I Don’t Believe in WAITING!

FINAL UPDATE FOR THIS! See HERE for anything else on my journey through this ordeal…

So, I finally watched The Last Episode Of The Second Season Of BBC Sherlock.

Which means I have to wait until around Christmas (approximately, maybe January) for the next part season.

I should have waited….

I have been re-watching the series with a couple of friends, one of whom hadn’t seen the series before. I kind of maybe sort of forced her to watch it, but since her computer hates Sherlock, we have been watching it, one episode a night, with my laptop set on top of a juice box packaging container on op of a chair with the screen as bright as can be and the volume as high as it can go.

Today (Wednesday) is a small break for her because she has to review some things she doesn’t get in class, as well as catching up on sleep.

But my other friend (of the two who watched the series with me) hadn’t finished watching the second episode of season 2, and she wouldn’t be able to watch it tomorrow night, so I watched it with her tonight.

It was awesome, as all episodes of BBC Sherlock are.

But, at the end of it, and I knew it was coming, she tuned to me with a smile and said “Let’s watch the next episode”

It was only 9.

It would be over soon enough if we did watch it, 10:30, 10:40 if there was bathroom breaks.

It felt like something inside of me was shrivelling up when I set up the next episode…

Five minutes into the episode and I wanted to turn it off, wait until the next season came out.

Ten minutes later that same part of me that shrivelled up was screaming at me to turn it off! Black out the screen, mute it! TURN IT OFF! YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE EPISODE!

That shrivelled prune squirmed inside me and threw a massive hissy fit for another five minutes before it got distracted enough by the episode that it only remembered to start screaming again a little less than an hour and a half later. Or, as I’m realizing now, It could have been Insanity having tied it up. Possibly with the help of Sanity. I mean, Sherlock is amusing and interesting and the end of the first season nearly drove me mad, so that must have been amusing for Insanity… But also, being afraid of watching the last episode of the second season isn’t terribly rational, so shutting up that fear of WHY-MUST-I-WAIT-FOR-THE-NEXT-SEASON!!?!?! makes sense. It’s like ripping off a band-aid, best get it over with quickly, Sanity might say. But it can also be like ripping it off in a pool, so that you’re grossed out every time you see it floating there in the water, because you’re never quite sure if that one’s yours, Insanity might add. Probably with a smile…

But then again, Insanity would be that gross kid in the pool who would pick up the band-aid and whip it at you to gross you out.

In any case, by the end of the episode, that Shrivelled Thing was back to screaming.

You’re going to regret this! WHY DID YOU WATCH IT! YOU’RE GOING TO DIE! What the hell??? TURN IT OFF BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE!

The ending was already spoiled for me, so I knew what was going to happen…. so I watched the episode through the screams of that shrivelled part of me, watched as what was spoiled unfolded (nice mental image, that), watched all the way through, and now it is with a heavy heart that I await the next season to come out. Why didn’t I wait? I probably could have waited for the next season to be out before watching it…

Perhaps the band-aid was not ready to come off.

But it’s off, and if I’m going by Dad’s philosophy of band-aids, it’s better to not put back on another band-aid. It’s best to air the wound, put on some Polysporin, and besides, it’s not even bleeding…

Watching the episode was probably less like taking off a band-aid, and likely more like putting Polysporin on a scrape.

*sigh* Fun times.

I seriously can’t wait until the next season comes out…

For all those who want to watch the show, go to THIS LINK HERE and watch, and become a fan, and love it.

Also, for those who Read my post HERE about how much I miss my dog, and are curious about what I named my stuffed dog, my friends and I figured out its name.

Benedict Scott. As in Benedict Cumberbatch (Sherlock) and Andrew Scott (Moriarty).

AND because I have two middle names (Elizabeth Rose), my manly stuffed dog also has two middle names. They weren’t really my choice, but I think it works.

Benedict Simba Rafiki Scott. Scott-Cumberbatch if you don’t want the last name to end so abruptly.

According to the internet, if you look up the meanings of each name, my dog’s name means (in full):

Blessed Lion Friend Of Scottish Origin

Which is funny because he’s a dog.

