another weekend wasted

i looked at porn. i cleaned out the inboxes on two email accounts. i watched videos. i answered online surveys for a chance to win $10,000. which is possibly the most desperate thing i've ever done to occupy myself. i looked up cruises i'll never go on. i made fresh orange and grapefruit juices and drank them. i slept right through the wine tasting thing today -- it started at noon and i didn't wake up till 1:30.

i dug out my ancient P266 laptop, which still works, and figured out how to enable the USB port and installed a driver for my USB drive (i found it! i found it!). i tried to install the proper driver for my wireless card on it, but the machine crashes midway through installation every time.

i'm thinking i could use some metal brackets to hold the screen in a usable position. i don't really need to close it anyway, since the battery is missing. but it'll do for writing, and i'm not really using mister_borogove's laptop for work enough to justify hanging onto it, so now i can return it.

the P266 is missing the "I" key, which is pretty annoying, and the Enter key sticks. i wonder if i could still get a replacement keyboard. it'd probably cost more than it'd be worth.

the juice was nice.

ceasing to exist for two days isn't as relaxing as having a weekend. and posting to lj and waiting for responses isn't the same as communicating.

i miss communicating.

sigh.

Kill Bill: Vol. 1

finally got around to watching it.

what's the big deal? have i really lost so much of my old comic-geek nature behind that i just can't appreciate it, or what?

it's an ok action movie. it's an ok western. it's an ok hong kong movie. it's an ok comic book. and it's an ok quentin tarantino movie. (certainly a hell of a lot better than the CSI episode he directed recently, in which he utterly failed to grok the characters and their real motivations and turned them into not-even-accurate caricatures.)

but it is not a great example of any of those genres. i think he overreached. i don't think he's good enough to pull off what he was trying to do here with the sort of panache one expects of tarantino.

three stars out of five for the spurting blood and the Pussy Wagon.