Michelle drove me to St. E's last night, and now my stitches are out.
Between going there and coming back, the whole process took about an hour, and by the time we got home, Lost was halfway through. So, rather than starting in the middle and rewinding later, I took a shower and waited for the whole episode to finish recording.
I really enjoyed "The Constant"--yes, sappy tearful ending and all (in fact, I did cry when Desmond finally got Penny on the phone). I took the whole as tribute to Kurt Vonnegut--Slaughterhouse Five particularly--except that the result (at present, anyway) seems much happier for Desmond Hume than for Billy Pilgrim. And I want Desmond's part of the story to have a good ending, though it doesn't appear that he's one of "the Oceanic 6"; I'm so sick of losing the characters that I actually like.
And then my VCR clipped off the ending (because ABC's schedule always seems to run a little off whenever they run two episodes of Lost back-to-back). So today I went in search of the last sixty seconds of the episode to find out what Daniel was reading in his journal.
"If anything goes wrong, Desmond Hume will be my constant."
The character Daniel Faraday is sort of adorable in a grown-up-stoner kind of way. The episode trailers always make whatever he says seem mysterious and vaguely threatening; but when I hear the lines again in the episodes' contexts, he just sounds dazed and confused all the time.
Also watched Torchwood's "A Day in the Death" before going to the hospital. I want to care about Owen, but ... meh? Next week's episode looks exciting.
On another topic, a realty agent sent me an email last weekend (I think my parents have been submitting my name and email), to which I responded at my leisure--with the full story of "taking my time, seeing what's out there, p.s. have a snowboard injury and indisposed for a bit." She's now sent me a list of properties and wants to know when I'd be free to see some of them.
This all feels far too grown up for me.
But I wonder if my aunt still wants me to visit this weekend; because, if not ... a few open-houses could be fun.
Showing posts with label Torchwood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Torchwood. Show all posts
29 February 2008
unstuck in time
19 December 2007
saved by the UK
I love Hot Chip. Or maybe I just love Hot Chip's "Over & Over" ... YES.
I've loved this song since, oh, last Fall. And I still love it. I can hear it every day and it makes me happy. Kind of like The Automatic's "Monster."
Both songs make me think of Torchwood, which is maybe a good portion of the happiness--and, right now especially, the antici- ... -pation (who loves Rocky Horror? oh, right--I do). The new Torchwood season begins next month, and the Doctor Who Christmas special is right around the corner.
Hey, we all need things to look forward to. Me, I look forward to new David Tennant and John Barrowman fixes from the BBC during Hollywood's woeful dry spell. (PAY THE WRITERS NOW, PLEASE. KTHXBYE.)
What else is on my mind this morning? Politics.
Television and politics--well, it works for Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert.
Mostly, I'm just a little irritated by a web site that I was invited to look at. They're polling the public for the 2008 Presidential race, but they've excluded Ron Paul from the polls, and make a big [highly animated] point of letting everyone know this up front. It's not that I even like Ron Paul. I'm not going to be voting for him, because I think he's an idiot. At this point, I'm so disgusted with all of them, I might do a write-in (that won't be counted, because individual votes don't really count for beans in the US Presidential race, if we're really being honest about it).
But I think the owner of the site is a bigger idiot for excluding Paul. If you're really interested in clean poll results, you won't exclude any candidate, no matter how much you dislike him or his followers. If you're not interested in clean poll results, why take the time to create a web site devoted just to the poll? Isn't it a waste of time and energy for something that doesn't really matter to you?
OK. End irritable ramble.
09 November 2007
NaNoWriMo means:
Alcohol and caffeine.
The afternoon before yesterday I went to TJ's as promised. Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon, Muscat, and Mead ... bitter chocolate ... and chocolate-covered espresso beans.
Had an amusing conversation with the guy at the check-out about the joys of warmed alcohol after I had "informed" him about the fact that they stock mead (and by "informed," his word and not mine, bought a bottle of the stuff, so clearly it must exist somewhere--next to the muscat, port, and sake, specifically). He was quite amazed with the sachets of mulling spice that come conveniently attached the bottle.
I had some of the Cab last night, but noticed that I hadn't finished the glass when I woke up this morning; and, against my experience and better judgment, I swigged what was left (not a lot, thankfully, ugh--wine, it doth a body good, when it's not been sitting around all night).
I wrote a couple decent paragraph prompts on the T this morning, so I'm cutting it short here to go do that instead.
Lay back. Think of Torchwood.
20 February 2007
weekend in a bottle
John and Rodney came up to Boston from New Jersey for the long weekend; I hadn't seen either of them since ... October (ouch), and it was good to catch up and hang out.
On Friday night, we (Rohnia, Michelle, and Ian) piled into Ian's car and drove to the Atrium mall. Our original intention was to go to dinner at the Cheesecake Factory, because it's awesome and Michelle has never been there before, but when we arrived they were very busy. 75-minute-wait busy.
So we went back downstairs to Bertucci's instead--not a bad second choice for food, and no waiting line to speak of.
On Saturday morning I woke up early, as I usually do when company is around--not because the company wakes up early, but really just because I get excited about the possibilities for the day. And it was also sunny, and I don't sleep well in a well-lit room.
...
I checked my e-mail and found that Arkaidy had updated a fifteenth chapter to her "Across Time" work. So I went there and started reading...
And then did a little dance at my desk, because my blog and I were mentioned in the Author's Note. I'm a motivator! (Well, after telling him about the Author's Note over coffee a little while later, Rodney said that I am, in fact, an "enabler" because he couldn't leave the positive spin on the situation alone.)
Still, I am so happy that--in spite of the pains of life, family, and school--she didn't drop the plot. I really would've sat around forever waiting for a continuation, no matter where that happened to go.
That being said, I really do like where the plot has been going and how it's been narrated. If you put yourself into the main character's shoes, at the beginning of this fifteenth chapter, you're quite certain that she's not crazy, that she really did travel through time. But as the chapter goes along, you start to doubt. And you feel that she starts to doubt herself too.
And right up until the point where Zeus shows up out of nowhere, I was starting to be afraid that it was going to go that way. A silly fear, in retrospect, considering the Interlude of the fourteenth chapter.
