x-files
friday, november 23, 2001
so, after roaming through the video shelves (with double, sometimes triple layers of video cassettes neatly stacked) to see what treasures i could find that i have been craving to see again, i've ended up with a pretty stack.
a few tapes labeled "tori" promising, uh, tori amos, i'm hoping, a couple are labeled "chronicles of narnia" so i'm hoping for a few episodes of the bbc version that creeped me out as a kid.. and i am re-watching angel baby, man of la mancha (people who get e-mail, however sporadically, from me, will recognise my sig file, hee), harold and maude, and, (gasp!) clean, shaven!
i also tried to find merry christmas, mr lawrence (david bowie looks fantastic) and they might be giants (george c. scott! george c. scott!), but didn't see the first, and saw too many tapes labelled TMBG to know which referred to the movie, and which referred to the band. :)
i decided to pass on seeing parents and paperhouse again, not because they are not good and re-watchable, but because they both scare me half out of my mind out of sheer creepiness and suspense. it really is amazing how scared i get by just pure silence and settings rather than anything really graphic going on. shudder. on second thought, i think i'm saving clean, shaven for tomorrow. not because it's scary, but because it's, well. sad.
could you care less? :)
this is what happens when you sit and wait for an e-mail that never comes. hehe. welcome to the new technology age. no more staring at the phone. now you can stare at a screen AND play clickomania at the same time. ain't it grand? cin cin. :) �� 9:03 p.m.
...
heheheh. poor little doggy. as soon as it gets dark outside, he's too scared to go out in the fenced in back yard and chase squirrels like he does all afternoon, so he's left to hope i entertain him. and everything i eat smell delicious and is out of his reach.
he's used to the little boy of the house running around and screaming and bouncing with him. instead he has a 24-year-old sitter who prefers to snuggle up on the couch and watch tv marathons. when angela called to check in on us, he didn't know what to do to catch my attention. he started to walk on his hind legs to reach higher up my legs to scratch and pant and plead. and then he resorted to odd leaps across the room.
point taken. call ended. and for just a moment, i stepped into the boots of his 4-year-old friend and chased the dog all over the house. i haven't seen him this hyper since he chased a squirrel across the porch this afternoon. hee.
i figure a few more laps around the living room couch and he'll be too pooped to even bother looking at me accusingly when i snuggle back up with the blanket and tivo for the rest of the night. he might not even beg for more popcorn. oh, who am i kidding. there's always energy for popcorn. cin cin. :) �� 7:29 p.m.
...
i was upstairs when the dog suddenly went nuts, barking in a way he hadn't before. it took me a second to realize there was probably somebody at the front door. the only way to find out was peeking out the window by the side of the door. yeech. hate that. yup. there he was.. the cleaning supply salesman!
okay, that probably doesn't sound so ominous unless you are a house sitter who has watched 6 consecutive x-files episodes on f/x. :) i finaly found the key to unlock the door and peered up at the man while holding the scrappy dog back by his collar.
and the man started his pitch. and i shot him down. "no, i'm not the lady of the house. no, i don't have a house either, i usually live in a dorm. no, i actually do my laundry here and college students are filthy so i don't need a great cleaning product either (okay, i didn't say that last part)."
he was struggling so bad. poor guy. cold and dreary friday night, thanksgiving day to boot, and he's out selling cleaning supplies. i give him extra brownie points for a good try, though. calm demeanor, bringing every sentence into the topic of cleaning products, mentioning he just spoke to the neighbour to show he wasn't spooky intruder, and finally, having the good sense to realize when he's not getting anywhere. after a brief chit chat, he finally gave up and left.
and now i'm going back to the x-files marathon. hee. aren't you glad you came here just to read such a lame story? i mean, i could have lied and said The Enigma from the Jim Rose circus knocked on the door and devoured the dog, but, well, that would just have been lamer. so. cin cin!�� 6:39 p.m.
