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Friday: so I waddled home late after a particularly good yum cha, sat up to watch Homicide and that was pretty much it. Noticed they played my fave Better Than Ezra song in Homicide, as they had to, so I was happy.
A grand day out: up at sparrow's fart to watch the Thunderbirds, get dressed and get out the door because I'm going to the end of the line, ie, off to see Best Friend for my big birthday day out. It's actually no great hassle at the moment because weirdly the public transport is conducive to going that way, rather than the swimming against the tide I usually seem to be doing, at least it's actually much quicker than getting dropped off back home, not that I minded the lift, loaded as I was, oh no. I'm just saying that for such a distance it only involves a change from bus to train and at that time of the morning it's quite pleasant, ie, uncrowded. Barely anyone but a couple of elderly Italian gents on the station.
So, I get to my destination in good time, time enough for breakfast at Starbucks which leads to the smutty food incident. I don't know what the contracted baker was on but the bagels had had some sort of an accident. Instead of being circular, they were just long rods of purple pastry. I resolved not to giggle, especially after the chocolate log incident, but the baristas all sniggered so that started me off, much to the haughty sniffing of the uptight middle class patrons behind me and I was still sniggering when Best Friend arrived. Managed to eat my purple length of blueberry bagel without choking and spraying crumbs or going to bad Gayle Feyrer slash places too much - not that I don't like Gayle, lovely lady, it's just that you don't want some of her more lurid images popping into mind when you're stuck with a long, hard length of blueberry bagel, not if you want to eat it without choking on it.
So that's the sad British humour segment of my day out of my way. It was a bagel that looked just like a thingy, wheeze.
And they call it hobbit love: Next up, The Two Towers. Yes, again. We'd planned this ages ago so I had to stay stum on having being dragged off to see it before. Twas my birthday treat, and what better a friend to give me pretty blond elf boys and lusty men for a present (and the hobbits too, though well slashy, failed to move me on the same scale). But Legolas, still so pretty, oh so pretty. so pretty and witty and bright...(ahem). Legolas even reminds Strider that Elf Boy is the prettiest boy on the block - damn straight. And Aragorn, woof! As the Huruk says: I smell man flesh, and he ain't kidding, as Argorn is so manly the waves of testosterone are just rolling off the screen and have us melting into puddles on the chairs. Woof again. What a man.
This time I could lean across and whisper the odd slashy comment, and vice versa, so that was fun. Poor Eowyn: get in line, girl, get in line.
So, leaving our boys to fight another day it was lunch time, and it felt like I'd only just had breakfast. For a long movie, it passes like nothing for me and for a second time I stagger out disorientated at the passage of time. I must say the cinemas up there were very nice. Nice big comfy seats, tiered rows, big screen, good sound, though not as good as Glebe. Certainly superior to broomcloset #5 at my local unrennovated since Star Wars IV dive, which as I say, is a substandard viewing experience and it's always better to watch the film at home. But thus far I've been blessed to see TTT in good cinemas which no doubt enhanced my pleasure in ways I'm not really aware, though I love sitting right up the front so I can be part of the battles. Best and only way to see a movie, as far as I'm concerned.
So, lunch. As much as Best Friend hinted for Italian (and don't think I didn't notice - grin) I took a fancy to the bento boxes and it was such a pretty Japanese restaurant with seats on the balcony and little flower arrangents on the tables consisting of floating plastic flowers in a bowel of water (hey, I'm easily impressed) and I haven't had sashimi for years - you can't get it out here - and it was good and I had green tea ice cream for dessert and I felt very treated indeed. Mmmm, just about the only icecream I like, probably because it only has happy Dana asociations. And now happy birthday associations, too.
Aragorn, Legolas and green tea icecream. Could my day get anybetter? Well, yeah. Best Friend had spied a Biehn dvd in the bargain bin at Kmart and lo and behold, one I'd not seen before: Strapped. It's probably dire but it was in the bargain bin so I bought it anyway, and he looked cute on the cover, and a Legolas folder too which I spied while waiting years for service. Had to have that. so much for throwing out all my old folders.