"I watched enough cheesy YTV kid's programs to know that a person could be physically in one place and mentally in another."
That particular line made me think of The Odyssey--a show from Canada about a boy in a coma who goes to another reality, and the events in the alternate reality sort of mirror the events of the reality wherein his body is in a coma.
Though, I had also considered the possibility that the main character was bodily in the past, and, when thrown back to the present, fell into a coma that happened to be the same amount of time. Maybe. The time paradox can be so interesting to think about--even when impossibly infuriating.
And the fact that Strife is still godly in the present, but is unaware of it through his amnesia, also helps the case for Vega's being unaware of godliness up to this point. It stands to reason that the gods (in this telling, at least), don't feel anything particular about their godhood--or don't know that they're feeling anything out of the ordinary, at least.
Vega and Strife are both told that they're normal people, and because they don't know to expect anything else, they don't--and have no way of finding out without another god's intervention. Enter Zeus.
... But I do wonder about Strife; his reaction to Vega is complete disbelief in the fifteenth chapter, but I imagine him with that personality type where he'd try to test the limits. Poof something. Then again, if people have been visiting him and lying to his face, it would probably be very easy to dismiss an apparently crazy girl.
Mmm. Can't wait for the next chapter.
...
Saturday night, we went to India Quality and Cornwall's in Kenmore Square for Michelle's birthday. I'd never been to either one, but they're both pretty fantastic. The food at India Quality is top notch and the staff is very attentive. Cornwall's is pretty low-key; mid scale decor like T's Pub, and a quiet atmosphere like the Dugout (well, when it's not baseball season, at least). I love that they have so many board games available.
Becca, Rodney, and I played Scrabble while the rest of our tables played Chutes and Ladders and Clue. We tried to make it "Adult" Scrabble, but the minute you decide you're going to try to be dirty, the letters aren't going to cooperate with you at all.
Sunday night continued the theme of drinking--but at home. The five of us ordered pizza and played a very long drinking game. Well, the game itself didn't take that long, but we played quite a few rounds. Fun, but very bad for my liver, I feel.
On Monday, we went to First Degree in the band room and then out to lunch with the chapter at Sunset. We also would've gone to Trader Joe's afterward, but the traffic around the market was horrendous, so we just went home instead.
Then, after an afternoon of Stargate and the first episode of Torchwood, the boys gave their farewells and drove back to Highland Park, New Jersey.
I miss them already. Really, I missed them two minutes after they'd gone.
16 January 2007
digging for the truth
It's a slogan that The History Channel has pasted all over the MBTA Green Line trains (I can't speak for the other lines, as I don't see them very often). It's a sentiment that would seem to express serious scholastic interest, but none of the accompanying images really match up.
"Digging for the truth" apparently means taking part in adventure sport--hang-gliding over lost civilizations that bear a striking resemblance to scenery from King Kong and Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest, rock-climbing the face of large old statues (that, amazingly, aren't so old that they crumble or self-destruct under the stress and pressure of human weight), and base-jumping (or perhaps sky-diving, I couldn't tell) out of helicopters. ... But no actual "digging," no, not as such.
I had a lot of time to contemplate these advertisements over the three-day weekend (because I work at a university, and Martin Luther King Jr. received his doctorate here--if we didn't celebrate Martin Luther King Day as a proper holiday, what would people think?).
Saturday I spent indoors, watching DVDs from Netflix and some episodes of Psych that I had downloaded from iTunes. I also began to rearrange and tidy up my book-shelves, trying to give the madness a recognizable method--important since there are things I can't find that I really wish I could.
Like my sketch books or my votive candles. I had a whole bag of votives, and now I have no idea where they are. I really hope they're not in my closet (a whole other barrel of worms--yes, a barrel), but the fact that I dread even attempting to search there probably means that that's exactly where they are.
But speaking of Psych, the long mid-season pause (a pause of several months, as the last new episode was back in August) is nearly over; there's going to be a new episode airing this Friday. I'm looking forward to the continuation and hope that the series is picked up for another season. Blasphemy, but I like it better than Monk.
I nearly stayed indoors again on Sunday, but outside forces were at work that would change my mind midway through the day. Numerous instant messages overnight from my mother guilted me into inspired me to call my parents. My mother was happy to find that I'd been making use of the iTunes gift card they'd given me for Christmas (those television episodes). She also wanted to know my extended weekend plans, which had basically been put on the shelf due to inclement weather, and I said as much.
Then my father got on the phone and gave me a pep-talk--you know the kind. Don't let bad weather discourage you, get out there with an umbrella and enjoy the time, etc. It's a very easy pep-talk to give when your own weather is not shit (they live in North Carolina, and enjoyed a sunny and mild weekend). So I said in a very noncommittal way that I would get out of my apartment, and he seemed nonetheless satisfied with that unenthusiastic response.
They rung off, and I surprised even myself by actually doing what I said I would. I ate a quick lunch and left the house, North Station my destination--and arrived there at about 1:45 PM. I bought a round-trip ticket at the booth, and took the Rockport train out of Boston at 2:15 PM, which is how I ended up spending a rainy afternoon in Salem, MA.
While there, I [finally] bought Christmas presents for my flat-mates at a shop on Derby St. called Witch Ways: a sun-and-moon themed wind-chime for Michelle and an opalescent "witch ball" for Stephanie (they call it that because it's meant to protect a home from malevolent forces, but to me it looks like a pretty glass-blown Christmas ornament). After that, I went farther down to Ye Olde Pepper Candy Companie, the oldest candy company in America (open since 1806), and bought truffles--because I really like their truffles and thought they would be nice to accompany the gifts.
Christmas crises over with, I walked back toward Pickering Wharf, and stopped in at Cafe Jaho for a cappuccino and some writing--and, though I hadn't really expected much of myself, I got a fair amount of writing done. It needs editing, as the characterization of my main character is a little off for the scene (though I haven't dealt with him in 50,000 words, so that's not very surprising); but I like what I've done with the secondary character, so it wasn't a wasted or fruitless effort.
