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dragojustineFreakishly enough, despite wasting five solid hours today on way too much driving and poor planning and people who don't keep appointments (grrr) I was able to knock out my whole to-do list by 7:00 and watch some TV.
I have spent more time at the Home Depot this last week, and there's only more of that in my future. I am thinking about starting a blog series entitled "sexism at the Home Depot." I walked in with my cart, knowing exactly what I was looking for, but having a bit of trouble finding the aisle. This salesguy walks up to me with the smarmiest smile I think I've ever seen, and says, "ma'am, you look lost."
So I say, "Where's the bath hardware aisle?"
And, without missing a beat or pausing for even a nano-second, he says "straight down this aisle and turn right, can't miss it." And then he turns on his heel and walks away.
And I think, "that can't be right, that's the back of the store" but I follow his directions, and find that he's pointed me to... the restroom.
Because I couldn't possibly have been actually shopping for something. Obviously, I was just pushing the cart around looking for the ladies' while my husband did whatever. I mean, I said bath hardware aisle! He could have pretended to hear a word I said at least.
I finished Stargate, too. Floppy-haired bespectacled dorky linguist Daniel Jackson is still total LOVE. Really. &hearts forever.
I do not ship Jack/Daniel, though. I mean, I see why one would, but I don't, for reasons that I shan't go into here and are probably moot in the series anyway. What I do ship is Jack/this guy. Did he even have a name in this movie? Cause he was gorgeous, and totally rocking the hero-worship/adolescent-awakening thing, and the evolution of their interaction right up to the salute at the end was just stunning. ETA: It turns out there's character backstory about how he reminds Jack of his dead son. DAMN! It was so pretty to think about.
Anyway, I am now definitely interested in the Stargate verse, even if I will be crushed to see Daniel played by anyone but James Spader.
In other fannishness, I just watched "Empty Child" and "The Doctor Dances" for the first time. I spent two solid hours DANCING ABOUT MY HOUSE IN GLEE. Seriously, it was one of those instances of being made so happy by a television show that I literally physically cannot remain on the couch, but must turn the volume up and dance about while rewinding frequently. Jack checking out Rose's ass while she dangles in midair! Jack seducing Rose on top of the invisible space ship! Jack dancing! (I have SUCH A THING for John Barrowman dancing). Jack being all footloose and carefree! And the ending of Doctor Dances- my god! All the dogs in the neighborhood could hear me squeeing. I haven't been that happy since... well, okay, since "innovative. Bordering on the avant-garde" so I guess I'm easy, but it was still really really really pleasing.
I completely see why Jack got his own show, because I just want to watch him smile that huge smile and show his dimples and throw back his head and laugh and drink martinis and dance and swat strange men's asses FOREVER.
Just finished "The Fifth Head of Cerberus" for the third time. I am Gene Wolfe's bitch. The man is a genius and I want to fall down at his feet and intone "I'm not worthy." More than that, I want to watch him in some kind of gladiator-pit to-the-death brain-match against Umberto Eco. With Thomas Pynchon coaching. And Jorge Luis Borges judging. Okay, shutting up now.
I have spent more time at the Home Depot this last week, and there's only more of that in my future. I am thinking about starting a blog series entitled "sexism at the Home Depot." I walked in with my cart, knowing exactly what I was looking for, but having a bit of trouble finding the aisle. This salesguy walks up to me with the smarmiest smile I think I've ever seen, and says, "ma'am, you look lost."
So I say, "Where's the bath hardware aisle?"
And, without missing a beat or pausing for even a nano-second, he says "straight down this aisle and turn right, can't miss it." And then he turns on his heel and walks away.
And I think, "that can't be right, that's the back of the store" but I follow his directions, and find that he's pointed me to... the restroom.
Because I couldn't possibly have been actually shopping for something. Obviously, I was just pushing the cart around looking for the ladies' while my husband did whatever. I mean, I said bath hardware aisle! He could have pretended to hear a word I said at least.
I finished Stargate, too. Floppy-haired bespectacled dorky linguist Daniel Jackson is still total LOVE. Really. &hearts forever.
I do not ship Jack/Daniel, though. I mean, I see why one would, but I don't, for reasons that I shan't go into here and are probably moot in the series anyway. What I do ship is Jack/this guy. Did he even have a name in this movie? Cause he was gorgeous, and totally rocking the hero-worship/adolescent-awakening thing, and the evolution of their interaction right up to the salute at the end was just stunning. ETA: It turns out there's character backstory about how he reminds Jack of his dead son. DAMN! It was so pretty to think about.
Anyway, I am now definitely interested in the Stargate verse, even if I will be crushed to see Daniel played by anyone but James Spader.
In other fannishness, I just watched "Empty Child" and "The Doctor Dances" for the first time. I spent two solid hours DANCING ABOUT MY HOUSE IN GLEE. Seriously, it was one of those instances of being made so happy by a television show that I literally physically cannot remain on the couch, but must turn the volume up and dance about while rewinding frequently. Jack checking out Rose's ass while she dangles in midair! Jack seducing Rose on top of the invisible space ship! Jack dancing! (I have SUCH A THING for John Barrowman dancing). Jack being all footloose and carefree! And the ending of Doctor Dances- my god! All the dogs in the neighborhood could hear me squeeing. I haven't been that happy since... well, okay, since "innovative. Bordering on the avant-garde" so I guess I'm easy, but it was still really really really pleasing.
I completely see why Jack got his own show, because I just want to watch him smile that huge smile and show his dimples and throw back his head and laugh and drink martinis and dance and swat strange men's asses FOREVER.
Just finished "The Fifth Head of Cerberus" for the third time. I am Gene Wolfe's bitch. The man is a genius and I want to fall down at his feet and intone "I'm not worthy." More than that, I want to watch him in some kind of gladiator-pit to-the-death brain-match against Umberto Eco. With Thomas Pynchon coaching. And Jorge Luis Borges judging. Okay, shutting up now.