Waving to all my fellow Gemini's
Jun. 3rd, 2003 12:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
itsallovernowIt seems there have been quite a few birthdays lately in LJ land, so as a fellow Gemini, I'm blowing you all kisses and sending out hopes that you have another year of being loquacious, moody, flighty, curious and constantly busy. At least, that's how being a Gemini translates for me.
I think my upcoming birthday is probably what has me in such an odd and turbulent mood lately. I've been bouncing off those highs and lows like nobodies business, having a difficult time landing on any one concept or idea.
I feel the pressure of getting older - one more year until I'm 30 - and while, as an only child, I've always loved birthdays, I find myself at odds with the event this year. Part of it is the age. So much undone, so many unrealistc goals I've had to let go of, including the Ph.D, which was a willing decision on my part, yet still something I can't quite let go of. I would have been a terrible archaeologist. Everyone knows this. I refused to sleep outside, and almost through my collection of potsherds at my professor because I was so sick of cataloguing them. I loved the theory, but no one pays an archaeologist to discuss theory until they've done more than their fare share of sleeping out side and slave labor.
Part of it is the actual birthday itself. I don't want presents, don't want a lot of fuss, but the prospect of spending my birthday alone moves me to tears. Which is beyond bizarre, especially since we're having a slew of people to the house. Maybe it's because this year, I'm doing all the work for the party.
There's always been someone to do it for me before - my easily distractedness and total lack of event vision making me a poor party planner, and M. won't even be there until he gets off work in the wee small hours, and I'm freaking out. It means I'm the sole voice of decoration, organization and the like. People having fun is suddenly my responsibility, and I'm trying to back pedal out of that as fast as I can. But I love having people at the house, dressed up, cocktails in hand, letting my slutty little cats fawn all over them because the little buggers are absolute attention whores and can charm people into dismissing the rain of cat hair that descends on them.
By Friday night, with people assembled, I'll be fine. I've got a great dress, a feathered mask, and will have purchased cigarettes for the first time in a month and the revelry will hopefully pull me out of this uneasy mood.
We had only begun the Farscape obsession when Die Me Dichotomy aired, and therefore, were still entrenched in The X-Files and Buffy. When Aeryn plunged into the frozen lake, I turned to S. and said, "She doesn't come back, we're not watching anymore." We didn't have enough background on the show or the actors to know what the likelihood of Aeryn staying dead was - although, we did have enough background in SciFi, and a whole history with the X-Files, to know that dead didn't have to mean dead:)
So first, we wait for several months. Then, SciFi airs Farscaped Undressed, which I believe certified my adoration of Ben Browder because that man is just lovely in a suit. I already had such a crush on Claudia Black that seeing her in real person clothes, sexy as she is, couldn't have made my crush any worse. And the damned show just teased us more, hinting that Aeryn really was dead, that CB wasn't coming back.
Of course, this was a feint, but I spent all of Season of Death in pissed off righteous indignation, and then yelled loudly and frequently at the screen, suggesting ways to bring Aeryn back (CB's name in the credits was probably a good hint, however, thanks to Buffy, we suddenly had realized that credits could be altered mid-season. This was actually a revelation to all of us:)
So, I'm very fond of this ep, for the ending if nothing else. I love seeing the two of them say I love you - yes, I'm a big sap, as long as it's in character. I love the look on John's face when he realizes she's not dead (although I have long chosen to ignore the brilliant description of Aeryn's resurrection as Zhaan doing a unity thing. While Aeryn may not have the technical knowledge to describe what happened, these are the writers who routinely make up words for every curse and bodily function known to the universe. Gimmee specifics guys!!)
Caging Harvey is also a favorite scene. Can I get a hell yeah! Absolutely, and if you turn just a little bit, I can freeze frame the DVD on that behind for a minute before we continue. That's better, now go on.
The fact that Stark was offering totally made up advice, Do Not Make Me Tongue you, and then the return of the John/D'Argo guy thing. I love hearing D'Argo say, "Whoa" even more than Keanu. Freeze or Fry indeed. Also, thanks to the Season 3.2 DVD's I have developed a crush on Anthony Simcoe, who clearly should not be allowed out in public among sane people. He is beyond adorable, and his vision of D'Argo's morning routine - shower, hair braiding, self-tanning, a little shilquin playing - had me laughing so hard that the cats just sat and stared at me. It has also spawned the urge to continue one of my fics and have D'Argo wear a fluffy pink bathrobe.
So, Season of Death lacks the momentum of DMD, but it is a beautiful set up for what's to come. And who wasn't panting a little at the J/A kiss at the end (yes, yes, hand waving, I'm obviously a shipper and a big sucker. Sue me:)
And after yet another viewing of DMD last night, I realized that as Scorpy walks towards the doors of the surgical theater, he is whistling The Star Spangled Banner. Very clever folks. I so need to spend more time sleeping.
I think my upcoming birthday is probably what has me in such an odd and turbulent mood lately. I've been bouncing off those highs and lows like nobodies business, having a difficult time landing on any one concept or idea.