I didn't leave Salem until nearly 6:00 PM, and walked around taking pictures in the dark until the next inbound train was due to arrive.
Some of them turned out better than others.
Yesterday morning, as I was getting ready to go out into the rain again, the doorbell rang. It was the postman with my purchases from Amazon.co.uk--the three new books based on the Torchwood series. I unwrapped them, enjoyed the sight of them for a few minutes (when you line up the three separate book spines they make a picture of the whole team), and put Another Life in my bag for T reading material.
I spent the afternoon at the CambridgeSide Galleria, and bought a new protective case for my iPod (a black and red leather folio that I saw at the Apple Store in Raleigh, NC over Christmas break and had been coveting ever since, regardless of the U2-connection).
Shopping confession two, I feel, requires preamble to justify the purchase--one that the majority of my friends will still feel is not an adequate justification; but if they're really my friends they'll forgive the rather "preppy" vanity involved. I don't generally shop at Abercrombie & Fitch; it's usually out of my price range, and, quite frankly, most of the clothing is poorly crafted and overpriced for its quality (or lack thereof). I've only shopped their clearance, because that's when I feel that the clothing is actual worth what you're paying.
All that being said, I really like the way Abercrombie & Fitch clothing smells--you know, before the first time you wash it. And, while looking for clothing deals with my mother in the post-Christmas madness, we went into an Abercrombie & Fitch. I ended up buying a sweater and a pair of greenish-gray khakis; and again, I was struck by the fragrance on all of the clothes.
Waiting in line, there was a table beside the check-out counter with bottles of multiple scents, and I picked up the test-bottle of "Classic" on a hunch and spritzed it on a test-strip. Sure enough, "Classic" is what all their clothes smell like. And I wanted it, but I didn't buy it; it seemed like overkill at the time (and I'm sure still seems like overkill to you, dear readers, now).
With that long introduction to the fact, the shorter story is that I went and bought a bottle yesterday at the Galleria. Because I was there, and alone, and had no one in tow to give me judgmental glares about the silliness of such a purchase (you know who you are--yes, all of you, most likely). No, I'm only leaving myself open to criticism after the fact by mentioning it in my blog; but at least this way no one can attempt to talk me out of it.
09 January 2007
on the wampage
Sometimes you find the best things accidentally.
When I arrived home yesterday, Maddigan's Quest was waiting for me in the vestibule. I watched all thirteen episodes last night--my attention divided between watching the television, eating my dinner, and cleaning my room. And speaking of cleaning my room, I'm quite proud of the progress I've made in ridding the floor and surfaces of clutter. My desk and book-shelves require the most attention at present, but all else is reasonably clutter-free.
On Maddigan's Quest again, conveniently the series finished at around 10 PM when I was ready to go to sleep.
Maddigan's Quest - Set in a post-apocalyptic future, Maddigan’s Quest follows the circus troop ‘Maddigan’s Fantasia’, who come from the only remaining city, Solis. Each year, the Fantasia leave Solis to perform and earn a living, but this year is different: they have been set the task of obtaining a new Solar Converter to replace the existing converter – the only power source in Solis – which is failing. At the centre is 14-year-old Garland (Rose McIver) – the final Maddigan. However, as the Fantasia are attacked on their quest, two mysterious boys, Timon (Jordan Metcalfe) and Eden (Zac Fox), appear with their baby sister Jewel. They claim to be from the future, from Solis, where the Fantasia have failed in their quest and the evil, revolting Nennog (Ross Duncan) has taken power. They have come back with a Talisman which appears to give Eden extraordinary powers, to help the Fantasia succeed in their quest. But they also bring danger, in the form of Ozul (Peter Daube) and Maska (Michael Hurst), two men who will stop at nothing to capture the boys. Can the Fantasia protect Timon and Eden, and succeed in their quest to obtain a new solar converter for Solis Maddigan’s Quest is a vivid tale of magic, adventure and time-travel, from the internationally renowned children’s author Margaret Mahy.
I'm determined to watch the series again before I make any great statements about the whole, but I will say that I have two favourite performances from this show--Michael Hurst (Maska) and Jordan Metcalfe (Timon).
Maska is a robot--well, a human head with a metal body--and a sort of underling to Ozul (Peter Daube), but I get the impression that he is the more thoughtful and sensible of the two. Michael Hurst plays the character dead-pan and ruthless, and he devotedly disappears into the role (as he does with every character he plays). The snarking between Maska and Ozul usually winds down to Maska having the last word, and they're always excellently cutting last words.
Timon is a morally ambiguous character; though, at the beginning of the series, he feels very down-to-earth, a conscientious boy-next-door, the would-be hero. That's why he becomes far more interesting when he falters and founders into the villain; it also enables Jordan Metcalfe to exhibit his acting chops. Metcalfe physically looks very young--early teenager, one might expect. However, in the last few episodes of the series, Timon's body is overtaken by a blood-virus that turns him into a reptilian insect creature with evil intent. Basically Metcalfe goes from being would-be hero to Machiavellian villain, and the transition is amazing to watch. It's a slow initial onset that leaves the viewer uncertain about what exactly is happening to him, but the final change is very abrupt and physical.
It was while observing this change that I thought, He can't be a teenager. No way. And he isn't, but it would be easy to make the mistake. He's baby-faced, shorter than average, and his voice is a tenor--but he's twenty-one. Considering what the character has to eventually become, it was a wise choice for the casting director to make.
And now for something completely different (no, not Monty Python's Flying Circus). I was looking for images of Captain Jack Harkness (John Barrowman) of Torchwood--no special reason, I just felt like it--and one of my searches led me to a blog with this:
Consequently, the blog had this too, which also pleased me (since it was what I was looking for in the first place):
03 January 2007
saving those pence
I watched the finale of Torchwood last night, but only after observing the torrent with much frustration for several hours. It was certainly worth the wait.
First of all, BBC Three aired the final episodes (12 and 13) of Torchwood on Monday night. I waited and watched mininova and similar sites, on the lookout for an update and available torrents. A little while before I was getting ready to go to bed, they were suddenly there, so I started them; and, in spite of there being purportedly dozens of seeds, the torrents were downloading very slowly. I huffed and sobbed and eventually went to bed, with the old aphorism of pots boiling running through my brain.
