Damnit, only Joss Whedon could do what nobody else could: make me watch a superhero/villain comic-book-style show and like it.

Go check out Dr Horrible’s Sing-A-Long Blog. Get updates at the official fan site. (Free viewing only until the 21st.)

Nathan Fillion is hot. So is Neil Patrick Harris. Turns out Neil can sing, too. (Anything Joss Whedon does is an exception to my rule that musicals suck.)

If Joss puts James Marsters in this, I am so doomed.

Damn. It makes me want to get a t-shirt.

The 10 Most Terrifyingly Inspirational ’80s Songs

Try not to pull abdominal muscles laughing, like I did.

That is all.

I gave my notice at work, and the funny guy manager made a special point of telling me that if my new job didn’t work out, I was always welcome to work there again. There are 2 female managers (the nice-but-uptight one, and the shrill one) and 3 male managers (the funny one, the charming one, and the cute one). As I was about to clock out this afternoon, the cute guy manager asked me how many tattoos I have, and I cheerfully replied, “Five.” The nice-but-uptight female manager looked shocked and disapproving, so I couldn’t resist adding that when my eldest turned 18, we got “mommy-and-me” matching tattoos. I think if I’d mentioned my piercings, my two boyfriends, or the nude photo shoot I did when I was 28, she would have fainted dead away. (If I didn’t have a strict policy about not mentioning my personal life at work any more than I absolutely have to, that is. But damn, sometimes it’s sooo tempting!)

Anyhoo, yesterday some apparently-famous rappers (who I’d never heard of) came in to the restaurant while I was working. They seemed like any other rowdy, arrogant customers — other than having one guy following the rest around with a videocam, or the manager who apparently recognized a couple of them and asked for their autographs for his teenage sons. It was Young Buck and most of G-Unit (minus 50 Cent). All I can say is that I was underwhelmed by their public behavior. Lyse was astonished by my blase attitude toward it, but hey — this is Portland! I’ve seen Art Alexakis shopping at Lloyd Center, for crying out loud. (He’s damned good-looking for a man his age, and with his history, I must say.)

I’m just really glad it’s the weekend…I’m pretty wiped out. Other than taking my Number One Internet Fanboy and his lovely lady out to dinner tomorrow night, I’m going to do as little as possible.

Apparently spending a few hours with Lyse yesterday caused my brain to go wonky, as on the way home I heard a Dixie Chicks song on the radio and was overwhelmed with a compulsion to get the entire album. Ack! I’ve been contaminated by country chick-rock! I’ve listened to “Not Ready To Make Nice” about 6 times now! And it’s all Lyse’s fault (since she’s the only person I know who regularly listens to country music).

I’m going to go listen to all 3 of the My Chemical Romance albums now, to try to cleanse my poor little brain.

Okay, that’s not really what happened on Battlestar Galactica. But it sounded like a good thing to say anyway. Don’t worry, I won’t blab any spoilers without warning.

I organized a new playlist on my iTunes, for musical inspiration during NaNoWriMo. Since my crappy novel (which has no actual title, just a working title of “Inconnu” — and mega points if anyone gets the literary reference, which nobody will because it’s too obscure, unless I made them read the books in question) is vaguely set in a somewhat medieval setting, I obviously didn’t want a bunch of metal or alt-rock music while I’m writing. (I couldn’t resist putting Tesla’s “Love Song” on the playlist, though.) Most of the stuff I have on there is very Celtic…Loreena McKennitt, Enya, generic Irish music. There’s also a bit of foreign-language contemporary stuff — basically Josh Groban, plus a handful of fairly mellow songs with lyrics in French (don’t ask).

Any other rather mellow music with English lyrics which doesn’t evoke strong emotions in me also made the cut — a few songs by VAST, some Sarah McLachlan, and a smattering of other stuff. The oddest one is Robert’s fault — I went ahead & added Save Me by Remy Zero. Currently there’s 4.6 hours’ worth of music that I think will work for “background music to write to”…and I can always take anything out that intrudes too much. I’ll be going through any CDs I can find around the house to hunt for more musical possibilities, and possibly try to download some more Celtic traditional stuff. Just no bagpipes — I’d like to retain as much sanity as possible, thanks.

