movies, music, and broken glass
08.10.04 @ 8:59 p.m.
Hmmmmmmm..... Life in la casa di Ellen.
Well. Due to stupidity, I cut out of work an hour early to go to the DMV to see about doing the written bit of the drivers' test, to find I don't have to. Whee. Drive test next Tuesday.
I want to go about this in an orderly manner, since I keep forgetting what it is I actually mean to talk about.
[Series 7]
Series 7 was very intriguing, and the actress who plays Dawn looks an awful lot like my aunt Sheila. (Basic plot: A reality television series where five contestants selected by lottery through gov't ID number plus the previous week's champion are handed guns and told the only way to survive is to kill all the competition in a series called "The Contenders." Set up as a marathon of Contender episodes.) The whole idea of a reality show that brings out the most horrible, animal, Lord of the Flies kind of attitudes in the contestants (and ghoulish voyeurism in the viewers at home) is thought provoking, especially as reality TV (horrors) takes a firmer and firmer hold on programming schedules. The ending was kind of, I dunno, stupid. Overplayed, too obviously parodic to the more satirical body of the movie. I like the one that was on the deleted scenes better.
Originally, I had said to my parents that the violence hadn't bothered me, since I have a more than healthy dose of media desensitization. And I honestly thought it hadn't. But then I woke up at three in the morning (unrelated; I had to pee something fierce) and had trouble falling asleep because an old man beating a teenage girl to death kept flashing across my mind's eye. Which was a bit disconcerting.
I suppose it's a sign of a good movie that I kept thinking about it the next day, thinkin' strategy. (Could you hide in a bunker-like reinforced house and let everyone else work at killing one another? What happens when the week is up if multiple people are still alive? Do you really want to let someone else get all experienced and good at killing while you hide, since you'll have to fight them in the end?)
[Isle of Wight]
Dad and I got there a half hour early, and the theater was packed by the time 7:30 actually rolled around. I got a Yes poster that I gave to the guy sitting next to me, as I'm not much of a Yes fan. As I suspected, the screening of the Who's performance at the 1970 Isle of Wight festival was a promotion for today's release of the DVD. To promote sales, the director introduced the film and a lengthy, recent interview with Pete Townshend preceeded the actual footage. Well, a portion of it. It was a teaser for the special features of the DVD.
It was brilliant and wonderful to see them all, especially Moon, at their peaks. John was charming in his skeleton suit, smiling every now and again. Roger was a riot of psychedelic tie-dye fringe, though I think his pants were a little too low riding, since it was enough to attract my attention. He was in exellent form. Moon was... adorable and funny, which just made me feel the tragedy of how quickly he aged in the 8 years between that footage and his death. Happy boy, playing madly, joking with Pete, losing a stick in the middle of "I Don't Even Know Myself"! Were you tortured, even then? I halfway feel like looking up that approximate era in Tony Fletcher's biography of the drummer. Pete looked lovely and scruffy and ferociously attacked his SG to produce staggeringly wonderful music. He's also quite funny, and surprised Dad with his self-deprecating remark that "I Can't Explain" made it to #14 on the charts, since that's quite good but not excellent/noteworthy position. Collective euphoria is a very good thing, though I have to agree with the Who Boy (and I'm sad to admit that he was much in my heart during the film) that they make rather a hash of Tommy, though not as bad as it could have been.
I've also never seen or heard the Who perform "Twist and Shout" before last night. Dad is amazed that I had the self control not to buy the Isle of Wight DVD before this. And how that pays off, since it's being re-released in a supposedly better version.
[work]
Not only is there nothing to do, but I actually smuggled a book to the area I was cleaning and wasted a lot of time reading it, and yet Gary was still all surprised when I was done, since he didn't have anything else for me to do.
Horrifyingly, the middle-aged phone installation tech possibly tried to flirt with me today. I was weirded out to the nth degree. He also claimed that I have a twin working at a different elementary school. I think his memory is fucked and he's just thinking of me since he's been around for a week or more messing about with the system.
[etc.]
I had a nice chat on the phone with my friend Amy, who says she registered to vote and depends on my mother telling her what to vote for. I just told my mom that, and rather absently she said "Oh, good, give me her email address later." Nice. Alan Rickman Fest 2004 is put off while Amy recovers from some nasty illnesses, incl. bronchitis and a bacterial infection of the throat. Being sick sucks, and it sounds like she's very bad off.
This is the week of breaking glass. Dad accidentally put a Pyrex pan on a hot burner and left it on tonight at dinner. It was rescued from that fate and Dad took it over to the sink. He asked Mom if she thought he should put it in the water, if it would be okay. "No," she said. "Huh," he said and turned on the faucet anyway. Perhaps the funniest part is that Mom, whose chair is closest to the sink, was hunched forward with her hands over her ears, flinching in anticipation.
And oh! How she was justified. After a couple of minutes of cold water meeting hot glass, there was an almighty bang and glass everywhere. We had to hold the dogs while he swept it all up, but the sink was still full of shards. He was pissed because he uses that pan a lot. And he was mad at me because I got mad that he made pork (which I hate and don't eat) and cooked a chicken breast for me in the same pan. I have a pet peeve/OCD twitch about foods mixing when it's not on purpose. I'm not afraid of germs getting in the peanut butter or the jelly, I'm paranoid that one will get in the other. I say "cross-contamination" but that's not it. If it were germ contamination I was afraid of, I wouldn't lick the knife when I make peanut butter and jelly crackers. But bits of one food ending up in something else... *shudder*.
The last thing of note is that, having bought some little basics of makeup to mess around and experiment with, I totally tarted myself up this evening, and it was so much fun. It was the wasteful, oil-based equivalent of playing dress-up. This is mainly because I suddenly thought "OMG, 1960s eyes" and applied tons of eyeliner, giggling madly. I did not look mod. I looked trashy. I would have taken a picture, but the battery on the digital camera is apparently dead. This might be my fault, whoops. Also, possibly inadvisedly, I put on a Mary Kay sample lipstick from, like, 9 years ago. So much fun. I've missed out on too much silly girliness in my life.
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