When I awoke the next morning, they were barely half-done downloading. I huffed some more, and went to watch episodes of Arrested Development and Robin Hood and continued to check on my torrents restlessly.
Episode 12, "Captain Jack Harkness" finished at around 7:30 PM, and I eagerly dropped everything else and was fairly hypnotised by my media player for the next fifty minutes. Brief plot: the Jack we know and Toshiko walk through a rift in time in an old abandoned Ritz, and they end up in 1940s Cardiff just before the blitz--where they meet ... Captain Jack Harkness.
First off, the other Captain Jack Harkness is very pretty; this episode was asking for a Jack/Jack snog the moment the audience (and our Captain Jack) was introduced to the other one. Suffice to say, the episode doesn't disappoint in that way at all. It almost makes you believe it's going to disappoint you, but then it doesn't.
Eventually, the rest of the team bring Jack and Tosh back through the rift (with their machine and an incomplete equation). Actually, that's much easier said than done on-screen. Ianto and Owen get into a serious brawl over whether they should or shouldn't use the rift machine without the complete equation (Owen for, and Ianto against). Owen manages to activate the machine, bringing their teammates back through, but Owen doesn't get through that act unscathed. Ianto shoots him in the back, and only barely misses his heart.
"End of Days" is the thirteenth and final episode of this season. The aftershocks of Owen's opening the rift continue to have ill effect on Cardiff and the world. Aliens, Roman soldiers, and peasants carrying the Black Death are coming through the rift and wreaking havoc. Jack blames Owen, and after too much insubordination from Owen, Jack fires him. I also get the feeling that perhaps Jack would've been happier to stay in the 1940s in the previous episode, and is angry that Owen has brought them back at such an expense to humanity.
Throughout the episode the team members see dead loved ones urging them to open the rift--that if they only open the rift entirely, everything will go back to normal. Gwen ends up being the catalyst; her boyfriend Rhys is stabbed to death by the strange Ritz manager from the previous episode, stabbed while Rhys is locked in the Hub (and supposedly safe from harm). Gwen, convinced that she can turn back time and bring her beau back to life, insists upon opening the rift. Jack knows better, but Owen shows up again (after a haunting visit from his lost Dianne) and they all turn on Captain Jack in mutiny. And Owen shoots Jack in the head when the Captain tries to forcibly stop them from turning on the machine.
No, turning on the rift machine was a bad idea. As it turns out, a giant demonic creature lives under the rift, and the team has inadvertently released it and brought on the destruction of man; because any human being standing in the shadow of the monster falls down dead. Well, as he has done in previous episodes, Captain Jack comes back to the land of the living after being shot in the head repeatedly, determined to sacrifice himself for the greater good again.
The final minutes of the episode are fairly biblical. Jack has Gwen drive him out to the hills to meet the demon and tells her to run away. Jack and the giant have a battle of will--the creature's ability to fell anything in its path versus Jack's apparent immortality. There's light and rumbling, and Jack's neverending life-force seems to react with the monster's shadow like a meeting of matter and anti-matter. The creature is consumed in light and disappears, leaving Jack (looking much worse for wear) lying on the hill-top.
Gwen brings his body back to the Hub, and everyone besides her believes Jack is (at last) dead. After assuring herself that Rhys is back and alive, Gwen returns to Jack and sits with him for days. When she seems ready to give up, she kisses him, and starts to walk away. We hear Jack say, "Thank you." And, like Jesus out of the tomb, he's back!
It's a good way to end the season and a real tear-jerker. Everyone's crying and hugging and apologising, and Jack forgives a crying Owen and snogs Ianto. It's just a happy ending.
And then Jack seems to see something that the audience isn't allowed to see, there's a sound--very Tardis-like--and Jack disappears without a trace. Again, like Jesus being collected to Heaven.
Jack is a total Christ figure.
Continuing my need for Torchwood, I went to Amazon.co.uk, and ordered the first two books based on the series: Another Life and Slow Decay, priced at £5.59 each. I also purchased Maddigan's Quest, because I've been meaning to watch it since last January.
However, when I went back to Amazon.co.uk this morning, the books were priced down to £4.89 each; so I cancelled them on the previous order, and re-ordered all three at the new and lower price. Because I value that £2.10--that's $US 4 or so. I can get three cups of coffee out of that at Dunkin' Donuts.
Yes, I'm cheap--but it's Amazon's fault for allowing me to be so. You can cancel anything up until they actually ship it to you; and since they hadn't shipped them yet, I was allowed to cancel and get the discount. And I like getting a discount, especially when I'm paying nearly £10 for shipping and handling (because there's no super saver shipping to the States from the UK).
And a final note to self: Slip the rent check under the landlord's door. While she's a nice lady and won't come to murder you in your sleep, you shouldn't take advantage of that. Stop being forgetful. The End.
02 January 2007
onward and upward
That’s mean and devious and sick. ... We should totally hang out more.
Holidailies has come to a close, and while I didn't complete the 30 entries they would have liked, I did complete at lest 20 entries they expected. Actually, I had 27 for the month, so I fell nicely into a "Satisfactory" category.
Still, I don't think I'm going to kill this journal now that December is over. I will never post everything here that I post in my LiveJournal, but that's for the best.
The quote is from fan fiction. Strife fan fiction. I joined a Yahoo group dedicated to Joel Tobeck's characters, because I love Joel-sama (his IMDb page now has pictures). The members of this group occasionally e-mail their written work to the list. I know it's old hat, but it's kind of awesome to be able to read fan fiction through e-mail.
I also read that my mom is sending me an AV kit for my iPod--a dock and cables that will allow me to hook the iPod to the television and watch iPod videos on a larger screen. She gave my dad one for Christmas (along with a new 80GB iPod), and we used the TV feature to watch Torchwood on the living room's big-screen television. Yes, it's a wee bit pixilated, but not in any way that makes it an unbearable experience. And besides, I rather like being able to watch Torchwood on something besides my computer or my iPod.
