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ravenPedar's back.
Dragged myself out of bed at eight in the morning, and my mother and I traipsed to the airport. Well, we didn't. We drove there. Same difference. Upon reaching there, discovered the flight was delayed. God bless you, Delta, motherfuckers who lost my bag last year, 'cause no-one else will.
He said the flight was awful. Turbulence, lack of food, lack of reading material, though he had bought Roger Ebert's wonderful book I Hated, Hated, Hated This Movie. For those who don't know, Roger Ebert is an American film critic, and for this book, he compiled together all of his most sarcastic critiques in one. There are gems like "This movie is so terrible in so many ways, but I only have the space to go into a few" - Ace Ventura - and "This is the kind of film about which actors have long, sad talks with their agents," - Lake Placid - and my favourite, the utterly inspirational "I hated, hated, hated this movie. Hated it. Hated it, hated it," - North.
But yes. I wasn't talking about Roger Ebert. Pedar's flight was apparently dire, and also delayed, but he seems to have enjoyed himself. His sister, my bua, has sent me three pairs of socks (with toes! Whoo!) a scented candle, a couple of bracelets, a pair of earrings, and Nupur's other grandmother (the one we don't share) has sent me a knitted bag, which is without a doubt the ugliest thing I ever saw, but naturally I haven't said a word.
Nupur herself has sent her love. Pedar says she's much taller now, which is good - she's three years younger than me but I could see over her head. Shivani has expressed her wish to become President - go, girl! - and has thanked me for the postcards.
Pedar was rather startled at the people of Savannah. Bible belt, he said, and apparently the Atlanta Journal has a Faith section. Ye holy gods. He didn't even bring one to show me. However, he did thoroughly approve of the St Patrick's Day celebrations. Just like the Irish attempt to dye the Liffey green... well, they did something similar. Fun.
Bit of peace and quiet for me now. Pedar's asleep, my mother's food shopping, and I feel suddenly and randomly awful. Therefore... I don't know, maybe will go back to bed. Should do maths, but I don't want to, and writing anything about the bakeries and fullonicas of ancient Pompeii is not high on my list of priorities right at this moment. I think I may go read some fic. Whatever.
Dragged myself out of bed at eight in the morning, and my mother and I traipsed to the airport. Well, we didn't. We drove there. Same difference. Upon reaching there, discovered the flight was delayed. God bless you, Delta, motherfuckers who lost my bag last year, 'cause no-one else will.
He said the flight was awful. Turbulence, lack of food, lack of reading material, though he had bought Roger Ebert's wonderful book I Hated, Hated, Hated This Movie. For those who don't know, Roger Ebert is an American film critic, and for this book, he compiled together all of his most sarcastic critiques in one. There are gems like "This movie is so terrible in so many ways, but I only have the space to go into a few" - Ace Ventura - and "This is the kind of film about which actors have long, sad talks with their agents," - Lake Placid - and my favourite, the utterly inspirational "I hated, hated, hated this movie. Hated it. Hated it, hated it," - North.
But yes. I wasn't talking about Roger Ebert. Pedar's flight was apparently dire, and also delayed, but he seems to have enjoyed himself. His sister, my bua, has sent me three pairs of socks (with toes! Whoo!) a scented candle, a couple of bracelets, a pair of earrings, and Nupur's other grandmother (the one we don't share) has sent me a knitted bag, which is without a doubt the ugliest thing I ever saw, but naturally I haven't said a word.
Nupur herself has sent her love. Pedar says she's much taller now, which is good - she's three years younger than me but I could see over her head. Shivani has expressed her wish to become President - go, girl! - and has thanked me for the postcards.
Pedar was rather startled at the people of Savannah. Bible belt, he said, and apparently the Atlanta Journal has a Faith section. Ye holy gods. He didn't even bring one to show me. However, he did thoroughly approve of the St Patrick's Day celebrations. Just like the Irish attempt to dye the Liffey green... well, they did something similar. Fun.
Bit of peace and quiet for me now. Pedar's asleep, my mother's food shopping, and I feel suddenly and randomly awful. Therefore... I don't know, maybe will go back to bed. Should do maths, but I don't want to, and writing anything about the bakeries and fullonicas of ancient Pompeii is not high on my list of priorities right at this moment. I think I may go read some fic. Whatever.
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no subject
on 2003-03-16 08:20 am (UTC)no subject
on 2003-03-16 10:37 am (UTC)You've given me a new respect for Roger Ebert.
And fic is the cure for all ills. ;)
no subject
on 2003-03-16 12:08 pm (UTC)And I have to say... I was flying solo. I didn't have the catty chorus to cope with, so compared to me you really suffered.
But isn't it fantastic, that the cure to all ills is always there? Fic.
Gotta love it.
no subject
on 2003-03-16 12:06 pm (UTC)I'd like to add to that;
Hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it hated it.
It was AWFUL. It was liking having very very long thin needles pushed through one end of your skin and out through the opposite end very slowly. It was more like movie botulism than simple movie diarrhoea (probably spelt v. badly, natch) ><.
I would never wish it on my worst enemy and totally agree with that man.
Although I found Lake Placid amusing albeit crappy and Ace Ventura hilarious. But I'm like that :).