for a "Now.. When I say run..." He even had a scene with Gregory Peck...
It's like when he appears in Jason and the Argonauts or when Tom Baker is the Bad Guy in the Golden Voyage of Sinbad...
*Use your imagination. It takes more than one boy and is used as a Fraternity initiation.
** Faux Indie... Euch! John Mayer is the worst example of this. "Your Body Is a Playground'?! Like he's banging away on Jennifer Love Hewitt and not, in fact, taking it elsewhere. Not that I have an axe to grind with this 'fierce poseur...' [Noel Coward joke]
Sunday, September 22, 2002
I am sooo bored. It takes money to do anything. Except go to the gym, which I have been doing in excess. I even went today and I never go on Saturdays. It's out of the house, though.
I'm broke again. As in not a dime. Thankfully, I've got half a tank of gas. God only knows what I'll do when that's gone. At least public transport is free in Chapel Hill.
Plenty of food though. Thanks, Mom and Dad. Did I tell you? I got excess from their restaurant, hot dogs (gone now), BBQ, hamburgers and chicken breasts. I spent the last dollar on hamburger buns.
I want a job now. I need something to do.
I want my hair back too, for that matter. The connection: time, my dear. I just have to wait.
I've somebody coming tomorrow to look at being a roommate. They sound quite nice. He works for Save the Children, and went to Art School, studying photography. His minor was Art History (like me!) and also like me specialized in the Early Italian Renaissance.
After I went to the gym, he left a message asking me if want to go along for a beer.
I can't make up my mind quite what that was.
There was some quite witty exchanges on the petullant web site today. By the by, the aforementioned pix of Barbarella are there, along with certain asserverations from her bookselling doppelganger.
Tonight I'm watching As Time Goes By. I do like this show. It's like red wine, it requires subtlety and time to appreciate it. Or so I asssume. Red wine makes me physically sick after a night and a gallon of cheap cooking burgundy. Just serving it makes me want to retch. It's a pity, so many cool people rattle on red wine at bars and I stumble through with rum and coke.
Look at me, still nattering on about the cool kids...
Anyway... guilty fanboy joy: Geoffrey Palmer was in the 1971 Dr Who story The Mutants (and was killed before the end of Part 1) and Joan Simms was Queen Katryca in the Mysterious Planet, which I watched last. She died, too.
They took Monarch of the Glenn off the air (they ran through its entire run, I expect it will come back a few months after the new series is aired in the UK). *Sighs* Sorrows seem to be coming in packs.
Least I got a keen picture of Archie. It moves with a print of a Dorree engraving called 'The Enigma', a triptych of Mao (see the link above), a still of a Cyberman coming out of his Tomb and Hoppers' Nighthawks as my computer's wallpaper.
Dr Who of the Day: Mindwarp, part IV. Yes, again, I don't remember watching it from last night. Great lines... "This is Dorf and you are scum." and "Everyone has a point these days. I am a man of action, not of reason!" Both of these are Brian Blessed's character. There is also, to the great acclaim of fans, a pink tereliptel. Whee. But do see the first installment, where I mention the Technocolor 80s.
Oh yes. Peri snuffs it as well. It's a cool way to go, brain transplantation, but it seems wasted on Ms American Leotard that'll show 'em off Brown (hmm. see yesterday's entry on Boobs). I should be nicer, as I actually have met the (completely British and not-at-all American) Nicola Bryant, who played Peri. She was quite very lovely and interesting.
Book of the Day: The Pickwick Papers, Book XIV, chap. XXXVI.
Word of the Day: sackbut -- an antique musical instrument, like a trombone. Not quite as cool a word as shawm or rebec (other obsolete instruments, like an oboe and like a violin) but it gets point for obscurity and phunky-soundingness.
Reason Llaura Llew rocks: "A man, hunh?" *bites off head* "Tastes good."
Remember, Laura: Watch those teeth. They can hurt.
I'm broke again. As in not a dime. Thankfully, I've got half a tank of gas. God only knows what I'll do when that's gone. At least public transport is free in Chapel Hill.
Plenty of food though. Thanks, Mom and Dad. Did I tell you? I got excess from their restaurant, hot dogs (gone now), BBQ, hamburgers and chicken breasts. I spent the last dollar on hamburger buns.
I want a job now. I need something to do.
I want my hair back too, for that matter. The connection: time, my dear. I just have to wait.