Speaking of Torchwood, I'm in the midst of downloading the final episodes of the season. They're going much slower than the last ones, but hopefully they'll get faster as more people obtain them. I also think that having two episodes released on the same evening didn't help this problem. I think it's much easier for people to seed smaller files released a few days apart. Still, I suppose I'll be happy once they're complete.
Yesterday was fairly relaxing (after I finally got home from traveling, that is). I spent the afternoon watching Forever Knight and Arrested Development. The last episode of Forever Knight is fairly disappointing, I have to say; and the second to last episode is also disappointing--they killed Vachon! How could they kill Vachon?! Yes, he has terrible hair (or, at any rate, a terrible wig); but with a decent hair-cut he would have been so handsome. Ben Bass is damned handsome in his own right.
I'd still like to talk more about my vacation and the kinks of travel ("kinks," here, meaning: "annoying" rather than "unexpectedly bizarre and fun"), but that might need to come later in the day, as I'm rather busy this morning.
For those of you in the same boat, welcome back to work, and Happy New Year!
19 December 2006
only partially founded fears
I had been toying with the idea of switching entirely over to Beta Blogger. I had messed around with the click-drag design before, and I just wasn't fond of the "fixed" elements on the page--the boring banner, for one thing. Also, the click-drag method is very archaic and giving me flashbacks of the ever awkward Geocities.
But I really liked the expandable/collapsible archives in the side-bar, and I couldn't get that with the older template. So this morning, with much trepidation, I saved my original template and made the switch. And after doing some web-searching for hacks and code, I've finally managed to make my journal look (sort of) the way it originally was--only with the excellent archiving.
The header was a bit more of a finagle, and I was on the right track in my touch-and-go trial-and-error editing, but I became impatient with myself and found some excellent directions for tweaking the code in another blog.
I still haven't got the widths of the post section and the side bar where I want them, but they're close enough to satisfy me for now.
--------------------
When I was shuffling through some papers in one of my desk drawers yesterday, I finally located my invitation to the BU Holiday Party "Evergreen Dream." One of my coworkers has been urging me to come along since last week; and I had wanted to say that I would, but I thought that I had accidentally thrown the postcard in the bin. Actually, this coworker suggested that I had accidentally tossed it away, but I thought that was rather out of character for me. I never throw anything away, and my desk stands as a monument to this fact--or, at any rate, the clutter piled a foot high on a back corner of my desk should be evidence enough.
So I'll be going the party after work for food and beverages. I'm looking forward to shameless noshing ... and to not having to make my own dinner tonight.
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Torchwood's "Out of Time" was, as predicted, finished downloading when I arrived home last night. It has to be one of the funnier, and also one of the sadder, episodes to date. I think my favourite segment is when Ianto takes the time-travelers shopping. He's in the middle of explaining the magic of the automatically opening door when one of the ladies exclaims, "Bananas!" in sheer delight. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, bananas completely out-rank the technological advances of mankind.
I totally approve of the plot and character development with the Gwen/Rhys relationship. They just can't stay together, in my opinion--not when Gwen can never tell him anything. Judging by the sneak-peek, next Sunday's episode looks like it's going to up that drama quotient.
My only grudge against this episode was that the writers didn't really let us find out anything new about Captain Jack Harkness. Jack was sitting in a carbon monoxide-filled automobile, and he couldn't share anything about himself with a man who's about to die? I don't know if it's due to something truly complex about the character, or if the writers just don't know what they want his entire back story to be yet. Either way, it was kind of frustrating. He's such a lonely character, and his expression was downright heart-breaking as John Ellis was dying.
18 December 2006
fallen by the wayside
So much for updating this blog every day (the Holidaily mandate--which, well, isn't really much of a mandate when you're doing "Holidailies at Home"). The weekend let any blogging get far and away from me.
Saturday was a good time. There were nine of us, in all, the first arriving around nine o'clock; and I think the last of our guests left around 3 a.m. We had a tree and everything. I clearly drank too much, but well, that's what "Milk and Cookies" is for. And we still have a full bar (plus) left over, so no worries.
Our apartment finally got around to washing and using the glass set that John had given us. It was very classy.
Sunday was a day for vegetating--after the liver-abuse of Saturday night/Sunday morning.
I was able to watch the first two episodes of Arrested Development but the third one is still glitching, so I'll probably have to wait on the torrent for a while. Actually, I was surprised that it let me watch the first two episodes anyway. Usually they're all finicky until the files are fully complete.
Then, I was obsessively checking mininova.org over and over again last night, because Torchwood's "Out of Time" aired at 9 p.m. on BBC Three, and factoring in whatever amount of time it takes for the creation of .avi and .... COFFEE TIME! ... Ahem. As I was saying before the coffee interlude, the episode availability of the torrent is always affected by the air time, the five hour time difference in the UK, plus the time it takes for the creation of the files and their torrents.
I ended up finding the new torrent at around 2130 ET and started it, but it was slow-going since nobody was really seeding it yet. This morning, however, it was going at up to 90 kbps and predicting 40 minutes to go (that was over two hours ago); so it'll probably be waiting for me when I get home. I love new episodes. Can't wait.
We also might be doing some Christmas shopping tonight, which is good since I still want to get a few people gifts.
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What's new with Netflix?
I received Hairspray on Friday and Highlander 2: The Renegade Edition on Saturday. Both of these movies are truly awful, but have some really funny moments and/or characters.
Divine, for one. Who is Divine? A man who chose to look like a very strange woman some of the time (or most of the time), and often worked with director John Waters. I love how (s)he was the mother and the crabby racist TV station owner in Hairspray--though I didn't really make the connection until one of the final scenes when the two characters are yelling at each other, and I noticed the peculiar similarity between their disturbing and unnaturally arching eye-brows.
And I know that Waters is from Baltimore, and that it's his cult-movie trademark to set all of his movies there, but ... Baltimore?
The movie inspired me to download Gene Pitney's "Town Without Pity" ... And, speaking of music downloads (while returning to a favourite subject), John Barrowman has a lot of musicals under his belt (among other things), so I took a lot of those too. And I'm tempted to rent De-lovely again (though I didn't like it very much), just to watch his duet with Kevin Kline on "Night and Day." Maybe I can find the clip on YouTube or something ...
