Yes, I read ahead… the episode won’t be on this side of the pond for a few weeks, but apparently Russell T. Davies has pulled one of his trademark mind screws on the Doctor Who-watching public with the last aired-over-there episode “The Stolen Earth.” If you aren’t like me and don’t like knowing what’s to come, don’t read the link — I am only mentioning it because the Wikipedia entry I read last night was markedly different from the one that’s up there now. By that I mean last night whoever typed in the synopsis must have either been reeling in shock from what he/she had just viewed, or was drunk of his/her ass, or both, because it was barely coherent and riddled with spelling mistakes, and also had a different picture (as in, much more spoilerrific) than the one they have there now. I wish I’d done a screen capture before some alert Wikipedia guardian came across the entry, went “oh shit,” and replaced it with the relatively sane one that’s there now. It just goes to show you can’t trust the internet, but you knew that already.
The good news is: the company I started working for yesterday want to hire me on permanently as soon as my allotted time with the temp agency is up. It’s just the sort of job I like — date entry and other office stuff, casual dress, a relaxed atmosphere. Actually it’s all good news. It’s a bit further from work than the other one, but it’s not that far, and as the job hours are 7 am to 4 pm, I avoid a good deal of morning traffic. (The afternoon is another matter, but 4 pm is still better than 5 o’clock.) The only thing I have to get used to is waking up before dawn, but I’ve never been a morning person so that’s always been something I have had to put up with. Another good thing is that they really need someone at this place — they are way understaffed — unlike the previous job where I always felt like an “extra.”
Thanks to everyone who has contributed to my Paypal and Amazon tipjar in the past couple of weeks! In the next few weeks I hope to get back on track, but the end of the month and rent looms…
I don’t know what I love more about That Time O’ the Month — is it the vicious cramps, the hormone-induced headaches and depression, or the feverish, sweaty feeling that makes me want to take a bath every hour? It’s so hard to choose! And if I’m lucky, I get to go through this for as much as ten more years, or maybe even more than that! Yep, I just love being a woman. Who needs upper body strength anyway?
A quick scan of the list of new series episodes confirms that Steven Moffat has written some of the best ones. (So far — part two, “Forest of the Dead,” isn’t on here until next week.) I hope he writes more — I vastly prefer his emphasis on gothic eeriness and the personal lives of the main characters to the heavy-handed moralizing and Doctor-as-Godlike-being jazz too many of the other writers indulge in. (Russell T. Davies, the current executive producer, is one of the worst offenders in the latter category. This is a person whose idea of subtlety is to put a song by some group called “The Scissor Sisters” on the soundtrack, and I’ll bet you somewhere in his closet is an “I hate Muggles” t-shirt. The fact that he’s written the last four episodes of this season already have me cringing in horrified anticipation. On the other hand, he did write “New Earth,” “Smith and Jones,” and “Gridlock,” which are three of my favorites.) Anyway, Moffat takes over as executive producer for the next season so maybe we won’t get as much of that “Guns are bad, mm-kay? But sonic screwdrivers that make things explode are A-okay…” business. We’ll see.
I’ll write more later. I will say that it’s rather cruel to create my dream planet (one giant library), and make it be haunted by flesh-eating shadows. It’s a good thing I’m not a kid watching this show now — I used to go to the library and run to the spooky, ill-lit stacks in the back at least once a week. Sometimes I wonder if “creative” people really think through the implications of their offerings. Oh wait — no I don’t.
Oh good lord! Sometimes it’s better not to look things up… actor Nigel Terry, who played the part of nutty General Cobb on the recent Doctor Who episode “The Doctor’s Daughter,” also played the part of Mortimer in Derek Jarman’s hard-gaytastic version of Edward II. Yes, I saw that movie in an art-house movie theater (I think it was the one next to my friend’s psychiatrist’s office on Miami Beach) when it came out. Anyone who has seen the movie will know why I feel all creepy now.
Sorry for the long silence, folks, I just haven’t felt like posting anything. I get ideas, they just don’t seem to want to make it from the brain to the fingers.
I will say, though, that I got a job — well, it’s a temporary position, but it’ll be for about a month, and who knows, maybe longer. This temp agency from Georgia of all places calls me out of the blue because they saw my resume online. The position is at a place down here, though — at the Florida headquarters of an Atlanta-based company. I did all my application filling-out stuff via computer and fax. I love the internet. I’m just waiting to be told where to go for my drug test sometime tomorrow, and if all goes well I’ll start the job Monday. That’s a good thing, because I am basically out of cash, except for what I have saved to pay a couple of bills.
And that’s it so far. I have old Doctor Who dvds to watch (from the Pertwee era, notable mostly for the odd Avengers vibe of the episodes and the fact that this Doctor might still be anti-gun but at least he gets to fight occasionally using karate moves and swords; yes the Xtreem pacifism of the current Doc is getting a tad tiresome). Also he wears a shirt with lace collar and cuffs. So, later, homes.
Update: one more thing — well, what do you know, a reason to go back to Belgium (where my mother and I spent one unmemorable day doing mostly nothing, as it was a saint’s day and everything was closed). Hey, this is the sort of thing that would fascinate me — I still wish I could find one of those old wooden card-catalogue cabinets, the ones with the tiny drawers that had those hook-shaped handles, and metal label holders for the paper labels. One day… (Thanks to reader aelfheld for that article.)
Then, madam, I suggest that you start building that basement holding cell, and invest in some arm and leg chains. Because although I am myself childless I have observed enough of life to be pretty sure that when most boys grow to maturity they do whatever they goddamn well please. So get crackin’ on that brainwashing already.