![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
war wounds
Feb. 1st, 2008 12:14 amDemon kitten is uncharacteristically snoozing on my lap, which at least makes a nice change from
a) chewing and scratching my hands to bits (I keep having to tell people I have a demon kitten as they seem to leap to the strange conclusion that the mass of scratches that used to be the back of my hands is self-inflicted. Go figure. I'm really not the type.)
b) walking on laptop keyboard and bashing the touchscreen
c) chewing the side of the laptop
All standard feline behaviour, basically... I have to leave her alone in the house for the next two nights, and I'm panicking about it already. Someone will be in to feed her and hopefully keep her company for a while, but she's still just a baby and prefers to be around people. I have to keep reminding everything that she's only just four months old now, however much she may have grown in the past few weeks, and can't really be expected to act like a grown-up just yet...
On another note entirely, there was a singularly annoying article on the Times site today deriding all chick-flicks made in the last three decades... If the writer had any concept of genre, or been able to tell the difference between 'chick-flicks', 'rom-coms' and 'chick-lit', it might have not have been so completely irritating. But she blatantly couldn't, slated all my favourites--and all in the name of promoting the new Ryan Reynolds blokey rom-com, written by the idiot who adapted Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason *urgh*
Whiny writer unfortunately makes Definitely, Maybe sound dull, worthy and irritating. Add to the fact it has an annoyingly meaningless title nicked from an Oasis album, there's been zero buzz about it (I hadn't even heard of it until I saw a bus ad yesterday in town, and I devour about three film magazines a month), and it's 'political', its chances of Richard Curtis-stylee world domination are slim.
Now, if you don't mind, I'm still considering How to Lose A Guy in 10 Days a classic of the genre. And The Holiday makes me cry. So there...
a) chewing and scratching my hands to bits (I keep having to tell people I have a demon kitten as they seem to leap to the strange conclusion that the mass of scratches that used to be the back of my hands is self-inflicted. Go figure. I'm really not the type.)
b) walking on laptop keyboard and bashing the touchscreen
c) chewing the side of the laptop
All standard feline behaviour, basically... I have to leave her alone in the house for the next two nights, and I'm panicking about it already. Someone will be in to feed her and hopefully keep her company for a while, but she's still just a baby and prefers to be around people. I have to keep reminding everything that she's only just four months old now, however much she may have grown in the past few weeks, and can't really be expected to act like a grown-up just yet...
On another note entirely, there was a singularly annoying article on the Times site today deriding all chick-flicks made in the last three decades... If the writer had any concept of genre, or been able to tell the difference between 'chick-flicks', 'rom-coms' and 'chick-lit', it might have not have been so completely irritating. But she blatantly couldn't, slated all my favourites--and all in the name of promoting the new Ryan Reynolds blokey rom-com, written by the idiot who adapted Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason *urgh*
Whiny writer unfortunately makes Definitely, Maybe sound dull, worthy and irritating. Add to the fact it has an annoyingly meaningless title nicked from an Oasis album, there's been zero buzz about it (I hadn't even heard of it until I saw a bus ad yesterday in town, and I devour about three film magazines a month), and it's 'political', its chances of Richard Curtis-stylee world domination are slim.
Now, if you don't mind, I'm still considering How to Lose A Guy in 10 Days a classic of the genre. And The Holiday makes me cry. So there...