And speaking of YouTube, musicals, and John Barrowman ...
I'm a big fan of that defabricator thing--you know, provided it's being used properly and on the proper people. I also love how he nakedly pulls that blaster out of, hmm, yes, nowhere.
As for Highlander 2, Sean Connery is really the only redeeming part of this movie. His scenes are the most entertaining in the entire film--which doesn't fit into Highlander canon (or reality) in any way. It just doesn't. I realize that complaining about lack of realism where this fandom is concerned is ridiculous to begin with, but they seem to break their own rules. Whereas before, there's some mysticism to the whole immortal business, in this movie they decide that these guys are actually aliens brought to Earth to battle it out until there's only one left.
Umm. Okay. So what about when Connor "died" in the Highlands in the first movie? Did he know he was an alien? Because I didn't get that impression at all. And if the flashbacks in H2 are meant to be after the historic events of the first movie, then why is Ramirez (Sean Connery) still alive? The alien crap just doesn't make sense.
Also, the "modern" setting of this film is 2024, wherin the Earth has been covered by a shield for twenty-five years to protect everyone from the sun's radiation. Only, as it turns out, the shield is completely unnecessary after twenty-five years--except that "there's no way of knowing!"
One, I'm pretty sure that solar radiation is easier to detect than this movie is leading its audience to believe; so the whole idea that "there's no way to be sure" is a load of tripe. Two, if the ozone layer became so depleted that people needed to put up a shield, it wouldn't revitalize in 25 years. It just wouldn't, especially if people kept burning fossil fuel under the shield. The problem wouldn't just happen to fix itself within a quarter of a century, not after thousands of years of damage.
Stupid premise. Stupid attempt at explaining the immortal thing. Poor-man's Jack Nicholson (Michael Ironside) as General Katana (Katana? Really?). Weird porcupine people. Huge deviations from canon.
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And this is the kind of entry you get from me after two days of nothing.
12 December 2006
damning the man
When I arrived home yesterday afternoon, there was a box leaning against the front door waiting for me. And another box inside on the mail table near the entryway.
The larger box from outside was a region-free DVD player from my mom and dad. The smaller box was the spatula I had ordered from cooking.com for my mother (free shipping on anything, no matter how small, when you buy with PayPal!)--weird and seemingly gender-stereotyped gift, I know, but she asked for it specifically, so she's getting it.
When I first opened the DVD box, I was a little wary about what I had received (the packaging says Region 1 all over it). But upon closer inspection, I spied a tiny sticker that said the player had been modified to play all regions. Sweet.
So I pulled the plug on my DVD/VCR unit and placed the new--and smaller--unit on top (this situation reminded me of the Foxworthy "you might be a redneck" ramble ... only they're not old TVs, so I don't think it counts--though the fact that they're sitting on top of my micro-fridge might make it count). The new one doesn't have the same hook-up as my Sony, the general single-prong cable plug. It has the old red/white/yellow three-part cable; and, on my peculiar Sylvania television, that connection is at the front rather than the back ... but the cable is long enough, so I had no trouble putting everything where it needed to be. And, having tested on a region four disc and a region two disc, all works splendidly.
Yes, I am no longer restrained by the intentional restrictions of the movie distribution industry, able to watch whatever I want that comes from wherever I want. It's awesome.
I, of course, then proceeded to ogle my Amazon.co.uk wish-list for a good while. Mmm. DVDs.
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Torchwood's "Random Shoes" was so damn sad. And there was not nearly enough Jack! ... And it was just a really, really sad episode. And, without giving too much away about the plot, the vague description of the mystery e-bay bidder makes me think it was Jack (yes, beanie babies habit and all), though that's never actually answered in the plot.
I also began watching the tenth episode of Robin Hood (yes, another BBC production)--began, but didn't finish, because our apartment ordered-in and had fat-sandwiches and fro-yo for dinner. YUM! (What are fat sandwiches? you might ask. They're subs that are stuffed with every bad thing under the sun--fries, chicken fingers, mozzarella sticks, onion rings, etc. If it's fried and awful for you, it can be put on a fat sandwich.)
Returning to the subject of telly, maybe Robin Hood is a tired concept, but it's a pretty damn funny show, actually. I'm just not sure if it's supposed to be funny where I'm laughing. And I still like Torchwood better. And, happily, I've been informed (via comment in this entry) that Torchwood is getting another season! Shows that I love actually aren't being cancelled. It's cause for celebration, I tell you.
To obtain these shows, I've been using iPodnova.net because the files are smaller than they tend to be with other sites I've used, and I can use the videos with iTunes and my iPod. I still haven't managed to get the first or second episodes of Robin Hood to finish; but they're still going, so I'm hopeful.
I'm also downloading the first season of the new Doctor Who, 40 hours to go, and the first season of Arrested Development, which reads that it still has five days to go.
Yes, I'll probably kill my hard-drive one of these days.
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And, ooh! ooh! We have a Christmas tree! It was just delivered by my flat-mate's friend's dad last night, and I'm guessing we'll be decorating it tonight. Very excited.
11 December 2006
blinded by your daylight
I hope "Random Shoes" is finished downloading when I get home. I need my new John Barrowman fix of the week.
Honestly, I don't know what I'm going to do if the show isn't picked up for another season. Cry or something--the "something" probably being pathetically watching the thirteen available episodes over and over again.
And getting the novels from Amazon.co.uk.
And obsessively reading fanfiction (like I'm not already doing that).
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Should I feel guilty about not wanting to exercise with somebody else?
A coworker of mine asked me if I was going to join the university gym this season. I said that I might, and she said she was looking for an "exercise buddy"--you know, the person who's supposed to drag you to the gym even when you don't feel like it.
I was wishy-washy in my response, mainly because I'm not a big fan of exercising with other people. Instead, I asked when she thought she would like to make a habit of going, and she said that she wanted to go from 8 to 9 in the morning.
... *Alarm!* I like getting to work by 7 so I can leave by 3 and get some daylight out of the day, not easily done this time of year in Boston when the days are so short.
