Thiswon'tbeveryfunnysoherehavesomereactiongifs

What is wroooong with me? I have had opportunities to do nice and good things that are nice and good and my brain is like 'now is the time to be cynical and angry for no reason. Enjoy.' In a place right now of... not poverty, because that implies desperation, but financial discomfort. Will have to go and look for work very soon. When I can afford the petrol to drive to places and apply for jobs. Which is pretty damn scary. And phoning people and looking up avaliable jobs is proving ridiculously challenging right now. I'm sorry for being so babyish.

Went back to work for a few hours in the afternoon yesterday and today. Lovely to see the babsies again, but I'm still in a state of continually simmering panic. My comfort zone is infinitely too small and stupidly uncomfortable.
Good night folks.

Charlie and the Doctor's Badger - Doctor Who Confidential - BBC Three

Obligatory Christmassy video for you

Because I said I would. And this is sorta awesome.

I shall be having lunch directly and don't want it bounced on just before I begin.

Oh my giddiest of very-dizzy-aunts, you guys. I have had a revelation! The eleventh Doctor, as portrayed by Matt Smith is secretly just Tigger in disguise!




 'Tigger took a large mouthful of honey... and he looked up at the ceiling with his head on one side, and made exploring noises with his tongue and considering noises, and what-have-we-got-here noises... and then he said in a very decided voice:
"Tiggers don't like honey."
"Oh!" said Pooh, and tried to make it sound Sad and Regretful. "I thought they liked everything."
 "Everything except honey," said Tigger.'

Of course, this isn't the first of Mr. Moffat's not-so-subtle stealings from masters of literature. Incidentally, my ten-year-old, falling apart copy of The House at Pooh Corner smells AMAZING!

You've obviously never been neck deep in nuns.

Put my hair in curlers last night. Realise now that this was somewhat unwise, seeing as I didn't have anywhere to go show off ze luvverly ringlets today. So tonight I must once again bind up the curly locks in rollers and pins and somehow wangle my head into a position in which no pins are jabbing my skull, if I'm to try it out in public. Quite pleased with the effect - my hair sometimes does the mad corkscrewy ringlet thing of its own accord - though rarely. This is more reliable.

Oh. My. Gosh. Doctor Who people, that was ridiculously creepy. And then the creepiness got a bit boring. But still...
And the creepiness was made even more creepy by the fact that I spent the previous two hours watching The Bells of St Mary's - i.e., the tamest thing to come out of the 40s. A heartwarming film about a Catholic school run by Bing Crosby ('Father O'Malley') and Ingrid Bergman ('Sister Benedict'). There were things in it that had me smiling but bewildered - a nun teaching a little boy to box so that he can defend himself in the playground? What? Bizarre. According to wikipedia though (yes, I know about the trustworthiness of publicly edited websites) it's the 50th highest grossing film of all time. There you go. And the (horrific if your imagination is as graphic as mine) quote I'm using for the heading? It's from this film.
There is a scene I quite liked. Here, watch it.

You are going to steal me. You have stolen me. You are stealing me. Oh! Tenses are difficult, aren’t they?

Doctor Who tonight. I expected I would hate it - but I didn't. The freaky corridor moments were almost too much for my wussy horror-intolerant imagination, but by the end of the episode I was squealing like a silly fangirl.
ARTHUR DARVILL AND MATT SMITH CRYING! AT THE SAME TIME! LKJSDFLJASIDFHKZXKVJHSDKFHSKDFHSDFSASDFLJKASDLJKLKASJDFASDFJSDKDFH!
Watch the confidential tomorrow as well, if you didn't see it tonight - Neil Gaiman reads the script he wrote for the episode. I want to write awesome scripts for Doctor Who!
Anyway... Helena Bonham Carter would've done it better. And it was too dark for a children's show. And stop flippin' killing Rory. It's not funny.
Criticisms aside: I love Doctor Who.

Oh, and I want to see this film.

No, no, it's not Apollo 11. That would be silly.

Feeling cynical and grumpy and unpleasant. Wisdom teeth, why do you want to hurt me? Why?
Can't find my magical Baltic amber bracelet either. Grrrr.
Irritated at the non-making-sense-ness of tonight's episode of Doctor Who. Atmosphere isn't everything, guys. A coherent storyline helps viewers enjoy their evening. Plus, River Song is totally getting on my nerves now. The lack of chemistry is shocking, plus, she's an enormous pain in the neck.
Oh, and that little girl at the end had better be Jenny or somesuch. If she's the Doctor's actual daughter (by which I mean a kid actually sired by him - with any woman; particularly any member of the current crew) I may beginning a new career as an angry letter writer - something I have always suspected myself of a latent talent for. I would giggle myself to tears if she were the Master. Come on, that would be sort of awesome.

