mockturle06 | all is for the best in the best of all possible worlds (Reply)

Hey ho there. Trip stuff later, cause I haven't got my pics organised yet and what's a picture post without pictures, right? The Space Needle: A study in 10,000 pictures, coming your way - heh.

So, anyway, the whole White Collar debacle. Only a handful of pics from the Paley thing posted thus far, so it wasn't as painful as I thought it'd be, and yesterday, I was so distressed I was actually running a high fever like some gothic heroine, I mean, how ridiculous, but there I was. It was nothing but a glorified con panel, nevertheless, I was feeling thwarted and punished, I must say. Not that I have any right to view these things, but sometimes I do make myself believe there must be more to life than washing socks, that grim bus ride in the morning, ending up ankle deep in feral cat shit just walking through the gate, that sort of thing.

Now it's all over I'm kind of crashing, and I suppose I have been running on Bomer vapours since September, and it has carried me through all the merde with the neighbours, the feral cats, the council, the bus, the friends moving interstate, the ostracisation, the hot water heater, the plumbing, the wiring, the garden, the data loss, and work, oh yes, work, where three ministers quit just while I was away, which should tell you something, I hope, about the perilous state of things.

Alas, no more, but it was a good run. Now I just have to face up to dull reality, the paying of bills, the unpacking and plugging in of the new dvd-r, all that stuff. Some people might be thrilled over a new toy but I just look at the seething viper's nest of cables, cite jetlag and retire with a book, though last night I did switch the telly on for a bit and found Winchesters on cable, which cheered me a little.

That was one of the theories I had about the whole thing, especially the near misses, that the fates were sweating blood to avoid yet another unfortunate fan encounter and that I really should be grateful reality hasn't been allowed to intrude in on the illusion. And perhaps I will be grateful, in time. Not that I ever learn, though I did have to duck behind a ming vase like some French farce to avoid Mr Law, which I found vaguely hilarious (and honestly, Jude, we've had this conversation before, if you don't like the bad headlines there is something you can do to avoid them, and it doesn't involve shooting the messenger). To be honest, despite the reaction, I'm still tickled that he was (then) still reading the blog, after all these years, the dear boy. But never mind that, I just feel, you know, it's kind of like bird watching, and the one that got away, you know? I just wanted a glimpse, a shimmer of plummage in the distance. It would have sufficed. Ah well.

And the trip wasn't so bad, though right now the hours and hours and hours spent stuck at airports (once due to weather, twice due to the plane having to be pulled apart and put back together on the tarmac, never, ever flying Delta again, an opinion shared by my countrymen as we gathered in the VA terminal for the flight home, weary travellers indeed), the blisters and the really awful hotel staff at the last place I stayed at loom large and overwhelm the rollicking fun I had on the west coast, hangin' with me mates, feeling like a real person for once, just thrilling in having conversation and being silly, not to mention the stunning galleries and museums, and the wonderful folks I met along the way, like the tour guide on the trip through Brooklyn, who was telling me all about Queens, since it's looking like old Increase Beale was a Quaker from Queens (I know, an American connection, my head is still spinning).

Highlights included that magnificent curry house in Seattle, the Bijou Hotel in San Francisco, the penny arcade museum in SF (OMG!) and the parks in NYC.

I haven't watched anything since I got back, for obvious reasons, but I've caught up on Doctor Who and I was working my way through Justified (the only Matt and Tim I'll watch at the moment, and, yeah, I'm sure there were good reasons, and it's all for the best in this best of all possible worlds, but I reserve the right to be mighty peeved and remain so for some time to come until I get over it, possibly sometime around mid July).

Anyhoo, Who, yes, I adore so much. In fact I saw some episodes so many times over, albeit cut to ribbons on BBC America, like from apple to fish custard? Really? So it's hard to impart the joy and delight of first viewing, but I loved the Coupling dialogue in the angels episode and the trees in the spaceship was so barmy, I just loved it. Overall, I just adored the Troughton-y feel to this series. I heart it hardcore, and trust me, when you're miserable with dreadful cramps and disappointment in a hotel room and Troughton Who is your go to tv comfort food, you'e no idea how much I wanted to hug these episodes. I almost wept with joy, in fact, I think I did. Just what the doctor ordered, you might say. Well, that and finding PG Tips in the Village, and a wee bottle of something Scottish and medicinal in the lower east side. Enjoyed the vampires in Venice one (though it made slightly more sense in the ABC vers) and, well, I was dealing with disasters during the Silurian one so I can't comment but I wasn't much impressed but they can't all be corkers. I even liked the weird dream one, it was very, very Hartnell, to my mind.

Overall though, yay.

Justified? Well, the episode I saw on the fuzzy wee tv in SF was deep into the series so I was kinda lost, but having viewed the first four episodes now, all I can say is yowza. Timothy Olyphant is the sex, absolutely, and I watch a great many tv westerns, as you may have noticed, and nobody does the whole high noon thing like young Tim, and I mean nobody. Oh my. I do wish they'd stop referencing Gunsmoke though, because I always go imediately to Maverick's exceedingly wicked pisstake "Gunshy" and, well, that just ruins it. Though it doesn't really matter, as the often inappropriate humour of Justified cracks me up big time, like squealing with giggles at 2am in the morning, oh dear (then it was fine, it was going out to wash socks at dawn that took out the dvd-r, halfway through #5, which was just sinking the slipper, imho). Btw, if you knew the millipede that is 'im indoors wot manages to take up four rungs worth of line with his damn socks every week you'd know why I grind my teeth about the washing of the socks, just fyi.

Anyway, Justified: yay. (And thank you). Oh, Human Target is abiding the tech issues, as is The Traveller, which I was so extraordinarily, wonderfully, delightfully squee over getting and will still no doubt enjoy, lead dipshit notwithstanding (hell hath no fury, etc, etc). I could watch them if I hooked up a disk drive to wee pc, but to be honest, I think I'll wait until I get the cables sorted. Oy. What can I say? I want my Human Target bangs to be big.

What I did see, twice, and I squealed over in utter delight and desperately need to get my hands on more was Good Guys. Oh. My. God. This is everything the American version of Life on Mars should have been, but wasn't, and, my gosh, I think Matt Nix has seen Hot Fuzz more times than all me mates pout together and I don't care because this was like the best show ever. Not that I was especially sober when I switched it on for my first viewing but it just kept unfolding as expected and ticking every silly box and I was their bitch before we got anywhere near the AckerDacker soundtracked car chase, and if they don't licence the music for overseas distribution there will be hell to pay because nothing else will do for that scene.

Okay, Colin Hanks playing uptight middleaged cops was hurty but he does it so well and Brad Whitford, well, consider yourself totally redeemed after that dreadful eco-bore with Rupes, my good man. I mean, honestly, can you ever imagine Gene Hunt suddenly becoming a restrained and conservative performance? I just have to think of Brad now and I crack up. I do believe I have a fave new tv cop - heh. And a fave new cop buddy show. Oh, it's so silly and I love it so. Please don't cancel it, though USA Today already had it cancelled, the bastards. I love this show, let me have a dozen or so episodes at least (the joke may wear thin after that, but it is magnificent).

So that's it, really. TV good, life a disaster, trip the best and worst of times, as they often are. Blisters and bitterness will fade, leaving only chocolately curry memories of happiness, I am sure. I'm just tired, I guess. Not every trip can be as sparkly as that last one to London. Sigh.

My hour for tea is half-past five, and my buttered toast waits for nobody.

all is for the best in the best of all possible worlds

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