You are so cool
Man, like nothing I actually care about won a BAFTA. Screw you, Britain!
Also - it's been quite a while since I've updated this thing. Don't know why, just haven't much felt like it. I've been around, I suppose; just haven't had much to say. Or I have, but didn't feel equal to spelling it all out. Anyway.
Boston just ticked over from "pleasantly warm" to "too darn hot". Today was all right due to breeziness, but yesterday was a stifling nightmare. I hadn't even planned on leaving my room, but then LSC intervened and I had to shuffle on over to the Stud a disturbing number of times. Today I really did have an errand, but like I said, the wind made everything quite nice. I got a few groceries, listened to the latest Bugle, and got caught up on The Office and Pushing Daisies. Tonight I'm gonna go catch The Wrestler while I still can, and then it'll be back to semantics and paper revision.
Which I should, really, be doing now. But it's so nice is the problem, sitting here with my window open and the lights off and being a bit content with things, and Livy is so dry and long and then suchandsuch did this! and I can't really be arsed about whether his writing had a tinge of moral didacticism or not. (...I spelled that right, didn't I? Firefox doesn't like it.) At any rate, I've got a whole load of don't care on my shoulders right now, and it's very hard to overcome.
Well, spring's finally here, and I've only three more weeks of classes, so things could certainly be worse, what?
EDIT: Ok, Mad Men is fantastic (as we're all no doubt aware), so I guess Britain's not completely dead to me. Except for the part where, you know, Mad Men is one of ours, and it's won enough already, so...screw you, BAFTAs!
(Still procrastinating. God damn do I hate schoolwork.)
EDIT 2: ...
Ok, storytime. There's this one page that I stumbled across ages ago that was my source for AbsPower and Saturday Night Fry. I thought "what ho, that's rather a fantastic find!" and, having downloaded all, thought no more of it.
Skip to roughly a year later, and you find me somewhat compulsively (but in a lazy, meandering sort of way) attempting to fill out all of the songs in my iTunes library. I'd already done most of the information, but the majority of my songs lacked their corresponding album art. I've been remedying this bit by bit, when I have the time or need a distraction.
Now, I've also a fair amount of spoken word whatsits lying about, and my general recourse was to use whatever image I thought would suffice. The BBC had released Mitchell and Webb's series, so they were easy, and I just jacked the TV title card for AbsPower. But then I came around to Saturday Night Fry again, and I realized that no image would be forthcoming. Yes, I could have just stuck a picture of Stephenf in there, but that wouldn't have stayed true to the spirit of the thing. So the episodes sat there, a six-track block of blankness in the Artwork View that weighed heavily on my mind. The only picture I could think of was the one from That Page where I'd downloaded the whole bally thing in the first place, but what could I do? I hadn't bookmarked the place, after all, because I thought it had served its one and only purpose.
This slight, niggling frustration went on for weeks until tonight I simply broke down and googled "'saturday night fry' 'absolute power' bbc radio", in hopes that what I remembered of the page text would at least land me in the ballpark. And you know what happened? The index WAS THE FIRST BLOODY RESULT. I mean, jesus FUCK, it was so achingly simple it made me want to scream. Weeks of near-agonizing (not really, but I'm allowed to be a touch dramatic at one ack emma) and all it took was a fucking Google search?!?
Fuck my life. Just looking at that page hurts. I mean, no one likes coming up against irrefutable evidence that they're a bit slow, what? *sigh* At least I have my fucking picture in iTunes now.
In the end, kids, the moral of the story is this: always trust in Google. There's little it can't do.
And now I shall return to grumbling over semantics, once I've shook my head at myself a few more times.
EDIT 3: While I'm still awake, The Wrestler was certainly not the movie I was expecting. Yes, yes, Trailers Always Lie and all that, but still. Damn. Mickey Rourke did do very well, as so much of it hurt to watch (and I'm not just talking about the physically ouchy things, though those hurt too), but it's now fair for me to say that Penn really did deserve the Oscar. Still, it was quite good if you're in the mood to be poked with a pointy stick for an hour and a half.
I fear I must sleep now, as those dreaded labs are at 9. Can't hardly fuckin' wait.
