![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
oirantiny tech: Apparently, I don't get enough presents. That's what Mr. G told me, which explains my getting a birthday present three weeks before the actual date. He made the possible mistake of telling me that I should expect FedEx to bring me something, which resulted in me being unwilling to leave the house during business hours for two days so as not to miss out on the delivery, much less allow the package to cool, so to speak, before being torn open.
Anyway, present: After a brief and unsatisfactory trial run with iTunes and their horrid proprietary formats, we'd been discussing non-Apple mp3 player options and the Mr. suggested that the Creative Labs Zen Micro was the best option. My response: "Ooh! It comes in orange!" which, as far as I am concerned, equals superior product. (Seriously - currently, I'm all a-squee about the Sedona Orange washers and dryers from Kenmore just for the fact of their existence and not any need for major appliances.)
Once FedEx Man delivered, I did indeed rip apart the box to find a small orange gadget with wonderful sound quality and rather excellent file organizing software. I stayed up late to load songs (as it turns out, I can easily identify 5GB worth of songs I think I should have along at all times) while watching a second episode of House.
House: Watched the pilot a few days ago, then watched the second episode (in terms of airing order - I'm not sure if this was the intended order or not, since apparently they're airing in wrong sequence) last night. I'm tentatively in favor of the show, but this second episode had a lot of...crap in it. Networky sentimentality and jumping to conclusions that are (surprise, surprise) fortuitously correct. Perhaps it's having two dormant brain parasite episodes in a row that bothers me. It seems very one-trick at the moment.
However, I love all of the characters except for Wilson. I don't dislike him, but he's boring. But then, remember - only two episodes viewed.
I love Dr. House very much. I never worked with anyone that frank and cranky, but it certainly matches up with my feelings about medicine as a practice. Of course, I'm not an MD and I could never actually say those things at work, but it gives me a little thrill to hear thoughts so similar to mine coming from the mouth of even a fictional doctor. I worry (based on the second ep) that the writers are going to make him a secret softie and I really, really don't want to see that happen. I prefer damaged, defensive, indifferent and bitter in my antiheroes, I suppose.
What's the girl doctor's name? Also, she got much prettier between episodes one and two which makes me think ep 2 should have come later in sequence since her appearance is so changed.
Dr. Chase must have a wonderfully sticky and guilt-ridden boarding school boyhood. "Must" as in "I require this to be true."
Where the hell has Omar Epps been? I can't even remember why I like him or what I liked him in because it's been so long, but he's here now and I am pleased.
Anyway, despite the cloying audience pandering already evidenced, I am hopeful re: House. I've got eleven more episodes to watch. I've got my fingers crossed for NO MORE DORMANT BRAIN PARASITES and, really, we must be done with the brain worms because that's not much of a concept to base a series around, now is it?
the other Elvis: Elvis Costello tonight at the Ryman!!!!! Here's hoping that the people around us won't be drunk and disorderly, though the odds are against us. Still, Mr. Costello is the hands-down best audience wrangler of any performer I've ever seen, capable of soothing the most savage beast just by being utterly compelling.
rentboys - fantasy and reality: Do you ever wonder if your overwhelming fascination with carnality, exploitation and debasement is adversely affecting your ability to tell the difference between acceptable and reprehensible behaviors? Well, I do. Not that my daily routine is likely to bring me into contact with anyone who might be harmed by my warped sensibilities, but I worry nonetheless.
This past Saturday, the Mr. and I had a very nice errand day that was sort of like a date (a weird date, but still...). Our travels took us through a rural area where we were able to spot a few hints of spring visible amongst the mud and sticks that constitute a Southern winter. We ate expensive sandwiches from the faux-French bakery, I took (bad) pictures from within the moving car, and, of course, we got our errands done, as well. Lovely day, really.
On the way home, driving through downtown, the Mr. had to turn on a side street because of a construction detour. On a deserted street, in the middle of the block, a single small person appeared out of nowhere and presented himself to us. Short, slender, about six months past his last haircut and with a very pretty face. Turned on his heel, walked a step and a half backwards, flipping hair out of his eyes with a gesture too big for his slight frame, and peered into our car with a penetrating gaze. Were we interested? It's hard to explain this properly, but if you've ever driven through whatever passes for a whore district in your own town, you know this body language, too, and you can recognize the stance of someone who is for sale.
