(no subject)
So, I'm watching Buffy, well, not really watching it, but listening to it on Hulu as I work (a pastime I enjoy), when it went to commercial. Seeing as how I wasn't looking at the screen, I didn't realize that anything had changed and so when I heard, "When you're a cyber-warrior, you don't have to go out into the desert to be in the field," and I thought, for some bizarre reason, that it was Xander being sarcastic and started to laugh. Then I look up and no, it wasn't Buffy. It was a commercial for the Army. Now, even more than before, I just can't take them seriously. Oops. =D
I totally just got the first three seasons of Doctor Who (2005) on DVD! It is much awesomeness and I find that, on second viewing, the first few eps with Christopher Eccleston are not as boring as I used to see them. It took me three episodes to get into the show the first time around. When the pilot consists of mannequins coming to life to kill people and the only weapon to stop them being "anti-plastic," well, it's kind of hard to take it seriously. But now that I'm as in the show as I am now, I can see it for the charming wackiness that is ever-present in the show. And now I can't say "Fantastic!" without sounding like him.
Seriously, I feel like my mind is melting. I always have something I want to say here, but I can never remember come time to type. I think my job is making my brain short out. Too much data entry, never enough sleep, you know?
Saw the ex two weeks ago. The guy who broke up with me last summer. For the first time ever, he worked at Starbucks on a Saturday that I'm volunteering at my old job. I was so shocked to see him that I actually walked back out of the place and had to stand outside. After a few deep breaths, I willed myself to go back in. It's not like I'm still hung up on the guy or anything, but I haven't seen him in almost a year and the last in-person conversation we had left me crying, so I have a right to be a little nervous. As it turns out, I didn't need to be, since the conversation we had was not awkward at all. It was actually quite pleasant. Though I think at one point he might have thought I was trying to ask him out again. Oh well. At least it didn't leave me feeling cold and upset. But it was still odd to see him after so long.
Also went to see a PEN Festival Cabaret (with the indomitable Aaron) where playwrights, poets, spoken word artists, and authors perform some of their greatest hits. Got to see James Franco (*gasp* I know!) and Parker Posey in a great dramatic scene about New York, William Moseley read out a chapter of one of his books, Nick Laird read aloud a few poems. The only part that I did not enjoy was when Lou Reed and his wife Laurie Anderson did their performance piece. Oh my God, save me from aging hasbeens. Now, I know that's not a nice thing to say because many artists can go on creating beauty for years after their "prime." But in this case, I won't apologize. The piece was a monstrosity of experimental music with either nonsensical prose performed by Laurie Anderson, or poetry about growing old that is badly sung by Lou Reed. To make matters worse, it lasted for over 20 minutes. Is it possible to get post-traumatic stress disorder from a performance? If so, I have it! (Apologies to anyone who actually has PTSD as this is not a jab aimed at your or the disorder, but rather Lou Reed's incapability to create something enjoyable.) I wish there was a way to illustrate the horrors because no mere blog post will ever do.
Ok, back to mopping up what's left of my brain off the floor. Watch your feet!
I totally just got the first three seasons of Doctor Who (2005) on DVD! It is much awesomeness and I find that, on second viewing, the first few eps with Christopher Eccleston are not as boring as I used to see them. It took me three episodes to get into the show the first time around. When the pilot consists of mannequins coming to life to kill people and the only weapon to stop them being "anti-plastic," well, it's kind of hard to take it seriously. But now that I'm as in the show as I am now, I can see it for the charming wackiness that is ever-present in the show. And now I can't say "Fantastic!" without sounding like him.
Seriously, I feel like my mind is melting. I always have something I want to say here, but I can never remember come time to type. I think my job is making my brain short out. Too much data entry, never enough sleep, you know?
Saw the ex two weeks ago. The guy who broke up with me last summer. For the first time ever, he worked at Starbucks on a Saturday that I'm volunteering at my old job. I was so shocked to see him that I actually walked back out of the place and had to stand outside. After a few deep breaths, I willed myself to go back in. It's not like I'm still hung up on the guy or anything, but I haven't seen him in almost a year and the last in-person conversation we had left me crying, so I have a right to be a little nervous. As it turns out, I didn't need to be, since the conversation we had was not awkward at all. It was actually quite pleasant. Though I think at one point he might have thought I was trying to ask him out again. Oh well. At least it didn't leave me feeling cold and upset. But it was still odd to see him after so long.
Also went to see a PEN Festival Cabaret (with the indomitable Aaron) where playwrights, poets, spoken word artists, and authors perform some of their greatest hits. Got to see James Franco (*gasp* I know!) and Parker Posey in a great dramatic scene about New York, William Moseley read out a chapter of one of his books, Nick Laird read aloud a few poems. The only part that I did not enjoy was when Lou Reed and his wife Laurie Anderson did their performance piece. Oh my God, save me from aging hasbeens. Now, I know that's not a nice thing to say because many artists can go on creating beauty for years after their "prime." But in this case, I won't apologize. The piece was a monstrosity of experimental music with either nonsensical prose performed by Laurie Anderson, or poetry about growing old that is badly sung by Lou Reed. To make matters worse, it lasted for over 20 minutes. Is it possible to get post-traumatic stress disorder from a performance? If so, I have it! (Apologies to anyone who actually has PTSD as this is not a jab aimed at your or the disorder, but rather Lou Reed's incapability to create something enjoyable.) I wish there was a way to illustrate the horrors because no mere blog post will ever do.
Ok, back to mopping up what's left of my brain off the floor. Watch your feet!