Weekend update

Hokay. This weekend was jam-packed with stuff and things and action, so I think I ought to record it for posterity.

:::ETA:::

Holy shit this got long. Cut-tagging now for your convenience.

:::/ETA:::

( Friday )

( Saturday Morning )

( Saturday Afternoon and Evening )

( 'It's the Sunday morning after...' )

And that's it for this entry. I think I shall make a separate one about 24 so that it doesn't get lost in all the verbiage.

Musings on 24

So, season premiere of 24 last night. I went to my parents' place and watched it with my mother, who is now hooked. For someone who professes to hate all things American, my mother is surprisingly easy to hook on some television programs. Maybe it's because a) Kiefer Sutherland is Canadian, and b) is the son of Donald Sutherland, who makes my mother turn into a squeeing fangirl (or as close to squeeing fangirl as my mother can get).

Anyway, two-hours of oh-my-God and screaming at the television. Well, internal screaming. My mother has trouble following plot twists in television programs (mostly because she doesn't see well, and so she can't tell some of the actors apart, which confuses her all to hell, especially when some of the good guys look like some of the bad guys), so I try not to add to the confusion. Mostly because, when she's confused, I have to explain things to her, and then I end up missing crucial plot points as well. So.

There will be spoilers beyond this point. I shall cut-tag this, so please don't say I didn't warn you.

Also, if some of my comments seem woefully ignorant in context, bear in mind that I've not seen the last two seasons yet, so some of the subtleties were probably lost on me. I really have to find someone to lend me Seasons 3 and 4.

( Spoilers beyond! )

That's all for now. I'm sure I'll think of more as the day goes by.

*twiddles thumbs*

Work is boring. Entertain me! :)

Moments in time...

I'm going round in circles. There's an irrational part of me that likes to comb obsessively over past memories to figure out the exact moment at which life started getting away from me. As though such a moment exists. Even if it did, it wouldn't help to know what it was. Yet that part of me somehow really seems to think that it would make a difference.

Knowledge is power, right?

(Does that mean I could destroy a city if I memorised the Encyclopedia Britannica?)
My life isn't a sucking pit of anguish, don't get me wrong. It just feels as though I'm not in control of anything. I'm happy to relinquish some control, but not all of it, and right now I feel rather like when the steering wheel of my father's car came off in my hands while I was driving down a busy street.

I keep trying to fix things, but it's like putting a band-aid on an amputated limb: too little, too late, the patient is haemorrhaging to death, and at best will be a cripple for the rest of his life. Patch things up, limp along for a little while, holding your breath all the while as you wait for the next round of badness.

Meh. I'm going to go see my mother and watch 24. Good thing I learned important lessons about escapism early on in life. First books, then television, then roleplaying. Fiction is much easier to deal with than reality.