Have I mentioned how much I love Rory?


And Rory in nerdy 60s getup?


Squeeeeee!

Future husband, take notes.






http://heart-sc.deviantart.com/art/You-have-to-look-behind-you-207263324

A Study in Time (Sherlock/Doctor Who)

Coincidence? I think not!

I see you there, Stephen Moffat.


"Owing to the bold and dashing hand in which this writing had been inscribed, a person seeing it for the first time, as Monty was doing, had a momentary illusion that there was more of it than was really the case. The wall seemed not so much a wall with writing on it as a mass of writing with a wall somewhere in the background. In actual fact, the complete opus, if one may so call it, consisted of two phrases: one over the mirror, the other to the left of it. The first ran 'Hi Baby', the second 'Hello there sweetie.'" - P. G. Wodehouse, The Luck of the Bodkins

The Clothes Make The Man... More Handsomer...

I haven't done a really self indulgent, inexcusably gratituous post in a while, so...

Skinny boys in suits!

No excuses. I have fun being this lame.

Perhaps it would be a little less lame if I wrote something interesting underneath each picture, but... what? What can I say? It's Andrew Garfield in a suit!

Additional points for nice hair.


Why is it so difficult to find a decent picture of Michael Crawford as a young man, be-suited or otherwise? And yes, I know: Michael Crawford.

Yes, Dick Van Dyke too.


Bonus round: longcoats!
X-)

You got yourself a forward-thinking guy with that hot potato in the sharp suit.

Hello all.

Just had an adorable moment - Grandma letting a bottle of milk down the stairwell with a piece of string...

Wanna know something sort of hilarious? I liked Andrew Garfield before he was 'famous' famous. Seriously. I hate it when people say that. But... look:

Andrew Garfield + Doctor Who!

He (and of course, of course, David Tennant) were the only bearable things about the Daleks in Manhattan and Evolution of the Daleks episodes. He wasn't even a major character - but Tay and I were rooting for him the whole time.
Besides the yumminess of Tennant and Garfield in the one show, there really wasn't that much else to like about that ghastly two-parter. Everything about those episodes was stupid. Horribly fake (as in, even I could do better!) New York accents? Yep. Pig slaves? Yep. 'Dalekanium'? Yep. Vomit inducing Dalek 'mating' (or whatever it was) scene? Yep.

This thing, whatever it was supposed to be?

Yep.

Eleven/Amy - Doctor Who - Dog Days are Over

Good Golly, Do I Miss Doctor Who!

Thank you, Kristen, for reminding me :-P

This is an audio clip - it won't take up as much download as a video. So at least listen to some of it. The violins at the beginning are amazing.

Also; click this.

Does it ever bother you that your life doesn't make any sense?

Those aren't his eyebrows; that's my aunt and uncle!

Hello all.

It has been a while, I know, since I wrote a blog post that would go into anybody's top ten most awesome, let alone my own... in fact it's been a horrifically long time since I wrote anything worth reading. Shock! horror! So, since Nanowrimo is creeping up again (yes, I know, this year has gone abominably fast!) I think I should ease myself back into writing with at least a few diary entries, hopefully some blogs, some storifying and (I sincerely hope) some luvverly letter scribblings!
I will probably (not certainly, but most probably) have time during these holidays to organise mineself.

Hee, I went off and did some internetty stuff because I was bored with the direction of this post - now I think I shall write a list (not a definitive one by any means) of lame stuff I like.

Doctor Who fanvids. But you already know this.

Cardigans.
Yes, I know, they're not lame all of the time. They're probably not even lame now, but when they are I will still like them.

Michael Crawford.

SAOs

Toilet Paper Dollies


Not buying/owning/wearing shoes.
(Note: I dislike shoes generally, but I recognise their potential for awesomeness. If only I could find a pair of shoes that were pretty, cheap and indestructible. My shoes never survive for more than a few months. And if only going barefoot wasn't such a fulfilling and grounding experience.)

Here we spiral into another random and unconnected tangent.


Woo-bear and I sat up late last night watching the Bela Lugosi version of Dracula. Because this film is black and white and PG rated, one would assume that it would be fairly safe pre-bedtime watching for a pair of young, innocent-minded, rather sheltered girls. As far as the actual character of Dracula goes, your assumption would be right. Count Dracula, as portrayed by Bela Lugosi (I do love that name!), is not particularly scary. You don't even see him sucking anyone's blood - the film always cuts before he reaches the victim's throat. (Good old Hays Code!) Besides, he makes this face: before doing so. This face suggests more 'I'm constipated!' or 'Your pajamas have rabbits on them?' than 'About to feast on your blood, woman!' in our opinions.

