Obsessions
So recently I finally was able to watch the BBC's Sherlock. (Thank you, Netflix Instant). All I can say is that it's ridiculously brilliant. I've even made loads of icons, because that's what I do with an obsession. I'm like this, with really good telly. I have to become an instant fan, and make icons and such. But it really is that good of a show.
I always have the best intentions about blogging everyday, but nothing seems to happen that requires it. I'm being stolen by my adoptive grandbig this weekend, which should be fun, and I should have something to blog about after that. I'm also taking chemistry in 2 weeks, going back to Waco in 1, and doing some other things in between.
There were some particularly bad storms here last night, of the tornadic type. Everyone I know is fine, thank God, and there was no severe damage. It was not the funnest of evenings, though, huddling in the closet under the stairs to be safe while the sirens went off. Tornadoes are my least favourite type of weather, if just because I had one go right over my head when I was three and I have never been able to forget the sound.
There really is nothing interesting going on right now. Well, there are the text conversations I've had recently about the acquisition of knives via Amazon (Em: kitchen knives. Me: throwing knives) and my hobby of breaking codes, but those have mostly lead to me being called (by Em, of course) a spook. As nicknames go, it's not bad. It's fairly appropriate, if not entirely accurate. I'm simply a college student who likes to read of covert military history.
Back to Sherlock. It's a really brilliant piece of television, written as it is by Stephen Moffat. The Moff remains one of my favourite writers of the current day. All of his scripts are witty, wordy without being pretentious (unless the character is), complicated, and simply cool. He captures chatter the way that no other writer can. There are a few things that I've noticed he likes to use, from comparing his Doctor Who scripts for 11 with Sherlock. Something being like Christmas (as in a present) is used in both: For Sherlock it's a serial suicide who left a note, and for Eleven it's "vampire" girls in Venice. It's those kind of things that make me feel both a) really observant and b) a wee bit giggly. I love noticing that kind of stuff!
This show has also intensified my need for an extremely long swishy coat. Yes, I already have a long coat that is black, awesome, and knee length, but it doesn't swirl around. I mean, it did help me not die in the game of Zombies (I walked right past someone and he didn't even know it was me) but it's not quite...dramatic enough. I do like a bit of drama, so help me.
Reading over this blog entry, it comes off a bit strange. Well, that's how I'm feeling. Maybe it's how abysmally hot it's gotten here in Texas, or how my TBΣ jersey, while awesome and one of my favourite things that I own, is polyester plastic and sticking to me. I'm also worrying if I've offended one of the people dearest to me, and if I need to do a bit more marimba practice.
I should head upstairs. Maybe it's cooler up there, but I doubt it. Heat rises, after all.
-k-
I always have the best intentions about blogging everyday, but nothing seems to happen that requires it. I'm being stolen by my adoptive grandbig this weekend, which should be fun, and I should have something to blog about after that. I'm also taking chemistry in 2 weeks, going back to Waco in 1, and doing some other things in between.
There were some particularly bad storms here last night, of the tornadic type. Everyone I know is fine, thank God, and there was no severe damage. It was not the funnest of evenings, though, huddling in the closet under the stairs to be safe while the sirens went off. Tornadoes are my least favourite type of weather, if just because I had one go right over my head when I was three and I have never been able to forget the sound.
There really is nothing interesting going on right now. Well, there are the text conversations I've had recently about the acquisition of knives via Amazon (Em: kitchen knives. Me: throwing knives) and my hobby of breaking codes, but those have mostly lead to me being called (by Em, of course) a spook. As nicknames go, it's not bad. It's fairly appropriate, if not entirely accurate. I'm simply a college student who likes to read of covert military history.
Back to Sherlock. It's a really brilliant piece of television, written as it is by Stephen Moffat. The Moff remains one of my favourite writers of the current day. All of his scripts are witty, wordy without being pretentious (unless the character is), complicated, and simply cool. He captures chatter the way that no other writer can. There are a few things that I've noticed he likes to use, from comparing his Doctor Who scripts for 11 with Sherlock. Something being like Christmas (as in a present) is used in both: For Sherlock it's a serial suicide who left a note, and for Eleven it's "vampire" girls in Venice. It's those kind of things that make me feel both a) really observant and b) a wee bit giggly. I love noticing that kind of stuff!
This show has also intensified my need for an extremely long swishy coat. Yes, I already have a long coat that is black, awesome, and knee length, but it doesn't swirl around. I mean, it did help me not die in the game of Zombies (I walked right past someone and he didn't even know it was me) but it's not quite...dramatic enough. I do like a bit of drama, so help me.
Reading over this blog entry, it comes off a bit strange. Well, that's how I'm feeling. Maybe it's how abysmally hot it's gotten here in Texas, or how my TBΣ jersey, while awesome and one of my favourite things that I own, is polyester plastic and sticking to me. I'm also worrying if I've offended one of the people dearest to me, and if I need to do a bit more marimba practice.
I should head upstairs. Maybe it's cooler up there, but I doubt it. Heat rises, after all.
-k-