I asked if going to the gym after work would be possible, but she said that doesn't work for her because she has class from 6 to 7.
(And if she were like me, and left at 3 every day, that would be plenty of time to exercise before going to class.) I didn't say that, however; I did say that I prefer coming to work earlier.
In the end she just said, "Oh," and left me standing at the mail machine feeling like the most awkward person in the history of ever.
But, when I was thinking on it later over the weekend, I decided that it was just as well. I'm not a social person to begin with--so why should I be a social exerciser? Whenever I exercise with my parents, I end up killing myself trying to "keep up" with them. And when I exercise with people who are less physically fit, I feel like I "dumb down" my own workout to suit them. It just leaves me cranky, and exercise isn't supposed to make you cranky--it's supposed to give you a lift.
Ending conclusion? For the anti-social individual, iPods make better gym buddies than other human beings.
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Several of my parents' college friends and coworkers send out mass-produced holiday newsletters. They're usually poorly formatted, poorly written, and possessing some crappy pixelated border that may or may not suit the season.
I know it's more in-depth than a card, gives you a better idea of what's going on with so-and-so and all their little sos-and-so. But it's kind of peculiar, isn't it?
It's like you have a fan-club and a generator of addresses. And all you have to do is print off all these unpersonalized essays, a sheet or two of address labels, and then it's done. And you didn't have to think about it at all. I know that's also a part of the charm, but it's just so impersonal.
This judgment-call coming from one who rarely (if ever) mails a letter to anyone.
Yes, so maybe so-and-so's crappy newsletter is better than my nothing.
10 December 2006
high and dry
The title is in reference to where the Holidailies hub has left us for today--promptless. I am thus abandoned and neglected, and my topic must fend for itself and decide what it wants to be. My topics are a lot like me, however: indecisive, ever changing, and always procrastinating.
Granted, I've been mostly ignoring the Holidaily prompts, or twisting them to suit my purposes. But I like having that option of ignoring something.
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My morning has been terribly lax. Toast, tea, and milk in bed. And Torchwood.
I was re-watching "Countrycide" this morning, the sixth episode of the series. It's like The Hills Have Eyes, but set in the Welsh countryside--and focusing more on the team-members of Torchwood rather than the crazy rural cannibals. I made some screencaps ... and four icons.
John Barrowman has the best teeth ever. Seriously. The man has perfectly white, straight teeth. And nearly vampiric canines. Just awesome and unbelievable teeth.
I've been downloading songs and bands that have been featured on the show so far, because the music in the first episode inspired me. I think it was Snow Patrol's "Spitting Games" that set me off on the music search. And it just so happens that wikipedia has an episode log for the series, and a music list for each episode. Seventeen songs, fourteen artists, mostly Brit pop. My favourites have been Snow Patrol, Placebo, Hard-Fi, and Mogwai.
Yes, I'm kind of obsessed. There's a new episode airing tonight on BBC Three, and varying reports are calling it "Random Shoes" and "Invisible Eugene" ... I'm inclined to believe the latter, since it's coming from imdb.com (which seems to be a better source for reality than wikipedia--hey, I love wikipedia, but it can be full of crap).
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The shopping update? I've done no holiday shopping this weekend (bad Ri!), online or otherwise. I really must get that act together. And soon.
07 December 2006
"animals howling in the night"
The Holidaily prompt of the day is asking us to recall our most memorable "perfect day"--but that isn't sparking any inspiration. It's just causing Lou Reed's "Perfect Day" to lodge itself in my brain and not go away. So I think I'm going to ignore the prompt, and I hope no one cares.
My mom sent me a vacuum cleaner in the mail. I'm taking this as a subtle hint (on top of her earlier more blatant remarks) that she thinks our apartment is dusty.
But mild resentment over opinions about my nonexistent housekeeping skills aside, I'm actually happy to have it; it's an improvement on the Dirt Devil, as it is bristle-free and won't scratch the wooden floor. And, more to the point, I recently decided that I need to pull down the storm-windows for the winter season. Lots of "stuff" accumulates between the window pane and the wire mesh screen over the spring and summer months. Suffice to say, I desperately need to vacuum out the cobwebs and dead insects around and inside my windows, so I hope this vacuum has attachments.
Mum also forwarded a UPS e-mail notification that says something else is supposed to arrive on Monday--and I'm guessing it's something that is also heavy or bulky, else she'd have had it delivered to their address and waited till I came down to visit them.
Very excited, very excited, indeed. Have become Welsh. ... Ignore that Eddie Izzard reference if its meaning escapes you. It's not that important.
Anyway, I don't really know what it is--but I'm hoping it's a region-free DVD player, so I can finally watch The Tribe and Lawless on my television, rather than my laptop. And I could rescue (and watch) the Once Were Warriors DVD from my parents' house. And finally get around to ordering The Brave from Amazon.co.uk, a film that I've been meaning to watch since, well, forever.
Yes, counting eggs as chickens. Good, good.
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The eighth episode of Torchwood became available in the late afternoon on Tuesday, so I downloaded it and watched it on Wednesday morning. It's entitled "They Keep Killing Suzie" ... and, as you might expect, they really do keep killing Suzie (a character that died in the first episode, whom they resurrect for this one).
On imdb.com there has been much speculation about the end of the episode, wherein Ianto and Jack are discussing the myriad of uses for a stopwatch (an implement that Ianto is carrying around and using for most of the episode). So many imdb.com users are insisting that it could be completely innocent. Well, no, boys and girls--the creators are trying to make it obvious that it isn't innocent fun and games. I mean, really, the producers have already announced that all the main characters on the show have the potential for omnisexuality (especially Captain Jack), so why is anyone surprised about a possible Jack/Ianto pairing (it's easier to swallow--double entendre really not intended--than Jack/Owen or Ianto/Owen)?
And besides, we have this from the Official Site: the Jack/Ianto instant messenger transcript. Yeah, so what if Ianto's girlfriend just died; we suspend lots of disbelief for the sake of this show, so there's no reason to not suspend it here.
... I can't wait for episode nine.
