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handful_ofdustHappy Mother's Day, everybody! I gave my Mom a card and a couple of books; she gave me twenty bucks for the Steve Earle Townes van Zandt songs cover album, but it's not out 'til Tuesday (so I got T.I.'s Paper Trail, instead). We did our usual workout-plus-brunch thing, and she showed us part of Justin Timberlake's third turn as host on Saturday Night Live, during which he seems to have off-handedly outed himself as having been experimentally bisexual in his youth (ahem), 'cause...well hey, why not? When your life is a "non-stop orgy of sex and fame", and all. (I also laughed long and loud at his description, in the same skit, of boy-band life being "sort of [like a sweatshop], yeah".)
(The truly amusing thing, to me, is that I've never been a member of that RPF sub-group known as "bandom" in my life. Yet the only thing I could think was: Wow, THAT's gonna make a lot of ladies happy.)
And no, unfortunately, I didn't get to see the Timberlake/Samburg follow-up to "Dick in a Box", either. I look forward to it, though hopefully not with Steve present; I think his head might well explode.
Otherwise, this weekend has been an annoying back-and-forth between great vs. quease. Saw Star Trek on Friday: Ultra-great. Also got to go out with the Diners: Great, followed by horrendous insomnia. Saturday morning: Woke feeling vaguely like I'd been run over, went to pick up Cal and was caught in a rainstorm so epic that a day and a half later, everything in my pockets/my shoes/the coat I was wearing still haven't completely dried out yet. Fell asleep for three hours, then had to get up and immediately leave for the HWA dinner at the Madison: Great, not least because I got to contribute to the send-Sephera-Giron-to-the-Stokers fund directly. But by the time I got home, I was feeling queasy and weirdly vertiginous again, as though I'd breezed straight through getting drunk and gone straight to the hangover. Then more insomnia, during which I watched Shutter, the denouement of which actually made up for most of the stuff in the middle (and confirmed that I do, indeed, find Joshua Jackson creepily attractive).
At which point we come full circle, knowing tomorrow I have to take Cal over to Surrey Place for 1:00 PM, and still feeling pretty much the same blend of good/not/uck/okay/etc., in constantly shifting increments. All I can do is just really hope this is over soon, because light-headedness, cold sweat, McCoy-style "I-may-throw-up-on-ya" moments and existential angst are NOT any of my favorite feelings individually, let alone in concert.
Still: Though it certainly bears talking about at further length, the short version is that I too am part of the huge wave of people who loved the Trek reboot from Moment One to Moment None, with no quibbles whatsoever. It's snappy, fierce, fast-moving and very funny (a frantic screwball/slapstick sequence during which McCoy smuggles Kirk aboard the Enterprise keeps running through my head at odd moments: "You got numb-tongue? Yeah, I can do somethin' 'bout that." "OW!"), and the central performances are note-perfect in ways which ring true to the source yet also deviate beautifully from those "Prime" archetypes, creating something vitally fresh and new. Quinto's Spock's the snarky bomb--elegant, haughty, ridiculously competent, yet younger than Nimoy was when we first met him, so still very much locked in constant combat with his own very passionate nature like Jacob vs. the angel, Sunday Sunday Sunday. He and Pine's shameless adrenaline junkie/big walking dick of a Kirk are far less polar opposites than stealth twins, and watching the process both of them go through while discovering that fact is scarily engaging.;)
So yeah, I'm happy to see the fandom's already reinvigorating itself, and look forward to reaping the bounty. But tomorrow, amongst everything else, I have to get stuck back into Book of Tongues. Thus I will close off, and go once more try to de-quease myself before sleep.
(The truly amusing thing, to me, is that I've never been a member of that RPF sub-group known as "bandom" in my life. Yet the only thing I could think was: Wow, THAT's gonna make a lot of ladies happy.)
And no, unfortunately, I didn't get to see the Timberlake/Samburg follow-up to "Dick in a Box", either. I look forward to it, though hopefully not with Steve present; I think his head might well explode.
Otherwise, this weekend has been an annoying back-and-forth between great vs. quease. Saw Star Trek on Friday: Ultra-great. Also got to go out with the Diners: Great, followed by horrendous insomnia. Saturday morning: Woke feeling vaguely like I'd been run over, went to pick up Cal and was caught in a rainstorm so epic that a day and a half later, everything in my pockets/my shoes/the coat I was wearing still haven't completely dried out yet. Fell asleep for three hours, then had to get up and immediately leave for the HWA dinner at the Madison: Great, not least because I got to contribute to the send-Sephera-Giron-to-the-Stokers fund directly. But by the time I got home, I was feeling queasy and weirdly vertiginous again, as though I'd breezed straight through getting drunk and gone straight to the hangover. Then more insomnia, during which I watched Shutter, the denouement of which actually made up for most of the stuff in the middle (and confirmed that I do, indeed, find Joshua Jackson creepily attractive).
At which point we come full circle, knowing tomorrow I have to take Cal over to Surrey Place for 1:00 PM, and still feeling pretty much the same blend of good/not/uck/okay/etc., in constantly shifting increments. All I can do is just really hope this is over soon, because light-headedness, cold sweat, McCoy-style "I-may-throw-up-on-ya" moments and existential angst are NOT any of my favorite feelings individually, let alone in concert.
Still: Though it certainly bears talking about at further length, the short version is that I too am part of the huge wave of people who loved the Trek reboot from Moment One to Moment None, with no quibbles whatsoever. It's snappy, fierce, fast-moving and very funny (a frantic screwball/slapstick sequence during which McCoy smuggles Kirk aboard the Enterprise keeps running through my head at odd moments: "You got numb-tongue? Yeah, I can do somethin' 'bout that." "OW!"), and the central performances are note-perfect in ways which ring true to the source yet also deviate beautifully from those "Prime" archetypes, creating something vitally fresh and new. Quinto's Spock's the snarky bomb--elegant, haughty, ridiculously competent, yet younger than Nimoy was when we first met him, so still very much locked in constant combat with his own very passionate nature like Jacob vs. the angel, Sunday Sunday Sunday. He and Pine's shameless adrenaline junkie/big walking dick of a Kirk are far less polar opposites than stealth twins, and watching the process both of them go through while discovering that fact is scarily engaging.;)
So yeah, I'm happy to see the fandom's already reinvigorating itself, and look forward to reaping the bounty. But tomorrow, amongst everything else, I have to get stuck back into Book of Tongues. Thus I will close off, and go once more try to de-quease myself before sleep.
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no subject
Date: 2009-05-11 03:58 am (UTC)I could watch that.
no subject
Date: 2009-05-11 04:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-11 05:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-11 01:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-11 06:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-11 10:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-11 11:36 pm (UTC)