But my Benny Scott confused dog-lion friend is mine and may be species confused but will never be confused for anyone else’s 😀

Thank’s all 😀

Being Betrayed by Strangers: The Invisible Audience

I was going to work more on a couple of posts I’ve been writing for the past couple of days, one being a sort-of follow up to my last post on stress, and others more silly a something Lexy and I talked of, but here I am writing this.

I don’t know how many people go out and read unfinished or finished works by strangers on the internet–silly, I know, considering I’m currently writing to an invisible audience who may have already left for another site by now–but I’m going to assume that we all have people who we like to read from.

And it really is reading FROM.

It feels like Grammar will soon come up to me and give me a good smack for that, but you are reading what strangers have put out to the Invisible Audience, born from their imaginations.

How they put things, how they see things, how they cope with what has happened, we read it and we judge it and we decide if we like it or not, and if we read enough of it, we like enough of what we’ve read, like how they’ve written, we become fans.

We read more.

We like them more, FOR reading of their ideas.

We develop this faith in them, not like a religion, but like a childs’ faith that Santa exists, or their faith that Adults (particularly Parents) know pretty much everything and can always tell when you’ve done something You Shouldn’t Have Done.

This faith says that they will continue to write things you like.

They, this stranger you have put faith into, will continue producing this writing quality you enjoy.

I don’t know WHAT yo end up reading online, you could read news articles, you could read blogs, you could read published books that may have been put onto the internet with or without permission, you could read fanfiction, porn, ads, tweets, facebooks updates…

I really don’t know, but guaranteed you have a site that you go to regularly, or a writer you check up on often, or SOMETHING that keeps you coming back….

Because you have faith that they will continue putting something you find interesting and GOOD online.

The way it develops for most people, I believe, is that you read one thing from them, this Stranger, that you like.

So you check out other things of theirs that they’ve posted.

I find myself doing this the most on fanfiction.net

I read a story I like and check out what else the writer has posted on their profile.

I don’t read EVERYTHING of theirs, no, but if they have written something for a fandom that I like, and the plot summary or teaser interests me, I will read more of what they’ve written.

In some cases, like what prompted me to start writing this particular post, I like what I’ve read of what they’ve written that I decide to click on the stories that they’ve put up in a fandom I like that I don’t think seems particularly interesting.

I caught myself doing this for an author called esama (BETRAYAL! s/he’s moved all her fics and it’s taken me this long to find them HERE!) after reading a good deal of this Strangers Sherlock stories that I decided that I like how they portray the characters, I like how they’ve used certain crossovers, I like pretty much everything.

So I started reading one story that I didn’t think looked that interesting, and then decided it was really good. Went onto the next one that I thought didn’t look interesting, and decoded I really liked it.

On the third one, which is just now in another tab, waiting for me to get this thought out of my head before reading it, it crossed my mind that right now, I’m expecting this story to be good, I expect to be adding it to my ‘favourites’ list, and I expect that I will be extremely disappointed in this author if this doesn’t turn out to be awesome.

I mean, I already have this author on my subscriptions list, and on my favourites list, what if this turns out to be a BAD story? What if it’s total crap?

I don’t know that it’s crap at the moment, as I haven’t read it yet, but I feel like I would be feeling pretty betrayed if this author who I don’t know doesn’t live up to my expectations.

I know that betrayed may not be the right word, but disappointed may also work if you don’t want to admit that the inner 5-year-old inside of you that judges everything would feel betrayed–betrayed in the same way as I remember being when my Dad refused to tell me what something meant and directed me to a dictionary, the same way I know I felt betrayed when, in that last year of desperately believing in Santa Clause I decided to give him one last chance to prove he was real, and he failed. Because in my mind, if Santa was really as amazing as everyone said he was, he would get the letter I left out for him on Christmas night and produce whatever it was I put on that letter even on such short notice.

Of course Santa is real, but he has more of a business happening, wheer he reads your mind and puts gifts in stores for family members to buy.

But that’s a theory for another post.

But the faith that we all put into strangers still amazes me.

The following that some writers get is staggering…

Or, if you’re more of a YouTube person, consider the vloggers out there.

You hit that subscribe button figuring that they will continue giving you the entertainment you are looking for.