Then I found a Dark Angel calender, also in the bargain bin, 50% off. I wasn't going to buy it unless it had Alec in it. It did, so happy purchase. After a brief unsucessful search for another dvd (they had it but at twice the price I'd seen it elsewhere, no thankyou), it was back to BF's place for a quick video session of one episode of Adventure Inc and one episode of Without a Trace (thankyou, oh tape benefactor), which BF really liked (she was very polite over AI, and I appreciate it). Then it was suddenly tea time, so in the car, and just as quickly turfed out and rolling in to plonk myself on the couch just in time for Andromeda, season 2, and the mango yoghurt Mum had bought me. Burp.
The day isn't over yet. It's official Freak Boy Daniel week, because we had Need last night and Legacy tonight. Two solid hours of whacked out Daniel, and don't I love it. I even go so far as to jot things down, which is as far as I ever get with this story before being interupted, viz Friday and Saturday too, but no matter.
After Daniel there was the Biehn. Double Biehn as it happens, with The Abyss on one channel and Asteroid on another, so I just sort of flipped between them, staying mostly with Abyss but going Asteroid during ad breaks, when it wasn't about Coffey and switching over for keeps after Coffey imploded, literally. Still, points to Mikey for brooding darkly above and beyond the call of duty, honing his psycho routine and rolling around in a wet t-shirt which was later shredded, Captain Kirk style, much to my albeit shortlived appreciation.
Crap movie (somebody posted an academic dissection which basically accuses the film of having seven seperate and disjointed narratives that go nowhere rather than one cohesive plotline and a big huh over Coffey dying halfway through the movie), but Michael's giving it his all, bless, so his bits (and tits) are still very watchable. Asteroid is less watchable, but there are the jeans, those oh so tight jeans, and the ex-Professionals camera crew on hand to take full advantage of the wardrobe, ie crotch shot after crotch shot. Not that I'm shallow, okay, I am, but one seeks to enjoy a bad tv movie in the best way one can, and for me, it was all about the eye candy. Mmmm, yum.
Saw a pisstake of the Abyss yesterday and became weirdly defensive of my boy. Strange. Still, the silver jubilee is off to a fine start. In other words, I realised to my horror that this year marks my silver anniversary as a Biehn fan. Yikes. Though to be fair, I was a little nipper at the time, really, I was. So sad that I'm still writing about him in my diary, and if this wasn't typed, my handwriting would still be just as scrawly and childish.
Sunday: Slept in til 9am when all the lawnmowers went off like clockwork, like some weird Twilight Zone everyone must mow now moment. I guess I noticed it because it's been months and months since anyone has had grass enough to mow.
I didn't mow our lawn: it's still bare in large patches and they say it's better to let it grow taller to hold the moisture (I'll take any excuse) so I watched Dawn Patrol instead. Found it flicking channels and how classic, a 1938 anti-war war film with Errol, David and Basil (ie Flynn, Niven and Rathbone) doing the business as flyboys circa WWI (well, it would have to be, wouldn't it). Funny how anti-war films seem to appear on the very eve of war. Must be the zietgeist. Of course after that films become noble and heroic and not largely about the tragic loss of life until 10-20 years after the fact. As with Dawn Patrol. I'm not sure of its providence but it must have set the standard, or followed what All Quiet had already set down, because it was such a law abiding war film we were giggling quite cruelly when the baby brother joined the squad (dead man walking!) or when they two rogues went and did something very heroic and daring but against orders and got a chewing out from their CO who was secretly proud of them, they even had the drinking with the enemy who is quite alright, really, scene. Everything was there, you could check them off as you went. Still, it was a great old film, great cast and the dog fights were damn impressive, especially for 1938. They piss on some very recent films.
This was followed by an UNCLE film on TCM: To Trap A Spy, ie the pilot episodes hacked together to form a tv movie where THRUSH becomes WASP (ahem) and Illya appears only as an afterthought. We're talking Man from UNCLE here, not men, and you know you're living in a conservative age when your jaw keeps dropping over the sex and violence and gay references - and there was a blantant one - in an early 60s American tv show. Still, it was all good smutty fun, though I was distressed that a movie that purported to have a release date similiar to my vintage was on the classics station. I feel some sympathy with Homer re time and fashion passing me by, having reached the age where being asked which birthday I'm celebrating causes me to hyperventilate. Still, my minor Illya treat, so I'm happy.
After that I did a spot of gardening and I mean spot because after 15 mins or so the mozzies found me and I was bitten to pieces so I ran indoors flapping. Fortunately I'm so immune I barely come out in lumps these days.
