Sunday, 15 January 2012

Sherlock: A Scandal in my brain, on the plane, on the big screen (pr. scrane)

If I just...a little more...no don't...grab it...nearly...push a bit...no...nope...it's gone...lost it.

Well, revision was good while it lasted.

To be fair, my handwriting has become incredibly erratic and I haven't realised that I've been letting myself sing along, loudly, to Taylor Swift for the past 4 hours so it's obviously going well. The only thing that probably isn't going so well is that I've realised I've totally missed out parts of the syllabus which are more than likely to come up, but I've concluded that if a question arises about them then I'll merely cross it out and write my own question. It'll show initiative, creativity, and courage.

I could fit in the missing topics during revision. The exam isn't until Thursday. But my brain doesn't comply with time. Oh no. I'll start revising but, soon after, the letters p r o c r a s t i n a t i o n start pushing against my skull, eager to escape, and dip themselves into the practical and progressive parts of my brain, corrupting the useful knowledge there like a drug filled, sex obsessed, violence prone older brother. Once they're done fannying around, they jump out of my eyes with a rope and abseil their way down onto my revision notes, before tying said rope around my fingers and pulling them onto my keyboard where they proceed to MAKE ME type out 'robert downey jr on craig ferguson' into YouTube. It's just so hard, you know? So hard to stand up for myself...*sobby gasp*...just give me a minute please...

(Robert Downey Jr, though. I don't know what it is about him. I mean, I fall for anyone who's interviewed on Craig Ferguson because that man could make Hitler likable, but RDJ is suddenly so at the front of my frontal lobe that if he went any further he'd make a permanent squashed face print . I'm infatuated after seeing him in Sherlock Holmes 2 this week. Not even the film stopping near the end ruined it for me. That actually happened. The screen went black and all the lights came on. Me, being the unobservant fool I am, didn't realise until a few seconds after it'd happened and thought it was part of the film. It didn't really bother me though, and nor did it evidently bother others, because no one moved. The group of us in that cinema were so British, that we merely looked around at each other, shrugged, mumbled incoherently, and contentedly sat, and waited. One woman stirred a fuss. Not because of the circumstance that just occurred though, but because she was "bloody cold and they should put the heating on." One man, after some hushed insistent direction from his partner, finally sighed and left to get help. In the end, the projector was fixed and we all got a complimentary cinema ticket for any inconvenience. Which was nice of them.)

After being sabotaged by p r o c r a s t i n a t i o n, I decided to utilise the opportunity of a DEFINITELY WELL DESERVED BREAK and spent a good hour couple of minutes deliberating whether my sudden love for RDJ was ever so slightly wrong. He's 46. Too old? Definitely old enough to be my dad. But then I realised that Alan Rickman, whose existence captivates my heart with little boundaries, is 10 years older so it's all okay. I can carry on.

This time in four weeks I'll be making my descent into Toronto. Not just me. I'll be on a plane, obviously, because unless the human evolutionary process takes a sprint and leap, I'll need transport of some sort. I've been wondering during the course of today about what I'll be doing then. Making a fuss because I haven't got a window seat? Whacking the poor sod next to me with my elbows, which I forget exist sometimes because I'm not very spatially aware, for the millionth time? Pressing the alarm button instead of the light button above me? Screaming in the toilet when I  flush because THAT SHIT IS SCARY (not literally, just the noise. i mean not THAT noise...the flush noise *digs hole deeper out of plane*...NOT THAT HOLE. jesus. you lot. seriously. stop.).

I think I am underestimating the actually-getting-over-the-atlantic-to-the-other-side-of-the-world-on-my-own process. Once I've done that, it'll be fine. My auntie has already got an itinerary which includes seeing War Horse on Torontofied Broadway, seeing films that don't come out here for months which is infinitely more exciting that it should be, buying copious amounts of Hershey's Cookies n Creme, and spending 3 days with my cousin. I've yet to make the point that if we don't go to Niagara Falls, she'll be stripped from my family. *sweet smile*

Alas, Canada is 4 weeks away yet and I still have 3 exams, 3 essays, and my practical coursework to finish before then....subject to me being alive after Sherlock: The Reichenbach Fall tonight.



It'll be fine.

Just fine.

*twitch*

4 comments:

  1. I haven't seen any of the Sherlock's on TV. Is this a massive mistake? Can you just dip in or is it too late to start?!

    Also, I think liking people older than you is fine. When, like me, you dream of the chino boy from One Direction after seeing him in Glamour mag is not fine. What's more is I consciously didn't find him attractive, apparently subconsciously he was boyfriend material. So happy to find out he's 20 and not, like I suspected, 15. Shoot me now.

    Laura x

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    Replies
    1. Buy the DVDs! Series 1 and 2 are out and they're definitely worth the money. xx

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  2. Hi, just have to say that I love your writing so much! It's really entertaining and so well written! Keep up the great work :)

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