Sure, you get a sort of relationship with people over the internet, reviewing/commenting and giving your opinion on what they have displayed for the Invisible Audience, but they are still, essentially, strangers.

And yet, on YouTube I get excited when one of my comments gained 21 thumbs up…

Strangers are fun…

The internet is a wonderful place, I think…

The Light That Stole the Show, an Inflatable No-No

Belated for Christmas, or really holiday time in general, but figured I’d get this out there.

When I was home for the holidays during Xmas 2011, a great deal of my walking at night with Lexy was aimed towards talking about various things, making fun of dog and what we imagine dog would say with his ever-changing imaginary voice, and, since it was that time of year, looking at what lights and what kind of effort our neighbours and distant neighbourhood neighbours had put up for the season.

There were houses that looked like Holiday Cheer had reached its drunken limit and threw up on their lawn. Sometimes that holiday cheer ended up on parts of their houses, too.

There were houses that had a concentration of brightness, of lights that would zig-zag and bundle itself into a concentrated portion of the house. These houses would attract your attention even as you didn’t want to burn your eyes looking directly at it. “Isn’t that a nice house–BRIGHT!DON’TLOOKATTHEDOOR!BRIGHT!–and they even decorated…”

There were colour themed houses. My sister and I looked at two houses side by side, one with orange/red and yellow lights concentrated around the entrance, and the house directly next to it spread out in sprawled squiggles in blue and green. The contrasts in the double houses–the huge buildings cut in half to house two separate families– were especially amusing when we saw done in the calm chilly blue-white lights on one half and furious and fiery red lights on the other.

There are also the inflatable things… I’m not terribly fond of these things, for a number of reasons that are beside the fact that they look mostly stupid. They aren’t new anymore, so there are a lot of houses where even the Holiday Cheer couldn’t get drunk all over their lawn–there’s no room to. If you have a front lawn that isn’t particularly large, you shouldn’t be trying to fit three of the gigantic inflatable things… I also don’t like that they use up so much energy just having air pumped into them, and if they’re punctured, most people throw then out–more garbage, thanks…

Some are amusing, and when they first came out I thought hat they were held upright due to the sheer amount of awesome that had been pumped into their creation.

Some of them MOVED. Some of them had songs that went with their movements.

On walks, Lexy and I would occasionally stop for a bit to appreciate the blow up dolls things on people’s lawns.

This year, we had another reason to stop and stare. And smile. Sadly didn’t get around to going back at night, but here’s a picture of what we saw:

You can't help but look at it, can you?

If this had been taken at night, I have no doubt that it would be even more… spectacular…

Lexy has mentioned that she saw a Rudolf blow up thingy, equally unfortunately lit.

Also, Santa seems to be in a skirt 😛

There are a number of things that come to mind when I look at this picture…

It’s staring at me. 

I just hope that children who walk past won’t see it later as the one-eyed demon that ruined Christmas anything abnormal, and will be too focused on the light that’s staring into their souls how awesome and blown up that Christmas decoration is.

Though, I’d like to think that the people who own this house didn’t keep it up when if they noticed the unfortunate light. I think know my parents would have noticed, and would have laughed long and hard before taking it down.

I hope that they notice it next year if they choose to put it up…

Have to say though, that was the most memorable Christmas display (seems like the wrong word to use for some reason) from this past year.

Happy belated holidays to all, and in honor of my Wiccan friend, a very belated Merry Samhain and Yule.

BONUS: Samhain is pronounced Seh-my-ah (not sam-hain as I’d once thought) and always occurs on October 31st for the Northern Hemisphere.

For 2011, Yule falls/fell on December 22nd above the equator, and June 21 below, and 2012 Yule will happen December 21st.

FOR MORE INFORMATION ON WHEN WICCAN HOLIDAY ARE in year 2012: http://www.holidays.net/calendars/religions/dates2012-wiccan.htm

Happy Hermit Day!

Happy Hermit day everyone!

I figured that with the number of posts that are wishing you a happy Christmas, I would wait until the end of the day AFTER good ol’ Xmas to say Happy Hermit day!

Let this be a lesson to all who thought it would be a great idea to go to the mall today, that some people and families, like Lexy and mine, know that today is not actually the day to go out and try to get a deal.

