His name is Oswald? Seriously? They might as well have called him Patsy. Or Fall Guy. Scapegoat. Red Herring.
In other news... My iPhone really doesn't want me to type the word Tor Cheops For halo Torched Told haw Toe halo Torchwood.
Tor Cheops is my favourite, by the way. Love the juxtaposition of Celtic geology with Egyptian archaeology!
Hello there. I'm back. I am alive, just barely. It's a long and dramatic (and sometimes funny) story. I'll tell you when I've got the time and energy.
In the meantime, though... I really have to comment on my boobs. Apparently they're very young. That's the phrase that both the doctor in Canada used in the summer and the one here used today. Very young breasts.
I'm thinking of covering my face and baring my tits from now on when I go out. Want to put my best foot forward you know. So to speak...
Also, I'm watching Big Bang Theory right now and they just referenced Klingon Monopoly. Really? I mean clearly if there were going to be a Star Trek-based Monopoly it should be Ferengi, not Klingon. Well, duh!
Three weeks ago I went to a church.I specifically chose the one I did because it was the closest one that didn't seem to be entirely focussed on children (according to the website). I am neither a child, nor the parent of a child, nor particularly fond of children as a species (apparently they grow up into humans, you know). It was very small — ridiculously so — and kind of comically uncool. There were children there, but nobody paid them over much attention, which is ideal in my mind.
Today I went back. I almost didn't recognise the place. They've got a new vicar. He's about 30, has Camden-Market-type hair, and wears a hoodie. The congregation had almost tripled in size and consisted of smiling, matching, trendy young marrieds with their cuter-than-seems-natural children, several of whom did entirely too much shrieking. In other words, in three weeks the place has transformed into the Church Formerly Known as Rhymes with Sodomise.
Hmm... I'll give it another go, but I'm not filled with hopefulness at this point. Oh, and I checked out the website again. Guess what... They're now all about the children. And the appallingly bad grammar...
In other news... I've decided to join a book club. Specifically, a science fiction book club. First meet-up is tomorrow night. I suppose I should start reading the book in question, eh?
Have you seen the IT Crowd? This is my life. I am Jen. I am IT's idea of a people person. Me.
Actually, no. Wait. I think I'm Roy masquerading as Jen. Or possibly Jen masquerading as Roy. One or the other.
Oh, except I spend my days buying things on the internet because I have nothing else to do. No, hang on... That sounds aboot right.
Also, sometimes people can tell I'm Canadian when I say about. Because I say aboot. Apparently.
Also also, I had some drinky drinky.
I should be packing. I should be sorting through my millions of boxes of crap. I should be catching up on badly needed sleep.
I should be doing pretty much anything other than watching The Story of Maths on TV. But guess what I'm doing...
My prospective employer is currently doing a complete background check on me. This morning I woke up to an e-mail informing me that I had failed to properly justify the gap in my employment history. The 'gap' in question covers the period of January 2000 to May 2000.
I had been asked to provide 10 years' of employment history. Since my work at a small local company fell entirely outside of the 10-year window, I left it off. But apparently, when they said 10 years, what they meant was 10.5 years. Or maybe 11 calendar years... Not sure. Either way, I hadn't provided the info because it hadn't been requested (it had specifically NOT been requested). And now it's an issue.
I love HR. Really...
Ugh. I'm sure it will work out, but I figured there was bound to be some HR ridiculousness along the way. I wouldn't have predicted the specifics of the absurdity, but I was sure there would be some.
When I got out of bed I found my street looking decidedly autumnal (although it was 40 degrees out). Several people were spreading the finishing touches of dead leaves and detritus around.
After taking the boys to the vet for their pre-flight check-up and picking up a bottle of anti-depressants for Velcro, I went to work. Well, sort of. I kind of — erm — went to the wrong work. I got on the completely wrong subway line. After several stops I noticed that something felt wrong. Ya, I was most of the way to the job I left in November.
And now some scenes from my 'hood.
Also, Noah Wyle stood about five metres away from me at one point this evening. He looked over and smiled right at me Velcro dog. Then he blew up. Safely, of course. Lots of fire and smoke, but no harm to anybody.
I sat and watched as they filmed a few scenes. I've never seen so many iPhones in one place before.
At another point I accidentally walked into the middle of a scene. A guy screamed: Stop! Somebody just came out of that house.
Also also, I've never really noticed before, but Noah Wyle is kind of gorgeous.
Update the First: You know, it occurs to me that it probably didn't help that I was reading a Douglas Coupland novel in which the characters matter-of-factly discuss characters in a Douglas Coupland novel.
Update the Second: The picture I couldn't get because I was busy sitting on the road, covering Velcro Dog's ears (courtesy of my housemate)...
The second piece of my news came through today. I signed the lease on a house in the village about which Daniel Defoe waxed so eloquently. Well, it was a village 300 years ago. Now it's part of London. That's right, London, which is where I will be living as of NEXT FRAKKING WEEK.
Oh, and while we were interviewing prospective tenants / housemates to take my room in my house in Toronto, Noah Wyle was filming an alien invasion TV show outside the window. In fact, we had to conduct one interview in the semi-dark so as not to be visible on screen in a supposedly abandoned house. For that (and for being too lazy to mow our lawn for a month), we are receiving $200. And my house will be in a TV series — a science fiction TV series.
Of course, I didn't see Noah Wyle (aka Dr Carter from ER) because I was inside interviewing a random Irish dude in the dark. Maybe I'll see him tomorrow, and he'll fall madly in love with — um — Velcro Dog.
Guess whose house is going to be in a new science fiction tv series. Oh ya...
