More photos.

This bunch is from the previous days due to the fact that I've been less than industrious with my camera and I also left the memory card in said camera in the hospital.



My li'l girl with her best impression of her brother and his "zen" expression. Also a little endorsement for the iPod mini and the JVC speaker stand. (Thanks Tym).



My li'l boy looking like he's on his mobile with Bluetooth finger attachment. Effect spoilt by the fact that he's eating his other hand. :)

More to come.

And if you're thinking that this blog has become a blog where I just gush about my kids.....Well....It has. I apologise but they're all I'm thinking about right now. :P

And it's my blog anyway.

*Gush*

Speechless...

And rightly so.

And how I'm feeling right now needs to be put to words but I'm all worded out.

They arrived on the 26th. I wish I could have blogged about it then but I stayed in the hospital because I didn't want to leave them on the first night.

I'm exhausted. So I'm going to just let Toby Ziegler say it for me...

(I'm pretty sure it's misquoted but I'll just say that this is how I feel)

Leo: The babies are okay?
Toby: Yeah. They're great. And if somebody was hurting them, I'd drop napalm on Yellowstone to get them to stop, letting some prisoners out of jail wouldn't be nothing, and I've known my kids for about 45 minutes.


Son


Daughter

The Dea(r)th of Good Television.

Battlestar Galactica is ending.

It had a good run. Or so they say. 4 (after its final) seasons. An entire fan community. Critical acclaim by the media critics. And the alteration of real life cuss words. But the Galactica ends its voyage after 92 episodes. Impressive. Most impressive.

Frak that I say!

In a war of attrition that's been going on for some time now, Television's been killing its brightest and its greatest. The slaughter began with the call to arms as Reality TV led the charge. Cheap and easy to produce, the battlefields quickly became saturated by the hordes of brainless programs that appeal to both the masses (because of the sheer inanity of it all) and the corporate fat cats that run the networks (because of the low cost of production). And it's sad when you see all the shows that fall on the wayside as the juggernaut which is brainless television programming forces its way through...Battlestar was the latest to fall, joining a pile of shows that didn't quite hit their prime.

1. Tru Calling. Cut down in it's prime with nay a chance to develop, a Tru pity that she couldn't time travel to prevent her early demise.
   
2. Veronica Mars. The spunky female investigator who did not survive to graduate college.
   
3. Angel. Vampire. Dusted just when the season was heading somewhere.
4. Firefly. Like the Galactica, Serenity got her wings clipped but resurfaced for one last adventure on the big screen in Serenity.
   

That said, there are still shows on TV that entertain without being TOO insulting to the intelligence. There's Heroes, which is certainly entertaining but not too cerebral. There's the upcoming Sarah Connor Chronicles which looks like it's going to either bomb or blast off and there's the ongoing Bones which feels like CSI meets Angel with a bit of Veronica Mars thrown in (which unfortunately for the series, although compelling, has nothing on the original series that it borrows from).

So while I lament the loss of great shows that actually made me think, I'll keep watch over the horizon for better programming. Failing which, it may be time to sit back, turn on the boob tube and let the brains dribble out of my ears.

Life is Messy, Love is Messier...

...but this movie's the messiest.

Catch and Release was a movie that I was really looking forward to. I caught the trailer during a movie and I really perked up when I recognised Kevin Smith in them. I mean, how bad could it be if Kevin Smith decided to be a part of it?

It could be BAD. Really, really bad.

It was messy. Like really, really messy.

There was a plot...somewhere. It was your basic sappy love story...except...it didn't make sense.
It didn't make sense why the leads fell in love. It didn't make sense why the supporting cast needed to be there. It didn't make sense why the plot had to revolve around the death of the fiance. It was formulaic, granted, most of the romantic comedies out there are. But this was a formulaic love story that was wrapped in a mystery (why they needed a supporting cast when they weren't really all that pertinent to the story at hand) and subsequently entangled in a whole lot of ribbons (plot points that just draaaagged the story...). It tried to be edgy. It tried to be dark. It ended up confused and (shall I say it again?) messy.

Which leads me to my final concluding thought as the credits rolled:

"Let Susannah Grant write. Let her direct. But for goodness' sakes, don't let her do both!"