Mr. G said, "That's a prostitute!" in shocked surprise, not because he's never seen a prostitute before, but because a male child prostitute is not what you expect to find in the middle of a sunny Saturday in a city in the Bible Belt. I was also surprised because not only was this boy the first male prostitute I've seen in Nashville, but he was also the youngest-seeming I've seen anywhere. He looked about 12, which means he could have been anywhere between 10 and 15 - I can't tell how old kids are any more. I'd heard that there was a male prostitution problem downtown, but had never seen evidence before, and I'd sort of assumed the prostitutes in question were at least semi-adults.
I am happy to report that I did not demand that Mr. G pull over and buy me a whore. I hadn't realized that I had been worried about my ability to separate the fantasy (yummy) from the reality (depressing and wrong) in such instances, but my reaction did reassure me. I was, in fact, horrified and immediately struck by a strange urge to do someting...maternal?
(...and here's where I took out a whole bunch of stuff about prostitution, male vs. female, public sympathies, etc. I think it deserves it's own post and some more thinking from me.)
Anyway, I am still very upset about the actual rentboy, though realistically there is nothing I can do for him, and social services here are perhaps even more of a joke than they are in other places. I keep trying out help-the-whore scenarios in my head, and they all come to naught. His existence has somewhat dampened my enthusiasm for imaginary boywhores, but only somewhat, which probably means I am evil. Still, even in my imaginings, they're significantly older than him. I mean, really! He's just a child! If I see him again...well, I don't know what I'll do. Something well-meaning and probably of no actual use, I suspect.
Gankutsuou: I have been checking the fansub site literally every few hours waiting for episode 20 of Gankutsuou to be released. When the series is completed, I'll probably be trying to force disks onto people because it's so beautifully done, both visually and dramatically. Even the music isgood okay. There's a link to the official site on my LJ page if you're interested in just seeing what it looks like. Apparently, quite a few people don't like the visual style because it's so saturated and overwhelming, but to me it's like basking in the rays of a fierce little star. And, as I mentioned the other day, a particularly cathartic episode occasioned a long bout of hysterical sobbing and reversed my feelings about a specific character from tender empathy to utter abhorrence. I can't think of the last time a movie, series, book, or living person managed to turn me around so completely in a mere 20 minutes. It really is very good.
remix: Oh, fuckity. I'd better get cracking on this, eh? I'm more than a little intimidated by the author I'm remixing (even though I got exactly the person I'd hoped for and thus cannot complain), so I want to make this good. No, not good - perfect. Yeah, well. I should be hoping for 'coherent' at this point.
I need to sit down and answer comments and e-mails, finish adding people from the velvetglove f-list to this one, and make a ton of "thoughtful" posts about things like scissors, prostitution, and what all my icons are about. I also see that![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-syndicated.gif)
koimistress posted about Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, and I want to attempt an articulate response there, as well. However, as is becoming my pattern when faced with mental challenges, I'm going to take the dog for a walk instead.
Anyway, present: After a brief and unsatisfactory trial run with iTunes and their horrid proprietary formats, we'd been discussing non-Apple mp3 player options and the Mr. suggested that the Creative Labs Zen Micro was the best option. My response: "Ooh! It comes in orange!" which, as far as I am concerned, equals superior product. (Seriously - currently, I'm all a-squee about the Sedona Orange washers and dryers from Kenmore just for the fact of their existence and not any need for major appliances.)
Once FedEx Man delivered, I did indeed rip apart the box to find a small orange gadget with wonderful sound quality and rather excellent file organizing software. I stayed up late to load songs (as it turns out, I can easily identify 5GB worth of songs I think I should have along at all times) while watching a second episode of House.
House: Watched the pilot a few days ago, then watched the second episode (in terms of airing order - I'm not sure if this was the intended order or not, since apparently they're airing in wrong sequence) last night. I'm tentatively in favor of the show, but this second episode had a lot of...crap in it. Networky sentimentality and jumping to conclusions that are (surprise, surprise) fortuitously correct. Perhaps it's having two dormant brain parasite episodes in a row that bothers me. It seems very one-trick at the moment.
However, I love all of the characters except for Wilson. I don't dislike him, but he's boring. But then, remember - only two episodes viewed.
I love Dr. House very much. I never worked with anyone that frank and cranky, but it certainly matches up with my feelings about medicine as a practice. Of course, I'm not an MD and I could never actually say those things at work, but it gives me a little thrill to hear thoughts so similar to mine coming from the mouth of even a fictional doctor. I worry (based on the second ep) that the writers are going to make him a secret softie and I really, really don't want to see that happen. I prefer damaged, defensive, indifferent and bitter in my antiheroes, I suppose.
What's the girl doctor's name? Also, she got much prettier between episodes one and two which makes me think ep 2 should have come later in sequence since her appearance is so changed.
