Monday, November 30, 2015

The Bee's Knees

I am still trying to figure out what the hell happened on Doctor Who last night. Two billion years? All those skulls were the Doctor's? I felt like he got caught in a very unfunny version of "Groundhog Day" and I wasn't liking it at all. Why does Gallifrey remind me of Argo City? The only good moment in the whole damn hour was when Clara briefly appeared to tell him to get off his ass.

I've read a bunch of online reviews, and they all seem to be rhapsodizing about this episode. Look, I like Peter Capaldi as the Doctor - he is giving Chris Eccleston a run for his money as my reboot favorite, and as an actor, he outdistances all of the previous Doctors (if you have never seen the Torchwood mini-series The Children of Earth, you should. Why that face? Watch.) - but even a true fan like myself cannot take 47 minutes of unrelenting Twelfth Doctor hubris.  I think I fell asleep; whether that was the combination of the Methocarbamol and Meloxicam I'd been forced to take, or the mind-numbing repetition of the same 3 scenes over and over and over and fucking OVER again, well, take a guess.

I probably have to watch it a few more times. I had to watch "Blink" a half dozen times before I "got" it. Although every time I watch it, I end up wanting to slap that insufferable fishwife Martha right into next week.

Oh and by the way, I hate Gallifrey; if I was the Doctor, I would have run away from there as well.

The new companion? Well, next week is the series finale, and is Clara really dead? Stay tuned. Personally, I think it's time to bring back Captain Jack and River Song.

My fibromyalgia seems to be taking an new approach. Beside the heart palpitations, I've been having really bad pains in my knees. Both knees. One of the reasons I had gastric bypass surgery was because I was afraid those 150 extra pounds would wear out my poor knees a lot faster than God intended. I did not want to end up having to use a motorized cart in Publix or Walmart. Well, Walmart might have been fun, scooting through the frozen foods section, bumping into Walmartians, being at exactly the right level to scoop up all the Hershey's milk chocolate nuggets. All kidding aside I am not happy about this latest development. One cannot do tai chi Bird's Extensions when one's knees are for shit.  I have spent the last three days basically on my back.  No cheesy jokes please.

Now my left shoulder and arm hurt. And my back, but my back usually hurts.  I am so tired of this.

Alrighty then, I couldn't sleep, so I played around with the Bright House Wi Fi app that allegedly lets you watch television shows on your internet devices (so I could rewatch Satirday's episode of Doctor Who) and let me just say that the system sucks. Not sure why I am locked out of BBC America and Cooking Channel and trust me, this thing does not "stream like a dream." There's more wrong than right with how this works, and that necessitates a phone call to Bright House and you know how I hate to make phone calls, especially at 3:00 in the morning. With all that to bitch about, I did get to watch Men in Black 3. I thought it was going to be as godawful as Men in Black 2, but it was actually good, and I didn't see that ending coming; I thought something else was going to happen, on the order of Quantum Leap. Never mind, spoilers.

Over on my Facebook page, there is a lively discussion going on about the "new" methadology being used by protective investigators and case managers in assessing family safety. I politely declined "transformation" (meaning I skipped classes due to trials and just never rescheduled and hey, nobody caught it or if they did, they shrugged their shoulders and said, "she's passive-aggressive, let it go.") The whole thing came up because I posted an article about how the number of children in foster care has risen, which is exactly the result the new methadology was designed to prevent. Never should have hauled out that soapbox.

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