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So tonight Firefly airs again on SciFi Channel. About frakking time. I'm looking forward to Stargate and Battlestar, both new episodes, but I am looking forward to Firefly with almost the same amount of enthusiasm, and isn't that sad, because I've already seen all of those episodes enough to have them memorized.

There's a great article on why you should watch Firefly on SciFi if you haven't seen it yet. Let's go with "devoted," because "dangerously obsessive" sounds so negative. Also contains the line, "And remember, every time you support a canceled Fox show, somewhere a network executive loses his wings."

And I finished that Tanya Huff book Smoke and Shadows, )

And I have finally at least started my [livejournal.com profile] alphabetasoup stories, but I stupidly did it on my new laptop. It has no A drive or internet, the memory card doesn't work on the desktop that does have internet, so my only option is to waste a CD by putting one Word document on it. Maybe I'll wait a bit, see if I can get a few more so it's not a total waste.

And I finally saw the new version of Peter Pan. Wow. It was great. That completely unrealistic beauty, and Peter was wonderful. He was just golden. No other word. And Lucius/evil man from Patriot was Hook, which was wonderful... just a great movie. The end of Peter Pan always kills me. I mean, I always loved the Disney version and the musical version I used to watch (Mary... someone, played Peter. I loved that version.), but it's only been the last few years that saw staged versions with the final ending, with Wendy grown up. Once you've seen that with adult eyes, you start seeing how the rest of it... I can't say it's not a kids' play. But I think it's perfect in that you don't see anything but the fun of it when you're a kid. It's only when you grow up that you miss that carefree attitude, that Neverland feeling.

Who doesn't wish they could be a kid forever, sometimes? For me, it's going back to playing kickball with the neighborhood kids until the late late hour of nine o'clock. It's playing fantastic games with nothing but Dad's old ties, sticks, and some stuffed animals in Mr. Carlos's backyard. Climbing trees and not caring about bugs and dirt and being really sweaty; new tennis shoes for summer and never caring about what you wore as long as it was good for playing fifty different versions of tag (freeze tag, toilet tag, regular tag, ball tag) and SPUD.

I miss those days a lot, sometimes.

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