Like drinking something thick and sweet

Ribena, perhaps. (Ever had that stuff? Pure toothrot.)

One good late-night Forever Knight binge (I even watched the third episode during the correct CBS time slot) and it's worked its magic. Again, the years of shame and apology are washed away, and I have no idea why I ever looked at the ground when I said, "Yes, I may have been a rabid fan of that show..."

Aside from the ham-handed scripts and School of Lestat acting, of course. At midnight, alone, when I can yell at the screen, even those somehow add to the experience, like the dregs in a cup of Turkish coffee. (Don't drink the cup.)

But I remember again that, actually watching him, even with his whining excuse for a conscience, I didn't hate Nick. He's kind of cute. Even if he is almost wearing a neon sign over his head reading, "I AM ALLERGIC TO SUNLIGHT, GARLIC, CROSSES, AND THE SIGHT OF BLOOD, DON'T YOU GET THIS YET?"

As a side note to my dear annissag, I have now seen the infamous "Flintstone vitamin" incident you once told me about. I get it now. It was a garlic pill. It's much funnier as a Flintstone vitamin.

Lacroix can still be my daddy any day, though. Some things never change.

Edit: There were a couple things I wanted to say, but the entry is already quite long for the non-Knighters in the crowd, so I put them in a comment.

As the world turns

Sorry for the lack of personal or even informative posts, lately, by the way.

I went to Seattle. It was wonderful. Jason died again. He'll be back in the spring; he almost promised this time. I saw mortalcity, and we had an incredibly wonderful time together. I enjoyed cow's gracious hospitality and saw too many people to list (though spaced's skills as a gourmet cook must be given a very honorable mention). I came back. I continue to work. I am now training my replacement. The excitement comes in waves, as the old waterpark slogan goes.

I have been too busy, stressed, and avoiding to work on job search since Oct 10, at which time there were valid health reasons. Now there are not. Now I'm just being avoidy.

I now own first season FK (see previous post), The Wolves In The Walls (an excellent Neil Gaiman read-aloud book with drawings of wolves that would have given child-me nightmares), and Apples to Apples, but only the original set, which a devoted gang can play through in a single evening, so if anyone wants to buy me expansions, they make great gifts, hint hint.

The local college theater (including several of my friends) is putting on Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, and the leads can enunciate well enough for an audience that hasn't read the script to follow along! Also, Rosencrantz tipped me off to the existence of $80 (+ ship&tax = $100) PIRATE BOOOOOOOOOOTS! Which I will possess on Monday, FedEx willing.

SCAboots.com, your one stop shop for good looking cheap leather pirate boots with good modern rubber soles and almost no heel! I recommend them highly.

Straight through the other side of wrong...

And somehow oh so right. I mean wrong. Very wrong. Sailor Hellblazer. (To whoever's LJ I saw this in, sorry, I lost your post. Ah well, that means you won't be blamed for spreading this thing.)

( And the matching meme... )

I'm so proud. No, really, looking at the other choices, I'd rather be John. He's got style. Like me, unless he can think or talk or charm or weasel or bargain his way out of it, he's pretty much buggered, because neither of us can fight worth a damn.

I may post some random burble later with my thoughts on
(a) the fact that Keanu "Whoa" Reeves is definitely playing him in the movie (and my resultant struggle between complete disgust and trying to justify it so I can enjoy the movie),
(b) the fact that I find Keanu harder to deal with than the TOTALLY WRONG fanfic above (and what does this say about my priorities?) and
(c) gender perception issues in the aforementioned fanfic (the possibly most complicated subject).

I've been waxing surprisingly deep on fan thoughts lately, usually a sign that I'm boring the people around me to tears. Oh well, it's my journal! Ha!

Edit: Argh! Unless I can teach my e-mail program not to add line breaks, the formatting goes straight to Hell! ... Not that Hell.