But.

The film includes this character.

Please don't judge me when I say that I lay awake for what felt like hours, terrified that this man would feature in any nightmares I might have once asleep. He isn't even a proper vampire, just a vampire wannabe, really (rather like Edward C. really. Ho, ho, ho, I haven't even read Twilight. Does that make my joke invalid?) who eats spiders and rats and stuff. Buuuut he's scary as all get-out and keeps escaping from his comic relief loony-bin supervisor and randomly showing up at Dracula's victim's house. Plus, there's a scene in which this happens:
(Explanation: everybody else runs into the garden, searching for Dracula. The housemaid enters, spooky guy says something and housemaid faints. Then spooky guy crawls across the floor towards her and the movie cuts to somewhere else. The housemaid is not mentioned again.)

*Screams but doesn't faint because fainting is dumb as illustrated above*

So Tay and I turned off this horror-fest of horror and watched Elmo in Grouchland instead. Which is also disturbing but features Mandy Patikin (Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.) wearing fake eyebrows and singing.

Doctor Whoooooo

Dark hair fell in a sweep over his forehead. He looked like a man who would write vers libre, as indeed he did.

Wanted to do a proper blog with words and pictures and stuff, but my fingers are just little pointy icicles right now. And I'm not staying up until the crack of dawn again.

The last two episodes of Doctor Who were splendiferous. I nearly cried with Van Gogh. And I want the Doctor for a housemate. X) (Have a feeling I'll hate next week's episode though. Coz I hate hate hate hate hate River Song. Stupid name. Lame character of intense awfulness.)

Goodnight poppets. Dream happy dreams of hobbit holes and tigers and strawberries.

I'm Burning Up A Sun Just To Say Goodbye

Good evening. Love this song.

I'm not going to do a gigantic spiel about French literature tonight. (Well, probably not) Do I hear any sighs of relief?


Instead I'm going to go all fan-girly for just a little bit. David Tennant. Yes. One of the least subtle actors ever - but still brilliance x1000. In a way, his intense acting feels more honest - he seems to throw himself into a role so thoroughly. And who could ask for a better role than the Doctor? He was AWESOME. The last few episodes with him in them (the ones I saw, at least) were awful though. You can't create a cheerful, selfless hero and turn him into an angry emo at the last second.

Had a bit of a challenging afternoon. Partly my fault for not getting enough sleep last night; partly because the little ones were sick :( Poor loves. Joshua ran over with a tissue every time he saw Minnie's nose was runny and tried to wipe it for her. Of course, she'd twist and struggle and end up with gunk all over her face, but it's the thought that counts! I adore these children.

I finished The Castle of Otranto late last night (one of the reasons I was sleepy today) ; the first English Gothic novel. It was hilarious! Pictures of ancestors come to life, giant limbs are seen (and never explained) mysteriously peeping around doorframes, maidens run away to forests aaaaand... a skeleton shows up in monk's habit! One of those books that you read and feel slightly guilty upon realising afterwards that you didn't care at all about the characters and couldn't wait to see what horrors fate had heaped upon them. Yes sir, the gothic motif has certainly moved on a bit.

The love of my grandparents is one of God's little gifts to keep me sane at the moment.

Fighting With My Addiction To Parentheses And Failing.

170th post! Huzzah! (Isn't it a pretty number?) Made smashed potatoes, steak and lebanese beans for my Lee-babies this evening (should go and make my own dinner sometime soon... if I can find any food!); I was singing 'Bring Him Home' in the kitchen whilst I cooked (with big operatic hand flourishes), and Joshy, the second youngest (he's 2), started echoing me on the last note of every line. "Let him beeeeee" - "Beeeeee" "Bring him hoooooome" - "Hooooome"! A-dorable.


Dang. Just missed QI. And tonight's theme was 'Gothic'! The literal exact word for what I'm studying right at this very moment! Argh! Just got my books for this study period. I love getting parcels. And the book I'm supposed to be finishing this week from last week is only 100 pages long! Score. I should have it down soon - it's a gothic novel of the 1700s, called The Castle of Otranto. Really looking forward to getting into this unit. :)

Why do I have nothing interesting to say? This is really quite depressing. My MP3 is frozen? That's not interesting. Just also depressing.

Borrowed the Les Miserable soundtrack from Marickville library; would so so much love to see it live! The movie with Liam Neeson and Geoffrey Rush is amazing. (Although it's the only movie in which I've ever really hated a character played by Claire Danes.)