A production manager came by to explain all about it. He said not to worry if I see any, like, signs of alien invasion. It's not a real alien invasion, you know...
Of course, if I were leading an alien invasion I would totally invade in the midst of all that. On the sly like, you know?
Watching Fanboys as I write this. As excellent as it is, I've got to say... It offends my sensibilities as a true science fiction geek. I am sorry, but Star Wars is NOT real science fiction.
And now we're watching Plavalaguna's favourite, Glee. She likes the drama and the singy bits. I enjoy the snark. And occasionally the ridiculosity...
In other news... Last week I did the online application for my work visa, paid the exorbitant fee and made an appointment to take all my supporting documents to the visa office. Today was that appointment.
There was a woman in there also applying for a visa. She had previously applied for — and been awarded — a visa. She had even moved to the UK. And then her passport was stolen...
Canadian passports command the highest price on the black market, it would seem. The Canadian embassy gladly replaced her passport. Then they sent her home to reapply for an all-new exorbitantly expensive visa.
Here's hoping she makes it back again in time for her own wedding!
I've got a baaaaaaaaaad feeling about this...
I was always more of a Star Trek fan anyways.
Ooh... Once upon a time I wrote a novel just like this week's episode. Sort of... Different characters, though. Different realities too. Same villain, though. Sort of... And, okay, so I didn't so much 'write' as 'start writing'.
Whatever. Stop talking to me when I'm cross! Or something.
Anyways, what I'm trying to say is my name is Sars and I approved of this episode.
I don't understand Amy's choice, though.
Okay, so previously we had Helo playing a Helo-like character on the late, lamented (by me) Dollstar Galactica Slayer.
Next came an earth-bound clone of Chief Tyrol on the Bridge. With more girlfriends...
But oh, Sam. Poor Sam... He always deserved so much better than being Starbuck's consolation prize. Or jealousy inducement device, depending on your perspective... And now he deserves better than being Nikki Heat's consolation prize. Or jealousy inducement device, depending on your perspective...
Oh, and poor Apollo while I'm at it.
So, to recap... BSG actors have been typecast in their BSG roles and women are bitches.
William Shatner for Governor General? That's a bandwagon I'm prepared to jump all over.
The GG is basically a PR gig. And who better at PR than the man who turned the world's mockery of him into a successful comeback?
So, go on, Bill. Boldly go for it.
20 minutes in...
Box falls out of the sky. Man falls out of the box. Man eats fish custard.
I like him. But I still don't like his chin.
But seriously, what's the deal with her accent? Sometimes it's Scottish. Sometimes it's English. Sometimes it's American.
A bit later still...
A bow tie? Seriously?
Oh, Aaron Douglas... On BSG I always had a bit of a thing for Tyrol. I mean, sure, Helo was the resident hottie. And Apollo had a certain je ne sais quoi. But for me... The Chief was always the one.
And now he's back from outer space — so to speak — in the Bridge. It's a cop drama with nary a cylon in sight. Although a toaster wouldn't go amiss, you know? Homocidal cybernetic ex-girlfriends aside, he seems to play the same character in a different setting.
And it looks like it might be filmed in Toronto. Which means I just have time to stalk the filming locations until Mr Douglas spots me and falls madly in love with me before I pick up and move to England. Shame...
Just one comment on the show itself... I had a really hard time telling what's now and what's supposed to be last year. Somebody needs a different haircut, or at least a different shirt or something.
Ooh, and they filmed at least one scene around the corner from my house. Or possibly in front of a skeezy diner that looks like the one by my house...
Also, the lesbian cop... Look at her from the side profile — I'm pretty sure she's at least part Cardassian.
As I was walking down the street the other day, I passed a woman walking a dog. The small, wee dog was wearing small, wee booties. Aw, little boots, I thought to myself. This immediately led me to wonder if they call him Caligula, and this in turn made me giggle. Is it any wonder so few people get me?
Speaking of evil dictators, I watched a documentary on Vlad the Impaler a few days ago. They showed several portraits and statues of the original Dracula, and I was struck by the extremely close resemblance he bore to a certain co-worker of mine. If you took Vlad the Impaler and put him in a great big, frizzy, fire-engine red wig, a 1980s power suit, and purple stockings, you would have my co-worker. This person sits directly across from me, but I have no actual interaction with her. What's more, she speaks with a thick Romanian accent.
There is only one possible explanation. The circumstances surrounding Vlad's death are mysterious. I believe this is because he was magically transported some 535 years into the future, where he was able to live out his deepest, darkest fantasy: to become a transvestite and work in the IT department of a large multinational corporation that functions like a three-man dry cleaning operation.
Speaking of ancient dictators, have you seen Ancients Behaving Badly? It's good. You should watch it — except not the one about Nero. It's a load of wank. The one expert dude (I swear) wanted to dig him up and have his babies.
And while I'm on this theme... A main character in the novel I'm reading just had an encounter with Julius Caesar, who wasn't really all that badly behaved as dictators go. But I was a on a roll, so I decided to run with it.
It's just like BSG. Minus the B, the S, and the G. But other than that, it's exactly the same.
Frakkin' Kat. I didn't like you on Real BSG, and I don't like you now. Get off my story.
Well, well, well... Sexy Sister Clarice's plural marriage is beginning to look like even more fun.
Aw, muffin... The little baby cylon is falling in love with her dancing geek.
Do you have any idea how difficult it is to describe Caprica to somebody who's never seen BSG? Better still, try to provide a real-time explanation...
Is that a girl or a six-foot robot? How far into the future is this? Why does that robot look like a penis? What's a cylon? Oh, okay, so they're all cylons? They're not cylons? What's a fracken?