Also - it's been quite a while since I've updated this thing. Don't know why, just haven't much felt like it. I've been around, I suppose; just haven't had much to say. Or I have, but didn't feel equal to spelling it all out. Anyway.
Boston just ticked over from "pleasantly warm" to "too darn hot". Today was all right due to breeziness, but yesterday was a stifling nightmare. I hadn't even planned on leaving my room, but then LSC intervened and I had to shuffle on over to the Stud a disturbing number of times. Today I really did have an errand, but like I said, the wind made everything quite nice. I got a few groceries, listened to the latest Bugle, and got caught up on The Office and Pushing Daisies. Tonight I'm gonna go catch The Wrestler while I still can, and then it'll be back to semantics and paper revision.
Which I should, really, be doing now. But it's so nice is the problem, sitting here with my window open and the lights off and being a bit content with things, and Livy is so dry and long and then suchandsuch did this! and I can't really be arsed about whether his writing had a tinge of moral didacticism or not. (...I spelled that right, didn't I? Firefox doesn't like it.) At any rate, I've got a whole load of don't care on my shoulders right now, and it's very hard to overcome.
Well, spring's finally here, and I've only three more weeks of classes, so things could certainly be worse, what?
EDIT: Ok, Mad Men is fantastic (as we're all no doubt aware), so I guess Britain's not completely dead to me. Except for the part where, you know, Mad Men is one of ours, and it's won enough already, so...screw you, BAFTAs!
(Still procrastinating. God damn do I hate schoolwork.)
EDIT 2: ...
Ok, storytime. There's this one page that I stumbled across ages ago that was my source for AbsPower and Saturday Night Fry. I thought "what ho, that's rather a fantastic find!" and, having downloaded all, thought no more of it.
Skip to roughly a year later, and you find me somewhat compulsively (but in a lazy, meandering sort of way) attempting to fill out all of the songs in my iTunes library. I'd already done most of the information, but the majority of my songs lacked their corresponding album art. I've been remedying this bit by bit, when I have the time or need a distraction.
Now, I've also a fair amount of spoken word whatsits lying about, and my general recourse was to use whatever image I thought would suffice. The BBC had released Mitchell and Webb's series, so they were easy, and I just jacked the TV title card for AbsPower. But then I came around to Saturday Night Fry again, and I realized that no image would be forthcoming. Yes, I could have just stuck a picture of Stephenf in there, but that wouldn't have stayed true to the spirit of the thing. So the episodes sat there, a six-track block of blankness in the Artwork View that weighed heavily on my mind. The only picture I could think of was the one from That Page where I'd downloaded the whole bally thing in the first place, but what could I do? I hadn't bookmarked the place, after all, because I thought it had served its one and only purpose.
This slight, niggling frustration went on for weeks until tonight I simply broke down and googled "'saturday night fry' 'absolute power' bbc radio", in hopes that what I remembered of the page text would at least land me in the ballpark. And you know what happened? The index WAS THE FIRST BLOODY RESULT. I mean, jesus FUCK, it was so achingly simple it made me want to scream. Weeks of near-agonizing (not really, but I'm allowed to be a touch dramatic at one ack emma) and all it took was a fucking Google search?!?
Fuck my life. Just looking at that page hurts. I mean, no one likes coming up against irrefutable evidence that they're a bit slow, what? *sigh* At least I have my fucking picture in iTunes now.
In the end, kids, the moral of the story is this: always trust in Google. There's little it can't do.
And now I shall return to grumbling over semantics, once I've shook my head at myself a few more times.
EDIT 3: While I'm still awake, The Wrestler was certainly not the movie I was expecting. Yes, yes, Trailers Always Lie and all that, but still. Damn. Mickey Rourke did do very well, as so much of it hurt to watch (and I'm not just talking about the physically ouchy things, though those hurt too), but it's now fair for me to say that Penn really did deserve the Oscar. Still, it was quite good if you're in the mood to be poked with a pointy stick for an hour and a half.
I fear I must sleep now, as those dreaded labs are at 9. Can't hardly fuckin' wait.