I've somebody coming tomorrow to look at being a roommate. They sound quite nice. He works for Save the Children, and went to Art School, studying photography. His minor was Art History (like me!) and also like me specialized in the Early Italian Renaissance.
After I went to the gym, he left a message asking me if want to go along for a beer.
I can't make up my mind quite what that was.
There was some quite witty exchanges on the petullant web site today. By the by, the aforementioned pix of Barbarella are there, along with certain asserverations from her bookselling doppelganger.
Tonight I'm watching As Time Goes By. I do like this show. It's like red wine, it requires subtlety and time to appreciate it. Or so I asssume. Red wine makes me physically sick after a night and a gallon of cheap cooking burgundy. Just serving it makes me want to retch. It's a pity, so many cool people rattle on red wine at bars and I stumble through with rum and coke.
Look at me, still nattering on about the cool kids...
Anyway... guilty fanboy joy: Geoffrey Palmer was in the 1971 Dr Who story The Mutants (and was killed before the end of Part 1) and Joan Simms was Queen Katryca in the Mysterious Planet, which I watched last. She died, too.
They took Monarch of the Glenn off the air (they ran through its entire run, I expect it will come back a few months after the new series is aired in the UK). *Sighs* Sorrows seem to be coming in packs.
Least I got a keen picture of Archie. It moves with a print of a Dorree engraving called 'The Enigma', a triptych of Mao (see the link above), a still of a Cyberman coming out of his Tomb and Hoppers' Nighthawks as my computer's wallpaper.
Dr Who of the Day: Mindwarp, part IV. Yes, again, I don't remember watching it from last night. Great lines... "This is Dorf and you are scum." and "Everyone has a point these days. I am a man of action, not of reason!" Both of these are Brian Blessed's character. There is also, to the great acclaim of fans, a pink tereliptel. Whee. But do see the first installment, where I mention the Technocolor 80s.
Oh yes. Peri snuffs it as well. It's a cool way to go, brain transplantation, but it seems wasted on Ms American Leotard that'll show 'em off Brown (hmm. see yesterday's entry on Boobs). I should be nicer, as I actually have met the (completely British and not-at-all American) Nicola Bryant, who played Peri. She was quite very lovely and interesting.
Book of the Day: The Pickwick Papers, Book XIV, chap. XXXVI.
Word of the Day: sackbut -- an antique musical instrument, like a trombone. Not quite as cool a word as shawm or rebec (other obsolete instruments, like an oboe and like a violin) but it gets point for obscurity and phunky-soundingness.
Reason Llaura Llew rocks: "A man, hunh?" *bites off head* "Tastes good."
Remember, Laura: Watch those teeth. They can hurt.
Saturday, September 21, 2002
Hey kids...
Yeah today was slack. All the phone calls I expected didn't come. I will never get a job.
I did go the gym and I did get some rum. Whereupon, I drank it.
So I got drunk and danced and sang by myself. I listened to This American Life. I irritated the cat.
So another reason I just don't get boys: Girls Gone Wild. I don't understand it. I suppose I just don't have an appropriate appreciation of boobs. That's all it is, lots and lots of them, like they never get old. I mean, it looks like it would only appeal to 15 year olds who've never actually seen any before. But no... it's for an older set. How great can they be? I mean, if you've seen two...
I didn't see the Boy today at the gym.
Yeah, today sucked.
Book of the day: The Pickwick Papers, Book XIV, Chap XXXVI
Dr Who of the Day: Mindwarp, part 4
Reason Laura Llew rocks: Who else has Chocolate covered Boys?
Word of the Day: to olfact - to smell strongly
Yeah today was slack. All the phone calls I expected didn't come. I will never get a job.
I did go the gym and I did get some rum. Whereupon, I drank it.
So I got drunk and danced and sang by myself. I listened to This American Life. I irritated the cat.
So another reason I just don't get boys: Girls Gone Wild. I don't understand it. I suppose I just don't have an appropriate appreciation of boobs. That's all it is, lots and lots of them, like they never get old. I mean, it looks like it would only appeal to 15 year olds who've never actually seen any before. But no... it's for an older set. How great can they be? I mean, if you've seen two...
I didn't see the Boy today at the gym.
Yeah, today sucked.
Book of the day: The Pickwick Papers, Book XIV, Chap XXXVI
Dr Who of the Day: Mindwarp, part 4
Reason Laura Llew rocks: Who else has Chocolate covered Boys?
Word of the Day: to olfact - to smell strongly
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)