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( Русский язык )

Gnarl. A little less than a month and I'm out of practice. Two more grammar points and then it's reading Night Watch (or, well, Twilight Watch) and translating pieces and so on and so forth. Until I actually manage to embed this silly language into my brain.

The more I watch TV shows from the past and present, the more I wonder why physicality and physical awareness has become a thing for TV actors lately. Recently watching Sherlock, I notice Benedict Cumberbatch has all the limbs ever and flails them around in ways that should be ungraceful but actually he's very coordinated. Purposeful in the flailing. Whereas watching Highlander from about fifteen years ago, the two most physically coordinated people in the cast are the two who do extensive physical training outside of acting, the marathon runner/multi-athelon athlete and the martial artist. And Amanda is all over the place with her body and her limbs. This doesn't entirely explain Bruce Boxleitner, who also has all the limbs ever and is actually very graceful, but, wait, no, equestrian. Never mind. Compare also, Tom Hiddleston, Jackie Earle Haley's directedness in Watchmen, um. I should look also at younger actors who aren't martial artists, but.

Anyway, the more I think about this, the more I also realize that physicality is a really major button with me. Which amuses me. Today, though, less moving around, or, well, maybe not. Maybe getting up and stretching every hour or so. Anyway, less focusing on moving around, more focusing on getting more scenes bashed out in the Big Bang of suck so I can make it suck less in the second go-round. And self-indulgent Methos-focused Mary Sue.

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( Deutsch )

So, I got sidetracked from what I was originally going to blather about into looking for pictures of the space ship house our family beach house is down the street from. And by street I mostly mean barely paved road, but hey. Anyway, there was a space ship house. And I did some digging on the internet, because god I love the internet, we didn't have this thing back when I went to the beach house. And apparently? They mass produced the fuckers. No, seriously, there are almost a hundred of them out there. I do not have words for how cool and simultaneously disturbing this is.

So. Um. There was other stuff I was going to talk about today, but now I'm sleepytired and my wrist hurts again. Tonight's writing will, I think, take place mostly by dictation. On the plus side I'm almost done with at least one bright pink arm warmer, and if I'm dictating I can work on both that and the boy's arm warmers too. And it's getting cold enough where he'll probably need them. After that, mm, something. Maybe a scarf.

Picking up a pedometer for myself, and testing it out because the boy might could use one too. I really wish the weather weren't changing so fast, I could get out more consistently in the mornings and go for runs, but it's barely above freezing one morning and in the fifties the next. Argh. Time to get out the jump rope, the hula hoop, and all of that. Oh winter. We have such a love-hate relationship.