B5\S5

Guys, please, please, please reassure me that season 5 of Babylon 5 will stop sucking soon? There was some improvement after "A View From the Gallery" (and wow, I had been telling myself that people were maybe overstating the fail, and it couldn't be as bad as all that -- but no. I'm just glad I was warned; imagine tuning in on a weekly basis, knowing that your show is ending soon -- and getting that. Like being slapped in the face with a dead squid.) but then there's Byron. Lurking around being ... Byronic.

I think maybe I didn't take to Marcus because he reminded me of Byron? Remember, I saw season 5 years ago, without watching the rest of the show, and I remember having very strong feelings of dislike towards Byron. Which haven't lessened with time, not helped by the fact he looks weirdly like bad fan art of the Eighth Doctor. And then there was the Sex Scene With Added Vorlons. I like to think that Claudia Christian took one look at Bryon and vanished, leaving a cloud of dust in her wake. (Well, JMS said he did tell her about the proposed Ivanova/Byron arc.)

So yes, please tell me it gets better after the telepath clusterfuck is over?

(AND THAT'S ANOTHER THING -- WHY CAN'T BYRON PRONOUNCE "TELEPATH"? HE FUCKING IS ONE!)

Sorry. Maybe I got a bit worked up there.

At least, once "A View From the Gallery" was over and behind me, I could stop being vaguely embarrassed by the Sheridan/Delenn scenes. That was a relief; if it had gone on in that vein for much longer, I might have had to start shipping Ivanova/Neroon or something.

AND ANOTHER THING -- sorry, this has been bugging me since "Rising Star". Sheridan's going off with his dad, saying, "We have all the time in the world". Only they don't, because he has less than twenty years to live, and the next day he's going to leave Earth, marry a woman his parents know mostly through hostile propaganda, and eventually make a permanent move to another planet. I guess this makes him what Lois McMaster Bujold calls "a hero who never has to call his mother". It bugs me. Almost as much as it bugs me that we barely see his mother, and she never gets a name (in the script) or a line of dialogue. There seems to be a lot of Sheridan/Delenn fic where she's the stereotypical mother-in-law. Which is silly, because Sheridan might have a passive-aggressive mother, but Delenn has Lennier.

Anyway, the thing where Sheridan's parents are very likely to outlive him sort of bugs me. I may have to write fic.

At least I've stopped thinking about Byron, though.

Lolventures with the root of all evil

Today, my friends, has been an Adventure. It started ... actually, it started yesterday, when suburbannonir and I went to Docklands in search of clothes. We were going to Harbour Town in search of discount outlets. The website promised shops, a carousel, ice skating and women in gingham summer dresses wandering around laughing. What we actually got was a deserted ghost town, echoing with the sounds of carousel music, while the immobile and useless ferris wheel loomed over everyone.

It was great.

Here is a picture of the Kylie Minogue statue, the ever-present ferris wheel in the background:



DUN'T BE JELUS OF MAH CITY!!!

Sadly, though, we only met with moderate success in terms of finding clothes. Which is to say, I got some pants (purple, cordoroy, will be perfect if I ever need to cosplay the Third Doctor). So we set out again today -- this time, secure in the knowledge that I had received my tax refund overnight, and could now actually afford to buy things.

This time we had better luck, even if my eye kept getting caught by the Alannah Hill clearance stuff. $300 down to $200 is still outside of my budget, sorry to say, and I don't actually need a pretty dress with brocade edging and beads and fake flowers, so why did I keep yearning for one? In keeping with my true tomboy self, I bought an Amy Winehouse t-shirt, and one with the original poster art for Whatever Happened To Baby Jane? Aside from being cool, they're actually appropriate for work, which is always an advantage.

After that, there was the minor issue of what I had actually been planning to spend my tax refund on. I am typing this entry on my new EeePC, which I have named Mycroft.Here he is, keeping company with Braxiatel the Desktop:



Why yes I have named my computers after creepy older brothers of iconic British fictional characters! Now, stop laughing at the state of my desk! I'm going to clean it eventually!

Mycroft is a supplement to Brax -- for those times when I don't want to be stuck in my room. I am hoping he will facilitate some writing, but he will also come in handy on cold mornings when the internet is too far away from my bed. He's an older model -- 8.9", if size matters to you -- and I got him for just $499, considerably less than the $700 I'd planned.

(suburbannoir and I were the only women in the computer store. Contrary to stereotype, we got the same courteous treatment as everyone else, although I had the impression that the staff were too socially inept to respond to things like gender. Nevertheless, I was tempted to write a song called "The Only Girl In The Computer Store", and maybe try to rhyme "graphics card" with "try-hard". Then I remembered that I am musically inept, and the urge passed.)

I spent a pleasant couple of hours installing programs and Firefox add-ons, pointedly uninstalling Microsoft Works, and generally making him mine, before walking up to the shops in search of dinner ingredients. Inevitably, I wound up buying some things that weren't on my list: a super-dooper kind of Tic Tac ("mint flavoured mint") and -- wait for it -- WINE IN A POUCH.



Cynics have suggested that this will taste like crap. I contend that it cannot possible be worse than the $3 cleanskin that weaverandom brought home one day. I shall keep people posted. If all else fails, it would do for a game of Goon of Fortune*, except that we don't havea Hills Hoist, and I am not 17.

Leaving the shops, I decided to take the scenic route home. This led me past some trees, some gorgeous houses, a pile of $50 notes on the footpath -- HANG ON A MINUTE.

Having checked that there were no hidden cameras around, I found myself in a bit of a quandary. I knocked on some doors, but no one was home. Finally, I spoke to some workmen on a building site, who took my number and said they'd ask around. Then I went home, tweeted frantically for a few minutes, then set out for the nearest police station.There, my details were taken, and if the money isn't claimed within three months, it will be mine. And the police officer was very handsome, and I got to hang out with an undercover cop who had left his car keys in an interview room. Oh yes, it's a thin blue line between us and the criminals.

I wonder what shenanigans tomorrow will bring?

* Goon of Fortune for the ininitiated and/or classy.