I feel the pressure of getting older - one more year until I'm 30 - and while, as an only child, I've always loved birthdays, I find myself at odds with the event this year. Part of it is the age. So much undone, so many unrealistc goals I've had to let go of, including the Ph.D, which was a willing decision on my part, yet still something I can't quite let go of. I would have been a terrible archaeologist. Everyone knows this. I refused to sleep outside, and almost through my collection of potsherds at my professor because I was so sick of cataloguing them. I loved the theory, but no one pays an archaeologist to discuss theory until they've done more than their fare share of sleeping out side and slave labor.
Part of it is the actual birthday itself. I don't want presents, don't want a lot of fuss, but the prospect of spending my birthday alone moves me to tears. Which is beyond bizarre, especially since we're having a slew of people to the house. Maybe it's because this year, I'm doing all the work for the party.
There's always been someone to do it for me before - my easily distractedness and total lack of event vision making me a poor party planner, and M. won't even be there until he gets off work in the wee small hours, and I'm freaking out. It means I'm the sole voice of decoration, organization and the like. People having fun is suddenly my responsibility, and I'm trying to back pedal out of that as fast as I can. But I love having people at the house, dressed up, cocktails in hand, letting my slutty little cats fawn all over them because the little buggers are absolute attention whores and can charm people into dismissing the rain of cat hair that descends on them.
By Friday night, with people assembled, I'll be fine. I've got a great dress, a feathered mask, and will have purchased cigarettes for the first time in a month and the revelry will hopefully pull me out of this uneasy mood.
We had only begun the Farscape obsession when Die Me Dichotomy aired, and therefore, were still entrenched in The X-Files and Buffy. When Aeryn plunged into the frozen lake, I turned to S. and said, "She doesn't come back, we're not watching anymore." We didn't have enough background on the show or the actors to know what the likelihood of Aeryn staying dead was - although, we did have enough background in SciFi, and a whole history with the X-Files, to know that dead didn't have to mean dead:)
So first, we wait for several months. Then, SciFi airs Farscaped Undressed, which I believe certified my adoration of Ben Browder because that man is just lovely in a suit. I already had such a crush on Claudia Black that seeing her in real person clothes, sexy as she is, couldn't have made my crush any worse. And the damned show just teased us more, hinting that Aeryn really was dead, that CB wasn't coming back.
Of course, this was a feint, but I spent all of Season of Death in pissed off righteous indignation, and then yelled loudly and frequently at the screen, suggesting ways to bring Aeryn back (CB's name in the credits was probably a good hint, however, thanks to Buffy, we suddenly had realized that credits could be altered mid-season. This was actually a revelation to all of us:)
So, I'm very fond of this ep, for the ending if nothing else. I love seeing the two of them say I love you - yes, I'm a big sap, as long as it's in character. I love the look on John's face when he realizes she's not dead (although I have long chosen to ignore the brilliant description of Aeryn's resurrection as Zhaan doing a unity thing. While Aeryn may not have the technical knowledge to describe what happened, these are the writers who routinely make up words for every curse and bodily function known to the universe. Gimmee specifics guys!!)
Caging Harvey is also a favorite scene. Can I get a hell yeah! Absolutely, and if you turn just a little bit, I can freeze frame the DVD on that behind for a minute before we continue. That's better, now go on.
The fact that Stark was offering totally made up advice, Do Not Make Me Tongue you, and then the return of the John/D'Argo guy thing. I love hearing D'Argo say, "Whoa" even more than Keanu. Freeze or Fry indeed. Also, thanks to the Season 3.2 DVD's I have developed a crush on Anthony Simcoe, who clearly should not be allowed out in public among sane people. He is beyond adorable, and his vision of D'Argo's morning routine - shower, hair braiding, self-tanning, a little shilquin playing - had me laughing so hard that the cats just sat and stared at me. It has also spawned the urge to continue one of my fics and have D'Argo wear a fluffy pink bathrobe.
So, Season of Death lacks the momentum of DMD, but it is a beautiful set up for what's to come. And who wasn't panting a little at the J/A kiss at the end (yes, yes, hand waving, I'm obviously a shipper and a big sucker. Sue me:)
And after yet another viewing of DMD last night, I realized that as Scorpy walks towards the doors of the surgical theater, he is whistling The Star Spangled Banner. Very clever folks. I so need to spend more time sleeping.
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And a fellow Gemini waves back
Date: 2003-06-03 07:48 pm (UTC)Have fun at your party, remember it is yours! I threw myself a 30th birthday party. Got everything set up, then the people arrived and I refused to worry any more than necessary, like I look to make sure there was still alcohol and to throw away some stuff. It was a blast.
Oh and that kiss in SoD? At the end? *sigh*
Re: And a fellow Gemini waves back
Date: 2003-06-03 11:40 pm (UTC)Re: And a fellow Gemini waves back
Date: 2003-06-04 10:10 am (UTC)Re: And a fellow Gemini waves back
Date: 2003-06-04 10:08 am (UTC)And thanks, I always enjoy throwing the parties, it's just a little overwhelming right now. By Friday night, I'll be bouncing off the walls.
Oh, and happy belated birthday!! Sounds like you had a nice one.