(no subject)

My alarm clock just went off. At 2:35am. I know, for it tells me and then makes a doodledoo noise. It isn't set for 0235. It made the beep like somebody hit the button to ask the time, then it went off.

I'd say "it's a good thing I'm not superstitious", but I'd be lying.
I'm not freaked out about this - somewhat to my surprise - but I'm not getting any closer to asleep any time soon either.

(no subject)

I read the Torchwood book 'Something in the Water'.
All plot, no character. The voices are okay and everyone gets something to do, but... Ianto only does cleaning and a bit of efficient violence. No snark, no flirting, no distinctive interaction. Jack uses a word I can't hear in his voice, and shoots stuff a lot, and has fun with immortality. Tosh actually saves the world with Science, which would be neater if it was actually in her speciality but is pretty cool. Owen voice is very Owen-y, and he gets a bit shaken at one point in interesting ways, but aside from that? There's nothing personal in it, no background, little feel for how they're reacting. So it's just 'a bunch of things happen' with a whole lot less 'to our team' than I'd like.
Most interesting thing was the precision in the timing - has to have happened between 2-03 and 2-04, which therefore take place far enough apart for everyone to heal up after all this.
Have you noticed how the books are messier and more violent? It's like they don't have to worry about makeup or rating or FX so they just rip everything up and nearly kill everyone. Meh.

Yeah, I'd be happier reading a book length version of That Date. Any of the various permutations of That Date except for Gwen/Rhys who I actually feel we've seen enough of. Everyone else we still need to see.

And Gwen/Owen being dropped as a story thread is sort of annoying. I mean, I know there's actual 3D relationships that just happen to go like that, but as story it is weird.

Anyway.

It is now 0423. Even given that I only have to get up at 1045 I'm awake too bloody late. Useful.



Also today I read 'The Game', the Diana Wynne Jones book I also bought on the way home.
It was fun, in a kid book way, which is what I got it for.

Between the two I just got through like £10 of books in one day.
The book habit, it is not cheap.

dreams: freaky

Night of much dreamings.
... actually I typed Knight. That's cooler.

First I dreamed that we were preparing for a formal visit from a captain from another group, who was considering joining us. Captain Nyx had brought him and his crew in. Now Captain Nyx was acting funny. As were all the crew of the other guy. I could see they all had little demons wrapped around their necks, big tails and leathery bat wings and all. The other guy assumed that we couldn't see them, but I had shared my sight with my people so we could. So we were all trying to keep a straight face and look calm and, well, not wet ourselves while thinking of a new plan. There was much hissing and trying to figure out if the other Captain was a demon duke or prince, but he wasn't either and they couldn't figure it out. Then when he was leaving after the first day of negotiations (and I'd checked he hadn't left behind any more of them demons) I figured out some of it. I told them to let me free, let me off not just leash but collar. I had silver chains, which was pretty but I needed out. Because I figured out what he was was what I was, or would be when I grew up.
Which rather suggests demon princess, giving birth to little control machines, but we were very flat chested princesses if we were. In rather nice suits. Which works.

So then the dream changed and I was a girl on a bus and the bus stopped to change a cracked window and I bolted out and threw up. Yes, I dreamed of vomiting. Joy.
There was a local map at the side of the road. I threw up on Cardiff.
... sorry.

After that the coach took us to a local cinema, where a creaky old black and white film was just finishing, and after it there was a different creaky old film where some people were demonstrating a dance For All The Family. There was an old bloke and a middle aged woman and a ten year old, all wearing vests and shorts, and dancing something that involved lots of hand waving and sticking your bum out and wiggling and then turning around and doing it all again. Very enthralling. The coach party left.
But I noticed the locals didn't leave, and just gave the tourists the glare of doom, so I snagged a friend and we did the classic 'too busy making out to notice we're supposed to leave' cover story, and ended up leaning up against a window where the safety glass was broken so there was just metal mesh. Through that I could see the locals on a little enclosed green all dressing up in green robes and silly hats. One of them noticed us and the old bloke in charge said it was great and he only wished we would go all the way so they could harvest it for the festival.
Eeew.
Only then dream-me realised that I was in fact distracted enough that any further state of distraction would require birth control, and rather lost track of the plot.

And all that would be a fairly typical dream for me, if the friend I'd grabbed had been a TV character and if the locals had not in fact included the Two Ronnies.

WTF subconscious? W.T.F.?


Right, up and dressed for college now. Got a quarter hour. No worries.


PS The car just arrived. A quarter hour early. Arrgh!

(no subject)

I went to college. We read a thing in the reader, discussed it (or typed and let someone read), then watched the rest of Belle de Jour, which is fucking creepy and I'm glad I never have to watch again.

Teacher had to go to the nurse because he did something to his eye.
And he's the one who chose the texts, it's that bad... ;-)
So he came back with an eyepatch and made some points about the male gaze and told us to read that Mulvey essay for next week. I read it a bunch already. I guess I read it again.

Then there was an hour before the car arrived and I still lack two Torchwood books. So, I figured I could get up to Borders an back in an hour. It took me half an hour to get there, so I sped round the shop, found the Torchwood books, found that now only the vast majority of them are Something in the Water and they had some of the ones with Ianto in clown face on the front, picked one of them up and went to ask about the other one, and the guy at the info desk wanted to talk about Wednesday's episode. Which would be win. But I thought I didn't have any time. So I had to hurry and pay and get back.

Only it only took me 15 minutes to get back, so I could have talked.

It breaks the laws of space time though. I mean, same journey, same route, half the time. Meh.

Maybe it made a big difference being stuck behind that fat woman with the baby buggy.

ANYways, I am home now, and can go to sleep.



Oh, and we got the first assignment. I'm writing it about Battleship Potemkin. Finding something new to say about it will be bloody impossible, but it doesn't make me want to hurl, except for the bit with the maggots and I don't have to choose that bit to focus on. We could choose any of the other films, but, no.

I so tired. There's a whole lack of fair about how I end up so tired. *sulk*


PS yes if I can get to the book shop I can get to the bus stop. and save £12. But then I have to get from the bus stop to my house, which involves crossing the road with my highest error rate at the time I'm most tired. Not of the good. The other roads have crossings or lots of people to follow. Easier.

PPS Hey I must be getting quicker on my feets. Go me.