Dec. 23rd, 2016

mockturle06: merlin in a hat (Default)

Well, my nerdgasm ornament arrived from Ebay, but I couldn’t manage a decent photo of it last night, though I may, once I get a chance to have at it with Photoshop, post the one that looked like some dystopian tableau. ‘I don’t get it, is it avant garde’, to quote Buffy (sadly no longer do I own any BTVS ornaments).

My phone actually died, good and proper it’s dead Jim, shuffled off this mortal coil, shagged out after a long squawk, gone to the choir eternal died, and at first I thought, bugger, like I have time to get a new phone when I’m already waving the white flag over trying to get shopping done in-between long days/nights and mad deadlines. Then I realised if I couldn’t pick up a new phone the office couldn’t call me over the break. I did such a heartfelt dance of seasonal joy my phone rebooted itself an hour or so later. Sigh (though it does mean I am once again in temporary possession of my photos).

What else? Oh, you know, usual 2016 stuff. Damn nearly got taken out by some maniac driver doing the most illegal turn into a bus lane on a one way street the wrong way on red this morning. Like, way to try and finish the job. So that’s got me all hands shaky (this time I saw him and jumped, so he only drove through the hem of my skirt, which was an a-line one fer once so it flared out – ole!). Very near miss. This town, eh?

The other day I had my own private thunderstorm that pelted down solely for the duration of my travelling from the bus doors to my front door, lightning all over the place. By the time I was standing, dripping, in the kitchen the sun was shining.

Still, I did get to look right up the black swirling chimney of my own personal storm cell and it looked just like those swirling clouds you see painted on the ceilings in Europe, only without all the naked bums and thighs (dammit). Thought for a minute it was going to sweep me off to t’other Oz, but no such luck on that front, either (the only way I’m going to get to travel, alas).

My anticipated 12 Days of Chris film festival fell over. I saw like 20 minutes of one filum, 10 minutes of another, and my dvd player is dusty – thank you end of year deadlines. Sigh. Would really have like to have indulged in that bit of silly because, you know, it’s been a bit bumpy this year.

I did hit play on a Youtube video of some old interview, though, and made the possum scream again. I don’t know why Chris Pine, of all people, sets the possum off like that, but he does, and it’s very useful, I suppose, as possum repellent (not just a pretty face).

The possum has no problem with Tom Ellis or Benedict Cumberbatch, if you’re interested. I’ve checked, in the interests of science.

Speaking of ‘so how does this make you feel’, I did catch Princess Bride on telly last Friday. Thank you Channel 11. I was pretty much hanging onto the frayed bits at the end of my rope when, skimming through the guide for something to put on while I had an apres horror commute cuppa, I found that. Yay and yay again. Still a fave. Can still quote it off by heart, too (which pleases me, I completely blanked on the name of Mina Harker’s BFF yesterday, it’s Lucy, btw, if you need to know).

So, yeah, sadly no theatre (ack, I missed several things I really wanted to see), work, work, work (even though I’m supposed to be on short weeks and there was supposed to be a shutdown) and the usual desperate scavenger hunt Himself sends me on every year with his list of impossible things (one thing he asked for this year isn’t released until 23 Dec so no way will it be on the shelves, the little crazy making bastard).

I would like to thank the nice guy in the record shop and the nice guy in the groovy bookshop for helping me find the weird and obscure. You are cool guys who managed to make it look easy. Oh, this rare volume, it’s just over here….

I deeply suspect he always asks for stuff he couldn’t find himself, so he’s gonna be surprised at my best ever hit rate this year. Again, thank you cool beardy hipster shop guys.

Too bad Amazon don’t deliver to Oz any more. Fortunately there’s still Ebay, and, as I said, cool and supernaturally competent hipsters propping the old bricks and mortar shopfronts. Besides, if you haven’t sweated in a 2km long queue at the height of summer, you haven’t done your seasonal shopping properly.

Addendum: Did some more last minute shopping last night. Yikes. This article pretty much covers the horror: http://www.smh.com.au/comment/angry-sydney-is-at-its-absolute-worst-in-the-week-before-christmas-20161222-gtgnjj.html

Himself is of good cheer, but I’m finding it hard to care. Probably because my shopping today was two pillows and a box of advil. After two months, this extreme headache can go, really it can go.

Meanwhile, missed the solstice (damn) and missed my possum. I didn’t hear the little fella stagger in this morning (and one can always tell the sort of night the possum’s had, depending on whether it skips or stomps, the moody beast).

Anyhoo, I hope that was yon critter crossing my path in the dark as I walked up the unlit street to the main road because otherwise I’ll feel guilty for torturing small furry creatures with Chris Pine (being a moody, bored, fed up and passive aggressive wee bugger in most interviews except when he’s being oh so earnest and serious or completely off-the-wall gonzo, there is no inbetween, or, indeed, ahem, a happy medium – someone hates press tours).

Maybe it was the cats. Every time I open my door these days there’s a cat sitting there, like ‘hello, I heard there was an elderly spinster in residence?’ The cheek of them.

So, much like the rest of the world (except that 1%), I’m tired, I’m hurt (far more than I ever expected to be), I’m cruel (to small furry creatures who keep me awake all night and pee on my posters) and I’m just not feeling it. The milk of human kindness is orf, luv.

And it’s been three days and I haven’t had a chance to finish off the last three pages in my notebook. That burns, too. Sure, it’s stupid, but it’s the only hobby I have left. And it’s been hard. Tried for an hour on Saturday and spent two days in bed shaking with pain because it hurts so bad, and writing makes it hurt the worst, don’t know why, just does.

So, not happy. Tomorrow I think it might have to be the moscato, mince pies and all three Star Trek (Kelvinverse) movies. Because.

Meanwhile, links to stuff I found interesting on the interwebs: https://plus.google.com/u/0/113197665355692280218/posts

PS. Possums are protected under law so I would never hurt the blighter, but being an annoying room-mate, playing loud videos when it's trying to sleep, well, that just happens. It goes both ways.

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