Dr. Chase must have a wonderfully sticky and guilt-ridden boarding school boyhood. "Must" as in "I require this to be true."
Where the hell has Omar Epps been? I can't even remember why I like him or what I liked him in because it's been so long, but he's here now and I am pleased.
Anyway, despite the cloying audience pandering already evidenced, I am hopeful re: House. I've got eleven more episodes to watch. I've got my fingers crossed for NO MORE DORMANT BRAIN PARASITES and, really, we must be done with the brain worms because that's not much of a concept to base a series around, now is it?
the other Elvis: Elvis Costello tonight at the Ryman!!!!! Here's hoping that the people around us won't be drunk and disorderly, though the odds are against us. Still, Mr. Costello is the hands-down best audience wrangler of any performer I've ever seen, capable of soothing the most savage beast just by being utterly compelling.
rentboys - fantasy and reality: Do you ever wonder if your overwhelming fascination with carnality, exploitation and debasement is adversely affecting your ability to tell the difference between acceptable and reprehensible behaviors? Well, I do. Not that my daily routine is likely to bring me into contact with anyone who might be harmed by my warped sensibilities, but I worry nonetheless.
This past Saturday, the Mr. and I had a very nice errand day that was sort of like a date (a weird date, but still...). Our travels took us through a rural area where we were able to spot a few hints of spring visible amongst the mud and sticks that constitute a Southern winter. We ate expensive sandwiches from the faux-French bakery, I took (bad) pictures from within the moving car, and, of course, we got our errands done, as well. Lovely day, really.
On the way home, driving through downtown, the Mr. had to turn on a side street because of a construction detour. On a deserted street, in the middle of the block, a single small person appeared out of nowhere and presented himself to us. Short, slender, about six months past his last haircut and with a very pretty face. Turned on his heel, walked a step and a half backwards, flipping hair out of his eyes with a gesture too big for his slight frame, and peered into our car with a penetrating gaze. Were we interested? It's hard to explain this properly, but if you've ever driven through whatever passes for a whore district in your own town, you know this body language, too, and you can recognize the stance of someone who is for sale.
Mr. G said, "That's a prostitute!" in shocked surprise, not because he's never seen a prostitute before, but because a male child prostitute is not what you expect to find in the middle of a sunny Saturday in a city in the Bible Belt. I was also surprised because not only was this boy the first male prostitute I've seen in Nashville, but he was also the youngest-seeming I've seen anywhere. He looked about 12, which means he could have been anywhere between 10 and 15 - I can't tell how old kids are any more. I'd heard that there was a male prostitution problem downtown, but had never seen evidence before, and I'd sort of assumed the prostitutes in question were at least semi-adults.
I am happy to report that I did not demand that Mr. G pull over and buy me a whore. I hadn't realized that I had been worried about my ability to separate the fantasy (yummy) from the reality (depressing and wrong) in such instances, but my reaction did reassure me. I was, in fact, horrified and immediately struck by a strange urge to do someting...maternal?
(...and here's where I took out a whole bunch of stuff about prostitution, male vs. female, public sympathies, etc. I think it deserves it's own post and some more thinking from me.)
Anyway, I am still very upset about the actual rentboy, though realistically there is nothing I can do for him, and social services here are perhaps even more of a joke than they are in other places. I keep trying out help-the-whore scenarios in my head, and they all come to naught. His existence has somewhat dampened my enthusiasm for imaginary boywhores, but only somewhat, which probably means I am evil. Still, even in my imaginings, they're significantly older than him. I mean, really! He's just a child! If I see him again...well, I don't know what I'll do. Something well-meaning and probably of no actual use, I suspect.
Gankutsuou: I have been checking the fansub site literally every few hours waiting for episode 20 of Gankutsuou to be released. When the series is completed, I'll probably be trying to force disks onto people because it's so beautifully done, both visually and dramatically. Even the music is
remix: Oh, fuckity. I'd better get cracking on this, eh? I'm more than a little intimidated by the author I'm remixing (even though I got exactly the person I'd hoped for and thus cannot complain), so I want to make this good. No, not good - perfect. Yeah, well. I should be hoping for 'coherent' at this point.
I need to sit down and answer comments and e-mails, finish adding people from the velvetglove f-list to this one, and make a ton of "thoughtful" posts about things like scissors, prostitution, and what all my icons are about. I also see that
koimistress posted about Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, and I want to attempt an articulate response there, as well. However, as is becoming my pattern when faced with mental challenges, I'm going to take the dog for a walk instead.
