Indelible Freckles

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2013 on Screen

2013 went by rather quickly, didn’t it?

Here’s my best–of, in no particular order.

Features

2013 was a year when, more often than not, the fifteen or so bucks I paid to watch a feature on the big screen felt like money well spent.

Zero Dark Thirty
Iron Man 3
The Big Year
Chronicle
The Guard
Utu Redux
Gravity
Unit 7
Martha Marcy May Marlene
Saving Mr Banks

Television

For Mr White and friends, it was the end of an era — long live the king. As life goes on, Florrick & Associates continues to pull strongly, the Houses of Stark, Lannister, et al, remain compulsive viewing, and Nurse Peyton prevails in her adventures with prescription medicines.

Arrow — Seasons 1–2
Secret State
Hannibal — Season 1
Top of the Lake
The Americans — Season 1
The Newsroom — Season 2
The Fall — Season 1
Run

In another box–heavy year, honourable mentions to Boardwalk Empire, Mad Men, Endeavour, Karen Sisco, Last Resort, Marvel’s Agents of SHIELD and The Fosters. Not perfect, some no longer with us, some not really my cuppa, but good, well–made telly.

Onwards, ho!

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Notch Update

After a couple of months of no running, I bought a bike — meet Gazza:

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I took the bike on a couple of my usual running routes in what I assumed would be an easy transition back to sweaty guilt-ridding exercise.

The five–kilometre clover–leaf route on asphalt should’ve been a doddle on a bike. Except I’d forgotten that:

  • it had been a long couple of months since I’d had any aerobic exercise; and
  • the terrain around Fortress Mamea is a bit hilly — good for virtuous hill-climbing but not so good when going downhill and flashing on a down–hill biking accident I had when I was younger (and lighter) (and fitter).

Undeterred, I thought the local forest trail — a not–quite–eight–kilometre return route — would be pretty straight–forward.

Ah, no.

If I thought going downhill on asphalt was retraumatising, going downhill over gravel the size of my fists was — there are no other words for it — fucking terrifying. After the first moderate hill decline, I walked the bike down the long steep portions and, due to my lack of fitness, pushed the bike up those same long steep portions.

I was so grateful to be alive I took a selfie on the way back:

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I’d like to resume running now, please.

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31 October

Ah crap: that day of the year again.

When The Goddess won’t allow trap-a-treaters —

— or a vaguely themed obstacle course —

— this evening’s roamers and their chaperones will get just one warning:

FuckOffWillYa

Yeah whatever.

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Health Warning: Pix to Follow

When in doubt – or experiencing a dearth of bloggable material – post pictures.

For starters – by special demand request: Fortress Mamea’s mounted element, The Kaimanawa Pony.

The Kaimanawa Pony

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Notch

I haven’t been for a run since late August. Despite my favourite exercise dichotomy of No pain, no gain and If it hurts, stop doing it, discomfort got to a point where I thought I’d better take a small break.  A week’s self-prescribed rest, two trips to the specialist and four weeks prescribed rest later… and I’ve gained a notch on my belt.  And I have another fortnight of rest before I can attempt light exercise.

Persistent readers know I’m not a big fan of running but I persist because 1). I like to fit my clothes, 2). I like to eat as much as I want, 3). it’s as easy as stepping out the door and just bloody doing it, and 4). it provides thirty to sixty minutes of concentrating solely on putting one foot in front of the other.  I suppose I’ve been busy enough to not get too crotchety and/or fidgety.

But that notch on the belt.  It’s a worry.

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White vs Crawley

Fortress Mamea had been pretty good at hoarding recordings of the final eps of Breaking Bad, until loose lips in the real world threatened to spoil the surprise. A little bit of binge-watching has remedied this somewhat.

INT. SCREENING ROOM, FORTRESS MAMEA – NIGHT

Our WRITER and his GODDESS remember to breathe again as the end credits roll on ep 14 of “Breaking Bad”.

GODDESS

Oh what will we watch when this is over?

WRITER

Season four of “Downton Abbey” returns soon.

GODDESS

But not it’s not the same.

I suppose not.

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Spinning

(I could’ve sworn I’ve used the plate spinning metaphor on this blog but nothing’s popping for plate, plates or spinning. I await the sigh-and-eye-roll of the librarians amongst you to school me on my own blog.)

One of the banes of this writing gig has been the resounding radio silence that almost always follows the dispatch of a script to interested parties. I’m more patient than most but the waiting and wondering and imagining has always been difficult:

  • I know the script has been received;
  • I know the interested parties have other things on their plates;
  • and I know that I – just – have – to – be – pa-tient.

But my imagination can run riot:  was the script downright terrible?  was the script really badly received?  have I fallen from favour?

The anxiety of not hearing hasn’t been so crippling the last couple of months.  There’s been a deadline every few weeks and as each one has been met or pushed, there’ve been other projects in my queue to leap into.  I’m busy enough that I’m aware that I haven’t heard back from whoever, but I’m not really concerned:  I have another deadline to meet.  It’s nice.

Actually, it feels pretty damned good.

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Filler: Elysium

INT. FORTRESS MAMEA – NIGHT

WRITER

You want to watch the latest “Elysium” trailer with me?

GODDESS

(over “Horse & Pony” MAGAZINE)

Only if it’ll stop your confounding grovelling.

Our WRITER joins THE GODDESS on the COUCH and angles his Macbook towards Her --

-- our Writer looks at his Goddess, eyes shining:

WRITER

Wasn’t that just effing awesome?

GODDESS

... Do we still have to go to the multiplex and watch the five minutes that weren’t in the trailer?

WRITER

YES, DAMMIT! ... Please.

She’s a good sport, She is.

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