connect with me
tags12 Days of Christmas balls flying in my face Bob book pile cats clip art dahlias digestive system enough about the roof already eternal overachiever everyone is stupid fukoladola Germany getting stuff done Have you got a bad back? how to I hate shopping I made this Karuk killing time leave me alone movies Ndns neighbors nostalgia not writing original art other people's kids pie pie crust disaster plogic pumpkins recipes revisiting old things soccer squirrels Star Wars things I hate things I won't do things that aren't really free tomatoes travel wildlife World Cup writing
Tag Archives: Angel
I have my last dvd from ANGEL and tonight I watched the series finale, which I have already seen (actually 2x) and I STILL shed a few tears when [key character] died. And if you know the show, you know that most likely everybody died at the end (and if not, sorry for the spoilers but why have you waited this long to watch it?). So how many times are you allowed to shed tears for one show?
You know I get nervous in front of groups. Even just telling a joke to more than 2 people makes me nervous, and leading yoga class, even in front of people I know, is an excruciating experience.
I have this memory of being in band (no, not that “this one time, at band camp”) and we had testing . . . at least a couple times a year and you had to play by yourself in front of the whole class and this was pure torture for me. Dread beyond measure.
And I remember that feeling. The same one after your boyfriend dumped you, which I also became quite acquainted with, where you woke up in the morning and you felt okay for about 3 seconds and then you remembered, something was wrong. And then it hit you like a far flung 2×4 to the forehead: omigod, we have band testing today (OR, omigod, my boyfriend totally ditched my ass, what’s wrong with me?).
This was the feeling I had after the Angel episode where Angel became human after this demon blood touched him and he and Buffy got to have moments of real human bliss but then Angel had to be changed back into a vampire and only he would remember his day of bliss with Buffy and he had to tell Buffy that she wouldn’t remember and she insisted tearfully that she would remember but then she didn’t.
It was so tragic and even the next day I was depressed about it.
No Angel disks this week. Long story why. I spent some time catching up on EURO2004 tapes. What happened to all my teams? Italy=out. England=out. Germany=out. France=out. Pretty much the only team left for me is Netherlands and I’m afraid to care — they’ll get out too.
Bob is on his way back from New Orleans tonight and his plane is delayed. He said if it was after 11pm he would take a shuttle home but I told him I knew I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep if I was waiting for him to get home so I’d just come get him. Of course, now I’m sleepy.
I have a bunch of random unrelated notes and I’m going to stick them here in one un-thematically linked entry.
This morning on my walk I came up the hill on Walnut and looked up and there was a buck. Well, I guess actually it’s called a spike. I’m not exactly a hunter person. It didn’t have actual antlers yet but little nubbins and it stopped and I stopped and we stared at each other. It was huge and just standing in someone’s driveway. After a minute it took a half dozen slow steps and then jogged out of my sight and probably down the hill more towards the train tracks where there aren’t any houses. As I walked the rest of the way up the hill a woman came out of her house and asked if I saw the deer and pointed up the street and said she saw it come from there.
So what is the proper method to style bangs? When Cha does my hair she flicks her wrist and my bangs look perfect. She could be using a pitchfork and a blowtorch and flick: perfect. I use products and hair dryers and round brushes and they end up looking like stunt bangs from Something About Mary every time.
I know I’m not a parent but I don’t understand parents and kids sometimes. I saw some lady walking out of the market tonight and her kid looked perfectly normal except a bit fidgety but it was a boy, maybe 8 years old so not outside of what you might expect and here goes the mom hauling off smacking the poor kid in front of the store where God and everyone (me) could watch. And the kid was kind of big so extra humiliation factor. Then I’m inside the store and the most obnoxious, not-cute, whiny girl is screeching at her Dad to push the cart faster and buy this or that — clearly a moment where a good smack might have come in handy and the Dad does nothing and for next fifteen minutes everyone in the store gets to listen to this. Can he at least try to quiet her?
Bleu cheese — I though I hated it. I associate it with this nasty smelling salad dressing my mom made on Saturday nights. But when Bob and I were in Tacoma we had this asparagus dish with a sauce of balsamic vinegar and bleu cheese — try this at home, seriously, it’s the best thing ever. So we’ve been buying bleu cheese and I’ve been eating it on crackers and crumbling it on salads and this is like the best food discovery since brown betty.
I have some more stuff to write about Angel, because I’ve watched at least three more episodes since I wrote last. But I’ll spare you. But really, it’s so painful to watch, knowing where they’re going, especially Wesley, and again, knowing how they all end up.