mockturle06: (matt and tim)
It was the worst of times, and the worst of times. And it was my own silly fault.

First I sat in the damp, freezing cold lecture hall all Saturday for the deeply intriguing lecture on witchcraft trials and heretics. I really enjoyed it, and normally I'd marvel at the quaintly Twenties (Thirties?) old building we were in, with orginal art deco fittings, but, man, it leaked like a sieve and had no heating whatsoever (they obviously bred students tougher back then).

Then I ran around in the rain doing emergency yardwork, thus ensuring my throat tickle turned into a cold. Then I ran around trying to meet my many and various commitments, and made sure my cold turned into flu. Oh, and it was hot water bottle time. And EOFY deadlines. Misery, compounded.

That said, I think being feverish rather enhanced my viewing of both Man of Steel and Angels In America.
more: modern metropolis )

stranded

Sep. 5th, 2011 09:14 pm
mockturle06: (Dean sad)
I said I wasn't going to cry. I'm afraid my attempts to take it on the chin are failing fast. Slings and arrows and all that.

I am pining. There's going to be more, yes, even more, misery and petulant stamping about than usual, for I am not leaving on a jet plane as planned, as I had been looking forward to for well over a year and a half. All my hopes and dreams once more fall victim to other people's merde. I could and should just up and go, sod 'em, sod 'em all but I suffer from a triple blow of being a capricorn, an eldest child and raised proddy. So it's duty and misery above living my life and doing what I want to do. Again. Hence the pissy pity party.

It's not like I'm being thanked, either. It's just expected. I am so not happy, especially as this was all I had to carry me along for so long. They don't give medals to those who stay home and iron and fix other people's mistakes.

So, that's that then. No Jude or David or National Gallery or British Museum for me.

It's a good thing they've finished playing season one of White Collar out here because I'd find Neal's constant whining about being stuck in New York very, very trying, right about now. He should try being stranded in Sydney, far, far away from everything that is good and right. It was once considered a fit punishment for criminals, you know, being exiled here. Still is. A fate worse than a fate worse than death.

So here I am, stranded, grounded, stuck here, through no real fault of my own, fearing that as I give in now I will never, ever leave again. I probably won't. I hate this.
more: there ain't a thing that I can do, you are lost your mind is a whirl, baby such a stupid girl, I'm stranded )
mockturle06: (Lewis)
Oh my golly gosh it's hot. I stepped off the bus after my usual epic commute (across the new bridge, meh) and was hit by a solid wall of oven hot air. And it just wouldn't let up. My cheap plastic shoes started to melt on the slog from bus stop to front gate. We had to keep all the doors and windows shut and huddle, with only one cheap fan between us, the in dimness with all the curtains drawn until the sunset.

The moment the boiling ball of torment set all the neighbours emerged, like we were all in some horror film, and it was still horrid (made all the worse for the well meaning cherry salad Himself made but you've no idea how I struggled to keep it down when I was really not happy at all) and so if I don't get the Brit List up this week it'll only because it was too hot to have the wee pootie on for more than an hour at a time, and you know, that's pretty much start up and shut down time with maybe a five minute window inbetween.
more: hot in the city )
mockturle06: (White Collar kiss)
High tea in a lush Japenese style garden, or whatever the Japanese version of Chinoiserie is, with a jazz band (singing all the big band, Rat Pack songs) and a retro fashion parade. What a wonderful way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
more: worst episode ever )
mockturle06: (Lewis)
Well, that's freaky. I attributed a fictional art theft of a semi-fictional painting in a semi-fictional gallery to a certain Mr Caffrey, and now the real painting has been nicked, exactly as described. I didn't do it, btw, but I feel I need to go back over that poor, poor entirely trashed White Collar fic and do a rewrite, especially as I'd been amusing myself with alluding to a few well known (and less well known) thefts, but this is the first time I've managed a pre-allude.

Hunt stepped up after $56m Van Gogh heist
http://www.dailytelegraph.com.au/news/world/museum-alarm-off-in-56m-van-gogh-heist/story-e6frev00-1225908592884

Faulty alarms blamed for Van Gogh theft in Egypt
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-11053314

Van Gogh stolen again
http://www.theaustralian.com.au/news/world/van-gogh-stolen-again/story-e6frg6so-1225908572292

Just to check, dear Neal, you are an entirely fictional young bounder, are you not? Because I gotta say, it was a choke on my Weetbix moment over brekkie, I can tell you, when I read that. Snap!
more: the butler did it )
mockturle06: (White Collar kiss)
It's still winter here, all blustery and wet. We don't usually have winter here so it's most unsettling. I mean, I quite like the dvd weekends with hot chocolates, but I shouldn't ind an opportunity for one of our high teas in the back garden. Before the mozzies kick in (annoying pests).

I've been over indulging in tea. Big pots of tea. Though not as bad as that time I had the enormous supersized pot of tea in New York (and went wee wee wee all the way down to Battery Park). Heh, I don't think there's a cafe twixt Union Square and Battery Park I didn't have to race into in desperate need. And it's just like Italy, right, so you have to buy a drink to use the loo, thus becoming trapped in a vicious cycle...

Second only to that time in Scotland where we trampled the tweedy folk underfoot dashing into a remote pub after some desperate miles on the highway after an unwisely large pot of tea (well, it was cold).

But you don't want to hear about my teapot misadventures.
more: the joy of sucking balls )
mockturle06: (White Collar kiss)
I did, finally, in between loads of washing on Sunday (hello pause button), catch up on White Collar. But I'm having such a terrible day again I can barely breathe, so I'll have to wait a bit before I tell you what I thought of it.

