Hold Your Nose and Close Your Eyes
Jul. 20th, 2016 12:17 amThe feature length Benny Hill skit that is British politics at the moment continues apace. I'm still not totally convinced that Andrea Leadsom wasn't a piece of Tory performance art designed to make people who not two weeks ago would have been rightly horrified by the prospect of an unelected Theresa May government go 'oh thank god, an unelected Theresa May government.' And obviously it's no problem that the Labour response to the brief Tory shambles was to go: that's not a shambles, this is a shambles; because it's not like this is an important time to have a functioning opposition or anything. And who even knows what's going to happen with Scotland.
UGH.
In happier things:
I got to hang out with![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kmo and her partner when they were in Scotland on holiday last week, and they were lovely and awesome. Really, I ought to have a side hustle in giving tours of Glasgow to American lesbians. Well, so long as your idea of a tour is hanging out in a dive bar with me while I tell you how much nicer Edinburgh is.
It's funny, I was a teenager back in the 90s, when you were never, ever supposed to meet people from online, and even now in the days of Uber and OK Cupid it still quietly delights me when I meet one of you, and it's like see, mum, I was hardly axe-murdered at all.
I started watching Wynonna Earp and it's filling the gap Lost Girl left in my viewing schedule both in that while I'm not sure it's very good, it is good fun, and that it's best viewed in chunks of seven episodes while in bed with a hangover.
Luckily such a hangover presented itself quickly; we were having drinks to celebrate two of my best friends who've been going through the (long, long) process of applying to adopt being approved to become parents. I think the wait is a bit weird for them, because they'll be adopting a kid who's been taken into care, so adding to their family depends on the irretrievable breakdown of someone else's - but they're going to be awesome parents and I get to be an aunt, so. Apparently I was a very helpful character reference, too. I think the adoption process is pretty much the only situation where the phrase 'I'm not homophobic, my best friend is gay' can be uttered on the side of the angels.
I saw Ghostbusters today, and there was literally nothing about it that wasn't delightful.
I know I saw the Ghostbusters movies as a kid; largely because I was the nerdy child of a nerdy father in the 80s, so of course I saw them. But it wasn't a huge part of my childhood, and while I was planning to see the remake, it was at least partly out of spite, and I hadn't been planning to rush. But it was too hot to breathe today (by Scottish standards) and a few hours in an air conditioned cinema sounded about right.
I walked home singing I ain't afraid of no ghost. I want to watch it again. I want to watch its twelve sequels.
UGH.
In happier things:
I got to hang out with
kmo and her partner when they were in Scotland on holiday last week, and they were lovely and awesome. Really, I ought to have a side hustle in giving tours of Glasgow to American lesbians. Well, so long as your idea of a tour is hanging out in a dive bar with me while I tell you how much nicer Edinburgh is.It's funny, I was a teenager back in the 90s, when you were never, ever supposed to meet people from online, and even now in the days of Uber and OK Cupid it still quietly delights me when I meet one of you, and it's like see, mum, I was hardly axe-murdered at all.
I started watching Wynonna Earp and it's filling the gap Lost Girl left in my viewing schedule both in that while I'm not sure it's very good, it is good fun, and that it's best viewed in chunks of seven episodes while in bed with a hangover.
Luckily such a hangover presented itself quickly; we were having drinks to celebrate two of my best friends who've been going through the (long, long) process of applying to adopt being approved to become parents. I think the wait is a bit weird for them, because they'll be adopting a kid who's been taken into care, so adding to their family depends on the irretrievable breakdown of someone else's - but they're going to be awesome parents and I get to be an aunt, so. Apparently I was a very helpful character reference, too. I think the adoption process is pretty much the only situation where the phrase 'I'm not homophobic, my best friend is gay' can be uttered on the side of the angels.
I saw Ghostbusters today, and there was literally nothing about it that wasn't delightful.
I know I saw the Ghostbusters movies as a kid; largely because I was the nerdy child of a nerdy father in the 80s, so of course I saw them. But it wasn't a huge part of my childhood, and while I was planning to see the remake, it was at least partly out of spite, and I hadn't been planning to rush. But it was too hot to breathe today (by Scottish standards) and a few hours in an air conditioned cinema sounded about right.
I walked home singing I ain't afraid of no ghost. I want to watch it again. I want to watch its twelve sequels.