Oh, I forgot to mention the day started with a burial at dawn (okay, midmorning) for the magpie who'd been attacked the day before. We'd put him in a quiet box in the laundry but he died overnight, but hopefully peacefully in his sleep and at least not eaten and torn apart. So sad that again another holiday is marred by death.
Er, not that I said holiday, I had Monday off sick because I did have a migraine, a mind grinding throwuppy one at that. I'd had it since Friday but it really hit on Sunday and I spent all Sunday afternoon and evening hanging onto the bed with my eyes closed trying to breathe, and had to watch Second Sight's encore screening that night instead of Hornblower because Clive is gorgeous and baggage free. Besides, I'd seen Horny many times before.
So I stayed home sick on Monday, and I was anyway, though I would have normally have dragged my sorry arse into work like I have done so today, only I didn't feel like it, and they never let me have any RDOs. So it was a bad, bad cheesy 60s Roddy McDowell movie for breakfast called IT, about a boy and his gollum which goes on a rampage through London and the scene where they tried to shoot the indestructible blue monster with the rocket launcher seemed strangely familiar (qv Buffy). After that I took down all the Xmas decorations to The Great Escape, pausing for my favourite bits. Grand all movie, with a cast of favourites (Gordon Jackson, David McCallum, James Coburn, James Garner and Steve McQueen) and it made light of the housework.
By lunchtime it was discovered I'd been spoilt enough this weekend by the gods and my desire for takeaway thai for my birthday just wasn't going to happen as every restaurant, not just thai, within a 30km radius was closed. Okay, so I'll make something, only the local shops have a criminal lack of shallots and limes, which means a two hour bus journey to the nearest big shopping mall, so as you can imagine dinner was late, but I did have my hand made and hard won thai beef salad and it was great. Managed to buy a cake too, which was highly fortunate because usually all the cake shops are shut too and I have to make do with packet mix but the local cheesecake shop, no doubt used to my abberant custom by now (ie how dare I not have a b-day in the middle of the year like any normal person) had my fave cake ready for me, with candles, without needing to be told, bless. Now that's how to run a business. Hey, it's important. If you'd had years of stale Xmas cakes for your birthday you'd be huffy, too.
I shouldn't mention the booty but one friend who has had the worst year of all my friends, a real country and western song, took the time and expense to remember my birthday so a package from amazon arrived on the very day containing Brotherhood of the Wolf, which as you know I just loved to bits, so I was so thrilled and touched I cried. She shouldn't have. It was so sweet, and very much appreciated. I also scored two dvds of the trashy yet loveable Lost World, obviously remaindered from the UK with their UK labels, but happily zone 0 and those pesky Saint dvds finally arrived. Score. Finished off the day watching Roswell in bits while taking the tree down (and washing up).
Tried to rewatch Roswell as I got up this morning but kept missing the same bits and then I forgot my keycard and the security guy wouldn't believe I worked there because I don't actually have any ID yet so we had to go up to my desk where I showed him all the faxes piled atop it marked attention me and he inisted on seeing my passport to compare names (yeah, that's me, The Mad Bomber Who Bombs At Midnight). Oy. Then I sat down and started seeing what had piled up on my one day off. Oy...and one more condescending email from co-worker X and they'll find the Prof. Henry Higginms 'tood is going to land them their slippers shoved up their arse sideways. Assuming the code is correct, indeed. Hmph. It's not my code that's the problem, buster. Double hmph. Yep, I'm back at work, after a magical weekend. Oh well, couldn't last. Can't even have a cup of tea without interuptions so day dreaming is right out. Sigh.
Forgot to mention that the lorikeets have discovered the birdfeeder. More of an xmas present for the birdies than for mother and her garden, it's like a big cermanic dinner plate suspended like a hanging basket from one of the trees. It's cute to watch them, some like to hang upside down to drink and if you get a big group it starts oscillating wildly until they all fly off to wait for it to stop swinging so fast. Cute.
On another note, my fave cousin has just whelped a bairn, only we didn't get the news until nearly a month after the event, thank you Royal Mail. Want to know how hard it is to send a bear from here to there via the internet after Xmas. Especially with Amazon out of stock, and attempts to search on google come up with this. Sigh. Mutter.