Today is a great day to hang out with the family (AT HOME) and bask in the no-need-to-buy-more glow, and stay in your hovel cave hole home and embrace the hermit like tendencies that you usually bury in order to be social with friends.

To students, this is that same tendency that pops up around exam time that tells you to stay in and study and maybe spend some time huddled in your closet to hide from your textbooks.

To everyone else, please note that if you MUST go out and shop so soon after the Xmas holidays, the deals stay up for a while longer after today. They aren’t AS great, but you won’t get elbowed in the face, you won’t feel claustrophobic in the wide open expanse of the mall, and the employees at the store you’re at will be in a much better mood… most haven’t worked the day before, so they feel really lucky to miss the rush.

This is just a message.

I would have posted this earlier in the day, but I don’t think the people who need to read this would have read it in time anyway.

To all, Happy holidays and Happy Hermit Day!

Not this kind of hermit... though some may still feel a bit crabby 😀

Christmas Break is coming, so here’s Zombies!

It totally makes sense.

Break is coming up, therefore exams are here right now, and going by that logic, I don’t have any brains due to an influx of Zombies.

It makes sense.

It also makes sense that I watch YouTube when my mind is begging for no more brain eating.

So I watch Tobuscus.

He mentioned a song called ‘Re: Your Brains’ way back in one of his earlier videos.

So I check it out.

You should too. It’s funny as hell.


Tobuscus mentions this song because he writes from the other side… he titles it ‘re: re: Your Brains’


It’s amusing as hell, and reminds me of Lexy’s problem with crazypants at work.

She has mentioned to me a number of times that she worries that at some point crazypants will snap and come to work carrying a machete, and somehow that weapon translated to shotgun in my mind (another likely weapon for crazypants) which brought me to Zombies, which brought me back to the fact that I’m going to have to study more in a little bit.

I’m tired.

Parents, don’t bug your kids to study if they’re in university.

If you’re going to call them, call them to talk. just talk.

Not about studying.

Mom, if you read this,please take it to heart to not continuously bring it up.

Tonight, I’m going to talk to you about Christmas trees, funny things that I’ve seen, and the possibility of making a batch of cookies later today or tomorrow.

Braaaaiiins…

Also, here’s another funny video from Tobuscus, about how he finds a hamster loose in his home… he doesn’t have a hamster…

It made me laugh, and helped fend off the Zombie horde.

Crazy Raisins And Disappointing Chocolate

While in Loblaws a while ago, I found this stack of boxes with golden-wrapped chocolate. It was on sale. There were many things on sale, many things that I wouldn’t buy even though it’s on sale, and it’s for a variety of reasons…

I need this shirt and a mirror for when I go shopping...

I don’t need that many pickles….

That’s a sad amount of cheese for that price anyway….

Do I need that much salad dressing? Do I even have any salad? Do I want salad right now? I should probably have a salad… later.

But I already have a massive amount of milk!

More cheese… *sigh*…

These thoughts drown out the over-eager child voice that’s in my head saying “HOMIGOD! It’s a WHOLE DOLLAR OFF! Buy it now before it’s NO LONGER ON SALE!

I feel like that voice is also Insanity being mean, and poking fun at me being a poor, weak university student who also has to carry home all the useful edible crap I have to buy to survive…

But back to the golden wrappers.

I know that quite a few who are reading this are thinking of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (High fives for awesome :D) when I mention the golden wrapper, but this chocolate isn’t as awesome as all that.

This chocolate is a part-way disappointment.

Every gold-wrapped chocolate bar was large enough to garner the “It was THIS BIG” gesture, and with the squiggle-curve signature that made it Presidents Choice it promised to be all levels of delicious in 300g.

I bought two.

One milk chocolate, one dark.

Just to be even. Somehow. Just because.

I started with the milk chocolate, and finished it while studying for my art history midterm. It was sad to reach into the gaping wound in the wrapper and find it a husk, an empty shell of what it once was.

As I had finished the entire bar, I decided to use some self-restraint and hide the second bar out of sight in an obvious but out of the way area of my room for later.

Later came.

I was disappointed.

The dark chocolate bar is a disappointment…

Presidents Choice had let me down.

The awesomeness that was found within the milk chocolate was not within its darker counterpart, and this came as a huge blow to me as I like dark chocolate better than milk. Just because.