Because I don't want to come across as a curmudgeonly curmudgeon, otherwise you'll demand I stop watching it, and it's not that, it's just that I was brought up in a corrective, Calvinist household, and that's how I turned out, corrective and Calvinist, and, while I adore White Collar, I feel it gets by too easily on the many charms of its dashing young lead. I feel it 'could do better' (a statement I have a more than passing familiarity with, cf corrective and Calvinist).
more: white collars, black hats )
mockturle06: (lom tea)
So, it's going to be one of those Mondays. Change dropped, wrong order in the coffee shop, servers and connections down, got hissed at several times for not getting out of the way of far more important people quickly enough and I have a headache and I'm utterly miserable. Now is very, most definitely, the winter of my discontent.

Yes, the coffee shop, that American one. I seriously only went in their for the coffee grounds (the abundant slugs in the garden find them anathema). That's my story and I'm sticking to it. I just ordered tea, anyway. Don't ask. Looks like they were having a Monday, too.

Speaking of American coffee chains and their greatest customer, I gotta say, seriously, Matty, lay off the frappuccinos. Everytime I see a pap photo, there he is, clutching one. Every friggin' time. Matty, my dear boy, there will come a day, as it must come to all of us, when you'll have that frappuccino too far and we'll be talking the Vegas years, n'est-ce pas? So quit while you're still cute, my lovely one, because being not cute is not fun, trust me on this. Seriously, really not fun.

At least it explains all the sugar-hyped hijinks in some of the interviews - grin.
more: swordplay )
mockturle06: (Dean sad)
"Mr. Collins was not a sensible man, and the deficiency of nature had been but little assisted by education or society."


Monday: I seem to have emerged from my weekend somewhat bruised. I thought I was doing quite well, coping with everything that was thrown at me, but, as with all things, one finally came to the tipping point.

Oh yeah, I also saw saw Mr Collins. Not that Mr Collins. This Mr Collins.
he will knock four times )
mockturle06: (Dean)
Thursday: Howdy. Scored another day at the branch office. I like it here. Aside from being able to sleep in an extra two hours - which must never, ever be underestimated in how amazingly cool that is - it's all so nice and samey and comforting. After everything I've been through, dragged from pillar to post, here it's just exactly the same, even all the signs and posters sport the name of the organisation I started in nine years ago. As far as going back in time and pretending the last decade never happened, this is pretty darn close. And there's real toilet paper in the loos. Bliss.

I know, first I lament my life is going nowhere, then I wallow in being exactly where I was ten years ago. I'm a confusing person, I know. But it it is nice to be within one's comfort zone when the hangover starts to kick in, which is right about...now (I'll be off for coffee in a tick, though it is still dire out here and oh, I think this is my old keyboard, oh keys, the things you've typed, eh?).
more: but you can still get old postcards )
mockturle06: merlin in a hat (white collar)
Tuesday: "Sadly it wasn't a dildo..." Matt Smith discussing taking sonic screwdrivers through customs on Triplej this morning.

Sorry. Some things just make you choke on your cuppa in the morning. This is the first time I've really heard Matt in an interview (my evil wee pc has decided to curtail my youtube viewing, because it can) and he sounds like an interesting and articulate chap, which is all to the good. I didn't mind him in the other stuff I'd seen him in and I've heard such efulgent reviews of the latest series I'm actually worried I'm going to be left disappointed this weekend, but never mind, good luck to him.

Poor old David, though. Out of sight and out of mind. I mean, I knew it would happen, but some of the 'I never liked Tennant anyway' reviews, after years of slavish copy, sounded hyprocritical, cruel and downright bitchy. I shall reserve my opinion until I see the boy (what is it with policemen and timelords all being mere slips of lads these days?) in action, but so far, it sounds like I don't have to adopt the brace position, which is a relief.
more: take a look at the lawman )

home alone

May. 11th, 2009 03:28 pm
mockturle06: merlin in a hat (lom enough)
If nothing else, I have a bag of tentacles. I should have written this post earlier, but then it would have gone up and down depending on circumstance, as I had some very shitty moments over the weekend. We'll see how we go.
more: jesus doesn't want me for a sunbeam )
mockturle06: merlin in a hat (tyler)
Well, perhaps not, but I've just put in an order at amazon (exemption re misery) and with any luck I'll be awash with hot blonds and old coppers in a couple of weeks.

Not that I haven't got enough to be going on with, like over a month's worth of House and Life, but still, I needed something shiny to cheer me up, having been unreasonably meh of late. Speaking of House, this article, so much love: Behind the scenes on Bones with Stephen Fry.

This week has found me in John Hurt mode. No, not slashing the boys (though that'd be fun). I'm talking Alien (those of a nervous disposition will probably prefer to skip this post).
more: local wildlife and introduced species )
mockturle06: merlin in a hat (Lewis 2)
It was the worst of times, then, suddenly, inexplicably, the best.

Cause all I wanted to do was curl up in bed for a guilt free wet weekend of tv.
more: gang aft a-gley )

Brit News

Apr. 6th, 2009 11:22 pm

grey day

Mar. 31st, 2009 06:12 pm
mockturle06: merlin in a hat (sonic screwdriver)
Revenge is a dish best served with rocksteady beats. But first I will tell you about my trip to Kirribilli. the last time I was there, well, I can't remember, but I was a child. Somehow, maybe because it's posh, it had escaped redvelopment, at least, around the station were all nice little old art deco buildings, comtemporary with the bridge which slams through the place like enormous battlements. I had a few hours to kill, having seriously overestimated the time to get there, and standing on the train going over the bridge I was feeling more than a bit wobbly. I was really regretting not being able to take my back pack (ladies are to be in posession of a handbag no bigger than an A4 piece of paper) because at least I could have kept it on my shoulder and not have to worry about it all the time. Because I was really, really wobbly and should have been abed but this was a special day.
warning: this post may contain traces of nutty boys )

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