And I can't believe there are only thirteen episodes per series! Is it a solely State-side trait to have a 26-episode season?
In other entertainment: yesterday, I received the third and fourth discs of Witch Hunter Robin in the mail--SPOILER ALERT: skip the tiny paragraph between the following images if you've not watched this series and intend to do so.
That cannot be the end of Amon!! We're only halfway through the series! Helping her escape and then being some kind of martyr?! What the crap was that?
That being said, I'm supposed to get the fifth disc today, and I'm excited about finding out what happens.
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Ooh! look what Se gave me to try!
I had Cappuccino, Strawberry, and Praline. They are awesome--and so ridiculously cute! Little chocolate seahorses! Se says that this kind of chocolate is very expensive in China due to import taxes, so she buys them here and gives them as presents when she goes to visit. Nice idea.
06 December 2006
more obsessing over Torchwood, and pondering Father Christmas
"Creu Gwir fel gwydr o ffwrnais awen. In these stones, horizons sing." The Wales Millennium Centre, Cardiff Bay, Wales.
I wasn't sure if this place was real, or just something that the artists had created for the Torchwood series (a confusion which I understand is probably rather insulting to the Welsh--but please forgive me; State-side news about other countries is garbage, and it tends to lump all of the UK into "London"). The Google Maps programme is also to blame for my confusion, for if you look up Cardiff Bay on Google Maps you'll easily find the Oval Basin, but only a field of dirt or gravel where the WMC is supposed to be. Obviously, the overhead view is terribly out-of-date.
Anyway, the background shot of the Centre felt far too genuine to be fake, so I ended up pausing during episode seven or eight to read the words written on the building--half Welsh, half English. Then, through the powers of web searching, I discovered that the place was in fact real and there.
It makes me happy; I've done some reading, and I know that the Centre has been met with critical acclaim by the Welsh, but I think it's one of the more striking and beautiful examples of modern construction.
And I particularly like the view from the roof that we see in the first episode of Torchwood (though one probably isn't allowed to be up there in real life).
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Today's Holidaily prompt is to do with the Santa Claus myth--"Did you believe in Santa?" and "When did life deliver that soul-crushing blow, that Santa is in fact a myth?" and "Would you encourage your children to believe in Santa?"
First of all, my mother raised no dummy. By the time I was old enough to walk and crawl and snoop in every nook and cranny (always curious and surreptitiously getting into everyone's business, I was), I had determined that "Santa" was actually Mum and Dad. For one thing, sitting on a stranger's lap was abhorrent to me (I never liked shopping-mall Santas or clowns or anything of the kind; they terrified me); so I could hardly envision a stranger leaving me presents. Would I have wanted them?
I learned very early on that Christmas presents came from family and friends, not strange elderly men with an obesity problem. My first recollection of making this connection was in finding a large stuffed Big Bird doll in a closet in my mother's sewing room a week or so before Christmas.
Some people might say that dispelling the Santa illusion ruins the holiday for children, but I don't think so. I never felt disenchanted--I just enjoyed the time differently and with a sense of enlightenment. I recall trying to share my enlightenment in pre-school and being reprimanded by my teachers. "Just because you don't believe in Santa, doesn't mean that he doesn't exist." This coming from my fallaciously black-tongued elders. I believe my response was something like: "Just because they believe Santa exists, doesn't mean that he does."
I didn't deal well with authority and was in trouble quite a lot in those days.
As adults, we still enjoy ourselves this season; knowing that Kris Kringle is a myth or long-dead Saint does not spoil the holiday for us. And I don't see how forcing a lie upon impressionable youth teaches them anything (except that lying is acceptable). My family always said, "Santa" and "Rudolph" and "North Pole"--never in any seriousness, but simply as an appeasement for tradition. And we still do. Because the trappings of Christmas--though entirely fantastical--are wonderful, and I have always loved to indulge in them. I think it's like that for many people.
Will I support the idea of Santa if I ever have children? I probably will when they're young, but once they figure it out (and I have every expectation that any child of mine would be shrewd enough to do just that in record time), I'm not going to try and "make it real" for them all over again. Children deserve the respect of truthfulness, especially if parents are expecting truth in return.
05 December 2006
shopping horrors
I'm not sure if it's because I've never had a truly horrible shopping experience, or if my mind is just that good at blocking out bad memories--but I can't really think of any personal horror stories of shopping. Nothing major that would make an interesting anecdote, at any rate.
But dressing rooms have been known to make me nauseous, which leads me to think I may have a minor case of claustrophobia. Basically what sometimes happens is this: I overheat and feel like I might faint or get sick. It doesn't happen all the time, just sometimes. Only I can't recall ever feeling like that in a lavatory stall or lift, so I'm not sure what it is. Maybe I subconsciously just don't enjoy trying on clothes.
... My parents did lose me in department stores when I was younger. Well, my mother likes to say I was playing hide and seek in the clothing racks; but I can clearly recall just losing them on one or two occasions. I would turn around for a minute, something catching my attentively deficient and easily distracted gaze, turn back, and they were gone. And I remember being taken to the lost and found station by some worried passer-by, and having a sales associate page my mother or father. That was kind of horrifying. And, in retrospect, it's horrifying to consider how damned dangerous that situation really was (and can be, even more-so, today).
There's nothing holiday-related in those little factoids, though; and that's making this entry seem like a lost prompt.
On a more holiday-relevant note, I keep receiving e-mails regarding the UPS and USPS updates on certain of my packages for friends and family. All seems to be going well, and no terrible kinks in the works yet. *Knock on wood.* Hopefully things will continue to go according to plan.
Expected shopping horrors ahead are more at my own fault, and less at any peculiar metaphorical department-store lightning bolts from on high. I still have yet to decide what to get from my flat-mates, my grandmothers, and three other friends. Of these seven people, only two have wish lists on Amazon.com.
General cluelessness, combined with the character flaw of chronic indecisiveness, will make this final stretch of holiday shopping my own personal nightmare.
At least I have illicit copies of Torchwood episodes to make it all better at the end of the day. Captain Jack Harkness helps me black out the horrors of shopping.
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