But I am always determined nowadays not to waste, and i have never thrown away chocolate… I’m not starting now.

So I brought out my bag of Crazy Raisins.

As the name is a bit long as a street name they’re called “Craisins”

(Ocean Spray product)

They, combined with the fail chocolate, would last me through my next bout of studying and general life for the next week or two.

A pinch of Craisins and a nibble at the chocolate made everything better. Made me realize that I’m still not going to get dark chocolate from PC again unless I need it to bake, but also made me realize that, as I’m eating these, my sister is going to read this and be entirely unimpressed as she will be thinking about how she doesn’t really like cranberry raisins, and that if I really didn’t like the chocolate I could have brought it home at Christmas and shared with the rest of the family.

Mainly her, If I’m reading her mind properly, but still.

As a response to that…

No.

It’s still mine.

You have Dog, I have chocolate.

It’s totally unfair as Dog doesn’t get used up as easily, but still.

No.

I suggest others try this combination, as chocolate chips are also good as it means you can mix it all up together in a baggie and have a bag of delicious to bring with you.

That football symbolizes chocolate. Just Because.

I Love Chicken-Milk!

Chicken-Milk is what one of my friends calls eggnog… hahaha, she’s so funny…

From the rather unsavoury name and by the scrunched up nose, I gathered that she didn’t like Eggnog.

I love eggnog.

And it is now on sale!!!!

How exciting is that!?!?

I was walking the other night with this friend, and we decided to go to Mac’s. As in the store, I’m not talking about a computer store though.

Mac’s is awesome… I have two within walking distance, though I only recently found out about this second, larger store that night with Friend. This other store is bigger and awesome, and sells sandwiched and tubs of Ice cream… This would be awesome on its own for ice cream’s sake, but it’s even more awesome for my sake as I was hesitating buying ice cream from the near-ish Loblaws that I go to for groceries. It would require me walking home with it melting 😦 I was very sad when I left without ice cream… and now I have a place to go that’s hardly a five-minute walk away!

Score!

But the main awesomeness that I found was my Chicken-Milk.

It was hidden beside the normal milk, encased in a foreign looking carton… I’m used to the blue cartons, and I would post a picture if I could find one.

But this one was red, but clearly said in its curly writing of awesome “EGGNOG”

And I wasn’t the one to notice this.

“Oh look, eggnog…” said my unenthusiastic friend.

“WHAT?! Eggnog? Where?” said I.

She turned away, and muttered something about chicken-milk…

I, holding a tall carton of delicious, said:

“What? Chicken Milk? Where?”

I started looking for something that said ‘Chicken Milk’ as I thought that would be wild to see. I didn’t think it was right to assume that they had blended milk and chicken together, and somewhere in my mind I knew that since chickens were egg layers, that they didn’t–Couldn’t–give milk like a cow can.

Perhaps chicken stock and milk mixed together?

How strange… I wanna see it!

Friend laughs, and sort-of flops her hand in my direction.

“No, no, just eggnog. Chicken milk… drinking eggs…”

She made a face. I feel like I may have made a face back, but for different reasons.

I know that some people don’t like Eggnog, but it’s baffling to me in the same way that it’s baffling to me that some people don’t like skating. It just doesn’t make sense in my mind.

And I always think that I can change them to fit my sense of ‘right’. Liking eggnog and skating were ‘right’. I love skating and am planning on skating the canal every weekend as soon as it freezes. I love Eggnog enough that my Dad ends up buying three or four cartons of the stuff and storing it on the opposite side of the fridge to the beer. He does this every time he goes shopping, and it’s Eggnog season that has him going to the store to buy more milk AND eggnog.

I’ve learned through my mom and dad telling me to stop chugging the stuff straight to add milk to it, and it now occurs to me that by doing this I have more than twice the amount of eggnog in one carton than I do without. It means that I don’t have to fear overtaking my shared fridge with a number of cartons of the stuff.

It also means that I’m less likely to, for once, actually try to change my friends mind about eggnog. I don’t want to waste it. And calling it Chicken-Milk makes me smile a bit.

I love Eggnog…

My precious…..

GIVE ME MY PRECIOUS!