(no subject)
Man, I really hate Christian holidays.
Particularly, I hate the way that everything shuts, and everyone goes around and spends meaningless times with their families.
I like my family, but I hate the feeling of having to spend time with them or alternatively I must be a bad bad person.
That sucks, to be honest.
Today, I felt like I congenitally, essentially, and microscopically disagreed with everything that my mum said.
EVERYTHING.
Whether it was about the cricket - I said "Nathan Astle is such a lovely bowler" and she immediately says "Daniel Vettori is much better." Now this is true, but it's also absolutely obvious. Mum's only started watching cricket since she's been with Andy, and now she has to be the expert. GRRRRRRRRR. Astle has perfect form, I think, and a really low run rate. Vettori is a spin bowler. It's apples and oranges, really.
Or it was the potential new New Zealand flag.
"The Maoris will want a Maori flag" said my mum, as if that was a bad thing. "And that's just PC."
She's not that racist, she was just being annoying. I hope.
Jesus.
The best thing about this weekend, funnily enough, was Tony watching "The Passion of the Christ" on Pay per view, while I read angsty porn on the computer.
It felt really transgressive, and I still think James Caviezel is hot. Is it wrong to lust after Jesus? Actually, not so much in that film, because, for Jesus, he has no charisma whatsoever. He had more in that crappy film with JLo. But Gibson obviously wanted him to be a kind of masochistic body, as if that was the point.
And I guess it is, but where's the fucking love, man?
I think the point is, if you believe that sort of thing, that Christ suffered dreadfully, and still forgave, still loved.
Not much of a sign of that in this bizarre anti-Semitic, anti-human film.
I'm for the next three weeks in charge of 9 year old Casey, which is to say, I'm baby-sitting/child-minding. In loco parentis. THis is actually quite a lot of fun, but it's hard to get that much work done, to be quite honest.
Otherwise, everything is going okay. Tony is back from Wellington, and after a week of adjusting, we had two or three good days, before I came to stay here. At some point we're really going to have to get used to living together again.
I'm looking forward to that, I love him, and I miss being together, even while I kind of enjoy being apart. It's weird.
Hi everyone.
I'm sporadic, still.
But I miss you all very much, so I'll be back more regularly soon.
Especially you, Miss Neko.
Bye everyone, for now.
Particularly, I hate the way that everything shuts, and everyone goes around and spends meaningless times with their families.
I like my family, but I hate the feeling of having to spend time with them or alternatively I must be a bad bad person.
That sucks, to be honest.
Today, I felt like I congenitally, essentially, and microscopically disagreed with everything that my mum said.
EVERYTHING.
Whether it was about the cricket - I said "Nathan Astle is such a lovely bowler" and she immediately says "Daniel Vettori is much better." Now this is true, but it's also absolutely obvious. Mum's only started watching cricket since she's been with Andy, and now she has to be the expert. GRRRRRRRRR. Astle has perfect form, I think, and a really low run rate. Vettori is a spin bowler. It's apples and oranges, really.
Or it was the potential new New Zealand flag.
"The Maoris will want a Maori flag" said my mum, as if that was a bad thing. "And that's just PC."
She's not that racist, she was just being annoying. I hope.
Jesus.
The best thing about this weekend, funnily enough, was Tony watching "The Passion of the Christ" on Pay per view, while I read angsty porn on the computer.
It felt really transgressive, and I still think James Caviezel is hot. Is it wrong to lust after Jesus? Actually, not so much in that film, because, for Jesus, he has no charisma whatsoever. He had more in that crappy film with JLo. But Gibson obviously wanted him to be a kind of masochistic body, as if that was the point.
And I guess it is, but where's the fucking love, man?
I think the point is, if you believe that sort of thing, that Christ suffered dreadfully, and still forgave, still loved.
Not much of a sign of that in this bizarre anti-Semitic, anti-human film.
I'm for the next three weeks in charge of 9 year old Casey, which is to say, I'm baby-sitting/child-minding. In loco parentis. THis is actually quite a lot of fun, but it's hard to get that much work done, to be quite honest.
Otherwise, everything is going okay. Tony is back from Wellington, and after a week of adjusting, we had two or three good days, before I came to stay here. At some point we're really going to have to get used to living together again.
I'm looking forward to that, I love him, and I miss being together, even while I kind of enjoy being apart. It's weird.
Hi everyone.
I'm sporadic, still.
But I miss you all very much, so I'll be back more regularly soon.
Especially you, Miss Neko.
Bye everyone, for now.