Really do recommend it, though I half wish I had read the book first. There seems to be some sort of jinx on me finishing Les Miz - the first time I ordered it at Angus and Robertson the bookshop's computers had a meltdown and I had to wait four weeks instead of two for my copy. Then, when I was halfway through it (and, no joke, it's a seriously hefty volume!) it mysteriously went missing and hasn't been seen since. The second time I decided to order with QBD instead of A&R - my order went missing. I had to re-order. And then, when I was two-thirds through the book, I left it in the backyard and it got rained on! I have another copy now, ages later, but this, unlike the others, is not my usual 'Penguin Classics' edition, so maybe I'll get to read the ending someday... it's an amazing, redemptive story, that much I know. You feel so much for the convict turned philanthropist turned fugitive hero... and also so much for the legalistic, police-inspector anti-hero. Not to mention all the sympathy that 'les miserable' - the miserable people of France themselves - inspire!

Speaking of Victor Hugo. (Yes, we were speaking of him; he wrote the above book.) He also wrote the muchly famous novel: The Hunchback of Notre Dame. (Although the original French is Notre Dame de Paris. Hugo hated the English title because he meant the book to be about the cathedral and its surroundings: it isn't Quasimodo-central) I actually managed to finish this one; long, depressing but fascinating look at depraved human nature. Seriously, I can't in any way see how any person affiliated with Disney could ever have looked at this story and gone 'Hey, what a great idea for a kids' movie!' I only watched it for the first time a few days ago. (With Jayden :D)

Hard as it may be to believe, Frollo is actually more sympathetic in the original. All that stuff he tells Quasimodo is true - about the mother abandoning him and all. In the original book Frollo starts off as a loving older brother/guardian to a juvenile delinquent uni student - a man who takes on the deformed baby foundling out of the goodness of his own heart. It's the gypsy girl, of course, who sets off his long descent into utter depraved craaaaziness. (She is, by the by, a vacuous, shallow airhead, who - spoilers - actually does die at the end.) The plot is tons more complicated than the Disney adaptation. Weird as it sounds, Quasimodo is the changeling child that the gypsies swapped Esmeralda for... so she isn't even really a gypsy. Her own birth mother is the one who betrays her to Frollo at the end - what's worse is that they realise, as the soldiers ride to arrest her, that they're mother and daughter. It's absolutely horrible. Oh, and Phoebus is a totally horrible person who uses Esmeralda and doesn't even remember her name.
The whole Hellfire sequence, (which I shall address shortly), from the Disney one, (in which Frollo struggles with his lust for Esmeralda and decides she shall 'be mine or burn' or words to that effect) happens in monologue/conversation several times: here's a little direct quote for you.

"Then, running, and drawing her after him, for he still kept hold of her, he went straight to the gibbet, and pointing to it: 'Choose between us,' said he, coolly."

Now, as to why anybody would want to make a kids' movie about a mixed up, physically deformed man, a depraved priest, a playboy soldier and an idiot gypsy... I have no idea. Despite cutting out most of the story and quite a bit of the eeeeeevilness, our beloved animating company certainly stepped straight into the deep end with this production. Have you listened to Hellfire? Talk about adult content! Images; words that will trouble children for decades. Basically, no. I won't post it here, profaning my blog with such disturbia. And the rest of it! Seriously depressing stuff! The ugly guy is beaten up in public, the gypsy mother dies in the first five minutes, people are burned alive, nearly hanged, dodgily molested... what the heck? There's even poledancing! Why, Disney, why?

I must go to sleep now. Busy day tomorrow.
Kisses and hugs.

My soul belongs to God I know/I made that bargain long ago/He gave me hope when hope was gone/He gave me strength to carry on!

Excuse me—I'm making perfect sense, you're just not keeping up.

Hello all.

Just watched Doctor Who. Pretty OK episode (though I passionately hated the stupid lizard women. Man, I think I would have killed them myself, and been branded a lesser human being for it. Either that or I would have offered the prisoner lizard lady cups of tea and smiled irritatingly, complimenting her on her scales or something whilst she hurled abuse. Some pretty bad acting in this episode, although the end of it nearly made me cry.), but I'm super duper mad about what that bloomin' show did to my favourite new character. First Donna Noble and now... but I won't say. Just in case one of you hasn't watched it and plans to.



This new Matt Smith person surely has a spectacular set of cheekbones, whatever else can be said about him...


Today, for the first time, I had a sudden wish to wear lipstick. I've never bought any; never owned any that I particularly liked, but today, with my pink shoes and my pink scarf and my pink nailpolish... well. I'd probably feel weird and self-conscious with it on, though. And I wouldn't wear it more than biannually.

I miss you so, so much my friends. (Particularly those two of you whose names begin with E and K). Please don't forget me...