Feast of Fools

OK, I really should catch up with my bloggage. I'm suffering from something similar to his internet fatigue, which is resulting in late updates, huge email backlog and lack of blogging. *is appropriately ashamed* I'm planning on starting a blog layout for Ivan soon though, so that ought to get me back into the swing of Net things.

Anyways; I haven't been doing all that much. A little light job-hunting, shopping and other trivialities. She came over for a couple of days, which was loverly. We went to see Animal Factory in London on Weds, which was distinctly strange but very good. And Willem Dafoe looks like Satan. ^_^ Also, Wagamama food glee, though it was insanely busy and we had to sit next to an annoying modern yuppie who was attempting to chat up a bored girl who clearly had three times his brains and an attention span of ten seconds or less.

Thursday was entirely less constructive - basically, we sat around all day, read crap, ate biscuits and watched vast quantities of bad television. Faaaaantastic. ^________^ As a result, I can tell you exclusively that a) The Tripods TV series is a very good TV series but a very, very bad adaptation of the book; that b) The Sentinel just gets sillier but that I was rather disappointed with Blair's mother; and that c) Donnie Darko is a most wonderful film that everyone should see, being intelligent, surreal, funny and aesthetically pleasing. And it also slices, dices and liquidises common household vegetables.

So on Friday I saw J off at Euston and proceeded to my grandparents - to celebrate my degree, supposedly. And that was when my day downturned most majorly. I wish I could identify what it is about my grandparents' house that drives me instantly back into a state of sulky, antisocial mid-adolescence. I think a large part of it is the complete lack of anything to do and any conversation less trivial than TV discussion and tabloid-level politics - it's like sensory deprivation torture. You can scream and scream and nobody will ever respond, except to offer you more tea and a slice of lemon drizzle cake. >.<

I must beat this creeping psychological torment! I hate myself when I'm at my grandparents; I retreat into the worst of my introverted behaviour pattern and clutch at any source of mental stimulation, which usually means sitting sideways on their armchair (which they hate) without even attempting to interact and reading the Radio Times three times through including the radio listings. I must defeat it. Later on I usually end up starting political arguments; this happens later because it doesn't occur till my resolve is broken down and I can no longer stand to hear them spouting Sun-quality populist cliches without starting a fight.

Right. Sleep calleth, which means the mp3 update will have to be done tomorrow instead; it might have gotten done, but beta-ing a couple of new fic bits for her was much more fun and distracted me. I'll try to get it done tomorrow earlyish, as I'm having a home-friends reunion of sorts in the afternoon which is likely to take over the whole day.