Fever Dreams

Today has been all about the fever. All last night, I whined about how my brain felt too hot and was laughed at (pause for obligatory >: sign) and couldn't sleep. Dragged myself into work today and got sent home. Which isn't too bad-- it won't count as an absence because I was sent home, but I have to make sure I go in tomorrow, fever or not, if I want my August holidays/Venice/Ireland/wherever days off to go by without raised eyebrows. Bleurgh.

My temperature's running high again and I have no bloody idea what's wrong. It's not a cold; it's certainly not 'flu or food poisoning... I just feel really off. And I dunt want to go to sleep because my last sleep an hour or so ago involved an angry dwarf with a knife, several bloody corpses and me running down endless dark corridors.

That said, I managed to get around to watching Ripley's Game, which I'd avoided because others had told me it was a rubbish adaptation. Whatever! I thought it was great; all beautiful cinematography, killer one liners and the whole dubious rooting-for-the-bad-guy thing. It wasn't as good as The Talented Mr. Ripley and of course was Jude Law-less, but still... I don't think it desecrated Highsmith's vision of Tom, and then there was Dermot Mulroney. Why can't my fevered brain dream of him?

(no subject)

Elijah Wood, being interviewed by Graham Norton on BBC1 right now. He had that big-eyed, beautiful thing going on, and we scoffed at him playing a football hooligan. Then he looked all violent and shouty and non-Hobbitish in the preview pics-- wig_maker and I agree that this is a film we'll probably be checking out, hatred of football be damned.

No, there's nothing weirdly sexy about the whole thing. At all.

ETA: And now, through a series of contrived articles, Norton asks Elijah about Liverpool girls. *Brain explodes* >:)