And now for a complete change of topic — Battlestar! I’ve been watching each new episode like it was manna from heaven, and often watching them again since Comcast was kind enough to put them OnDemand. Before I saw tonight’s (Friday’s) episode, I had remarked to Karel that I hoped…(click on the TMI for spoilers)

And now for something completely TMI…

I used to have this thing called Scrobbler. It was really nifty, but I forgot about it after a while. Luckily, Kylanath posted about a site called Last.fm so I went there to check it out. To my surprise, I already had a user account there! Yeah, it’s basically a re-do of Scrobbler. So I downloaded the new thingie to update Tinhead (my computer), and now everyone who’s interested (which, realistically, means almost nobody) can go see what I’ve been listening to on Tinhead.

And now for something completely TMI…

Three solid days of busting ass (on many people’s part, at various times - including Robert, Jenn, Beanpole, Karel, both demonspawn & their friends, and of course me & Geoffrey) has gotten us mostly moved, and most of the old place cleaned. There are still some things to be retrieved from the kitchen & garage at the old place, and there’s almost nothing actually put away at the new place, but at least the beds are all set up and we managed to locate necessities like toothbrushes & bath towels amidst the sea of boxes. The demonspawn have been rather fussy & cranky, which I forgot was part of the grand moving tradition, and the kitties are anxiety-striken & skittish, which I remembered is part of the joys of moving.

Thank heavens that Molly tossed some Flexaril my way. *sigh* I’ve gotten enough exercise to last months, and I’m not done yet.

Saturday night Beanpole took me to the NIN concert! Yay for Trent Reznor! Yay for stunning stage shows! Yay for my new NIN t-shirt!

Not so yay for a few other things. The opening bands (both of them) sucked. One was a new-ish band called Autolux; their music was actually pretty darned good, but they have absolutely no stage presence and they were stupid enough to advertize their inexperience by announcing they’d never played for a crowd so large before. I liked that their female band member was the drummer (and good at it, too!), but she really needs to sit up straight & quit staring down so much - or they should put her & the drumset up on a high platform, so it appears that she’s actually looking down at the audience instead of her hands. The second opening act was Queens of the Stone Age, and while their stage presence & showmanship was fairly impressive, their music was gawd-awful. So Beanpole & I spent most of their set out in the beer garden, smoking.

NIN was terrific. Trent sounds every bit as good in person as on his CDs, but the delightful surprise was watching him - he moves oh-so deliciously! I can’t really explain it…it was sexy without being sexual, aggressive without being threatening, and hugely self-confident without being cocky or arrogant. Everyone in the band was energetic & physically-expressive; the show rode that fine line between engaging the audience and provoking the audience. Visually, it was very hyper-active; lots of effects (smoke/fog machine, strobe lights, a projection curtain), and a variety of light displays, with flagrant use of the colors red, purple, blue, and yellow (lots of purple, yay!).

It was also really, really loud. I felt half-deafened for the rest of the night, but since I very rarely go to concerts, I’m not too worried about permanent hearing difficulties. I do wonder how the band can do dozens of performances like that in a year and still have any hearing left!

When I got home, I found out that (just like the last time we moved) my white noise machine, without which I can barely maange to sleep at all, hadn’t made it over to the new place. Last time, I didn’t go retrieve it, and wound up startling awake at every little sound from the other people in the room, getting very little sleep, and being quite unhappy about the whole situation. This time, I drove back to the old place to get it! I think that, in the last few years, I’ve come to put a higher (and more appropriate) priority on my comfort & contentedness. Maybe I’ve finally learned the lesson on not making myself miserable just to avoid inconveniencing or upsetting someone else …not in the way of being so selfish as to not consider others’ wants & needs, but rather taking responsibility for my own happiness while expecting others to do the same for their own happiness, instead of arranging my life to suit their wishes. I can only hope the lesson has stuck this time.

