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i'll just be over here in the corner...
Jun. 2nd, 2008 11:12 pm... squeeing over this week's ep of Dr Who, and the Lost finale. DW finally kicked into gear (it was the Moffatt. Of course it was. Only, Alex Kingston this year instead of Carey Mulligan... and with the potential to go all Time Traveller's Wife. I think. Hard to tell.).
And Lost! Which finally made me cry, four years after I first sat and watched the pilot at ComiCon... Fabulous, and audacious, and omg the thing that made me cry was Desmond, rather than all the trauma. And man, there was a lot of trauma...
oh dear god, some nutter just called the talk show late night radio under the name 'jeremy benthem' and started spouting lost dialogue. that was weird...
Woah, I am going to have so many evenings free now the stunted little tv season has finally finished... luckily there is more knitting to be done (I was a little bit overambitious with my new pet project, but we'll get there! Note to self, do not try counting stitches while watching Casino Royale. It Will Not End Well.).
And my holidays are over for the year, already... the cruise was rather fabulous, and I did all the ice skating, and rock climbing, and laughing raucously at all the blokes who thought they could do the surf simulator with baggy trunks on. Dude, the wetsuits are there for a reason, and the reason is to keep your butt covered up! I And I only felt sick once! and I can't even look at how much I spent on board.
Of course, it took me a good couple of weeks to get over the crippling self-doubt brought on by sharing a dinner table every night with two of my oldest friends and four complete strangers. Having to justify every single frickin' aspect of my life under a barrage of questions wasn't so much fun, but hey, there you go, that's my own personal trauma.
Much more fun was Lake Garda, even if we did brave the teutonic tourist hordes all the way. There were gorgeous mountains, hypnotically lovely lake, much tea drunk, and lots of apple streudle consumed, and the world was good. I got to Bond geek several times (ooh, look, there's the last of the crew trucks blocking the road after the re-shoots! etc, etc, etc). No sign of Mr Craig et al, sadly, but we did take a trip up the mountain roads they filmed the opening credit car chase on... twisty! And the village at the top where they'd been shooting had a massive Bond banner up across the road, it was highly amusing... (yep, the geography didn't quite work out in reality, cos last time I looked, the dude at the end of CR gets shot on Como, and they were shooting right next to Garda, go figure)
The worst case of Bond geekery turned out to be my weird conviction that I absolutely had to wear my sailor-stylee stripy top when we visited Venice. Took me right up until the night before to finally cotton on that, yes, I have seen that bit in CR a few too many times, as I'm now copying Vesper's wardrobe...
Also, wear stripy tops in Venice, and the gondoliers tend to think you're copying them. Which is strange and slightly unnerving..
Despite all the hype and the tourist crap, Venice was just breathtakingly gorgeous... Even though I started off thinking the gondolas were overhyped tourist crap personified, it took about a minute of drifting down the canals in the gloom watching the waterline before I was converted. The contrast between the city being rotted from the inside out, and those perfect distant vistas... wow. There were crabs living on the house walls just below the waterline, and half the city being gutted and rebuilt. The hype's true, but not in the way it thinks it is.
And now i have to go sleep, having done no more knitting tonight...
Except, gah, I think I have to rant slightly about the stupid, stupid binge drinking riot some idiots organised on the Tube last week. So we finally get a new Mayor, he bans drinking alcohol on the Tube (this is a Good Thing) and some prats decide to hit facebook and have one last drinking party on the Circle Line before the ban kicks in.
Except, being London, it turns into a free-for-all, people end up arrested, and half the network was a no-go area for the entire night. What really got my goat was the fact that people were even smoking down there (too young to remember the King's Cross fire, perhaps, cos I sure as hell remember it pretty vividly).
People are stupid. It's official. Especially in this godawful city...
And Lost! Which finally made me cry, four years after I first sat and watched the pilot at ComiCon... Fabulous, and audacious, and omg the thing that made me cry was Desmond, rather than all the trauma. And man, there was a lot of trauma...
oh dear god, some nutter just called the talk show late night radio under the name 'jeremy benthem' and started spouting lost dialogue. that was weird...
Woah, I am going to have so many evenings free now the stunted little tv season has finally finished... luckily there is more knitting to be done (I was a little bit overambitious with my new pet project, but we'll get there! Note to self, do not try counting stitches while watching Casino Royale. It Will Not End Well.).
And my holidays are over for the year, already... the cruise was rather fabulous, and I did all the ice skating, and rock climbing, and laughing raucously at all the blokes who thought they could do the surf simulator with baggy trunks on. Dude, the wetsuits are there for a reason, and the reason is to keep your butt covered up! I And I only felt sick once! and I can't even look at how much I spent on board.
Of course, it took me a good couple of weeks to get over the crippling self-doubt brought on by sharing a dinner table every night with two of my oldest friends and four complete strangers. Having to justify every single frickin' aspect of my life under a barrage of questions wasn't so much fun, but hey, there you go, that's my own personal trauma.
Much more fun was Lake Garda, even if we did brave the teutonic tourist hordes all the way. There were gorgeous mountains, hypnotically lovely lake, much tea drunk, and lots of apple streudle consumed, and the world was good. I got to Bond geek several times (ooh, look, there's the last of the crew trucks blocking the road after the re-shoots! etc, etc, etc). No sign of Mr Craig et al, sadly, but we did take a trip up the mountain roads they filmed the opening credit car chase on... twisty! And the village at the top where they'd been shooting had a massive Bond banner up across the road, it was highly amusing... (yep, the geography didn't quite work out in reality, cos last time I looked, the dude at the end of CR gets shot on Como, and they were shooting right next to Garda, go figure)
The worst case of Bond geekery turned out to be my weird conviction that I absolutely had to wear my sailor-stylee stripy top when we visited Venice. Took me right up until the night before to finally cotton on that, yes, I have seen that bit in CR a few too many times, as I'm now copying Vesper's wardrobe...
Also, wear stripy tops in Venice, and the gondoliers tend to think you're copying them. Which is strange and slightly unnerving..
Despite all the hype and the tourist crap, Venice was just breathtakingly gorgeous... Even though I started off thinking the gondolas were overhyped tourist crap personified, it took about a minute of drifting down the canals in the gloom watching the waterline before I was converted. The contrast between the city being rotted from the inside out, and those perfect distant vistas... wow. There were crabs living on the house walls just below the waterline, and half the city being gutted and rebuilt. The hype's true, but not in the way it thinks it is.
And now i have to go sleep, having done no more knitting tonight...
Except, gah, I think I have to rant slightly about the stupid, stupid binge drinking riot some idiots organised on the Tube last week. So we finally get a new Mayor, he bans drinking alcohol on the Tube (this is a Good Thing) and some prats decide to hit facebook and have one last drinking party on the Circle Line before the ban kicks in.
Except, being London, it turns into a free-for-all, people end up arrested, and half the network was a no-go area for the entire night. What really got my goat was the fact that people were even smoking down there (too young to remember the King's Cross fire, perhaps, cos I sure as hell remember it pretty vividly).
People are stupid. It's official. Especially in this godawful city...