While Geoffrey is elsewhere, rocking out to Motley Crue, I’m home enjoying another band entirely. Beanpole brought over his DVD collection, and so I’m enjoying and all that could have been aka Halo Seventeen from NIN. (My Number One Internet Fanboy has obviously influenced me, as I thought, “Oh, how neat that they recommend Firefox to access the site.” Since that’s the browser I use.) I’m really pissed that I can’t find my Halo Twelve, since I really wanted to watch it again, and show it to Beanpole. Especially as he’s been so nice as to let me borrow his NIN CD collection to import onto my iPod mini, since my NIN collection disappeared under suspicious circumstances years back (which thoroughly pissed me off).

I’ve just been doing laundry, cleaning, and crocheting all day. Time to change over the laundry again, and enjoy some more Trent while I fold clothes. Nine Inches is a good thing…Nine Inch Nails, that is. *grin*

With a few discs from Netflix, and a few borrowed DVDs from Beanpole, we’re having a movie weekend. The kids are gone, the Lyse beast is over, and the popcorn is hot. Here are the movies we’ve seen, and Sunday we may watch The Game, although I’m kinda expecting it to suck. (I’ll update this entry if we see it.)

The Jackal - Bruce Willis is a bad guy. Bruce Willis kisses another guy (as part of scamming the guy, who is gay). Bruce Willis wears a variety of disguises and never quite manages to look inconspicuous or even nonchalant in them. *sigh* I’m used to Bruce being so much better. Richard Gere did an excellent job as an occasionally-clever, stupid-but-likeable criminal (who’s really a good guy). Sidney Poitier must have needed a paycheck, is all I can guess at, and can’t quite pull off being an FBI agent. I guess this was supposed to be a caper flick, of sorts, but it just misses the mark. More explosions would have made it more interesting, but still wouldn’t have saved it. Nonetheless, at the movie’s end, I didn’t quite feel like I’d wasted 2 hours of my life.

The Bounty - Pretty good flick. Lovely scenery, gorgeous tall ships, many beautiful half-naked Polynesians doing stupendously-gorgeous tribal dances. A pretty straight-forward and not overly-entertaining retelling of the famous mutiny. Mel Gibson & Liam Neeson look incredibly young, Anthony Hopkins looks suitably gruff. Absolutely nobody’s acting skills stand out, except perhaps the guy who plays the Tahitian king. The only glaring flaw in this movie, though, is that the youngest officer on the ship seems to be “spotlighted” early in the movie, so that you’re waiting for this young actor (probably all of 15 at the time) to have a major scene or somehow be an integral part of a sub-plot…but it never happens, and you’re left feeling vaguely confused by it. Great to crochet by, or otherwise idly watch while devoting part of your attention elsewhere.

White Noise - If you like scary movies, this one’s a keeper. Micheal Keaton is good, although he doesn’t seem to be aging all that well (I really loved him in My Life, where he plays a dying man who makes videotaped messages for his unborn child to watch as the child grows up). I was pretty impressed by Deborah Kara Unger, who I don’t think I’ve seen in a movie before. She’s very striking, and has a compelling charisma even when she’s not doing anything in a scene.

I won’t be watching it again, though, because like all good scary flicks, it has just enough realism to creep you out. I giggle at zombie & vampire movies, because (despite my Buffy fangirl-ness) there aren’t really zombies & vampires out there. I enjoy creepy sci-fi flicks, because they’re set in the future, with lots of high-tech stuff we don’t actually have, and generally in a galaxy far, far away. But horror movies set in the here & now, or the historically-accurate past, with phenomenon that are actually possible in the real world (even if highly unlikely, still possible)…yeah, I don’t need to dwell overly much on that. I dismiss odd occurrences in my house with chuckling references to our “black hole,” which (if it indeed exists) is the most mellow poltergeist in history. (Or possibly the ghost of an absent-minded librarian, since it often moves keys, books, remote controls, and other small items from where you left them.)

Of course, having a beloved with a sick sense of humor helps lighten the mood a bit. Although there are several serious “jump moments” in White Noise (those bits where you’re startled into jumping, even if the scene isn’t actually that scary) - including one that made Lyse jump, shriek, and quickly scoot backward a couple feet - it’s hard to really get immersed into the horror of a flick after a scene where Micheal Keaton is looking terribly concerned & thoughtful, and Geoffrey voices gruffly, “I’m Batman.”

Lyse instructed me to smack him, but I was giggling too much to do it.