First off, thank you to everyone who came to my party, it rocked the house! One of my measures of a good party is people making new connections, and by that yardstick it was a great party. Holler if you have a larger friendslist now! Also holler if you made a friend but in the cold light of day don't know who they actually are on the interwebs.
It was also to be the start of my Big Daft Project: for ages I've had trouble where a good night's sleep (IE 8 hours) causes me to not be able to get to bed in time for another good night's sleep. So, I decided to actually try staying up for 20 hours after every 8 hours, and sleep my way around the clock. A lot of factors made this a good weekend to try it on, most obviously that we have a bank holiday weekend, and the fact that work only specifies that we must be present from 10-4 (and make up the hours, obviously). But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Actually, I might as well start on Thursday, as that's when I went out my first film of the Sci-Fi London film festival. It was La Antena, a faux-silent black and white film from Spain about a town where almost everyone has adapted to the loss of their voices. This is done by the words they speak appearing on screen, but as physical 2-D objects that the actors can interact with - presenting them, waving them away - in a way that actually becomes second nature. Like the early-days films that this is pastiching, you get a definite sense that there isn't a wasted second, every shot having something to add. Also a few references - that Jules Verne "Moon" shot, and Metropolis, and probably a few more that I missed. So, recommended then.
Then home, and up at 9.00 on Friday, into work by 10.00, home and party! It was as I said a lot of fun, up to the obvious point, when it became more drunken and ranty for a bit. My favourite bit was probably katstevens managing in twenty minutes what me, khalinche and shermarama had failed at for six months: halfway through a conversation with her, flatmate Roz exclaimed "Right! That's it! I'm getting a livejournal!". I actually had to leave the second wave (of people who'd come from dr_f_dellamorte's club after it ended) downstairs when I went to bed at 5am - and they apparently didn't leave long before I got up at 1!
I then sadly failed to go see either of the films I'd meant to that afternoon, due to faffing. Actually it's more poor time management - even I can't faff about for six hours, but I can embark on a major project like catch up on what DC's weekly comic Countdown has been doing for the last few months (KIDS DON'T DO THIS) and then when it's time to go realise there's still 30 minutes faffing to do before leaving, and then go back to the project instead of getting the faffing done first.
But I did make it out to see one of the midnight marathons that the festival was putting on: not the anime or the MST3K ones, but the "Dead Space" horrorthon (well, mild-peril-thon): First, Alien, which I hadn't seen in ages, and which is still good fun. I saw the sequel before I saw Alien the first time, so it's only this time around that I realised that it's not really built as a hero movie - I think I heard that Sigourney Weaver was the least famous member of the cast at the time, so it's a nice trick that it's basically an ensemble cast (John Hurt! Ian Holm! Harry Dean Stanton!) which gets smaller and smaller, and presumably at the time it wasn't clear until the end who'd survive.
After that was Pitch Black, which I have embarrassingly owned on DVD for several years without watching it. It's well written, with memorable characters and nice twists, which is a pleasant bonus as its main function is society is That Vin Diesel Film, the one that for a decade you could imagine producers going "Look, just do what you did there again, and we'll build a film around it". With diminishing results, but I'm not sure that's entirely his fault.
And then the Clooney Solaris, which is "meditative" (IE I was most at danger of sleeping through). It's actually quite good! It features a lot of George Clooney, a lot of George Clooney's arse, a lot of Natasha Mcelhone, quite a bit of her arse as well, both of them going a bit "Am I mad?", and Jeremy Davis stealing the show as someone who is quite clearly more than a bit mad, not in a manic way, but still very clearly, yeah. The story is back-of-a-napkin stuff, but I still liked it.
I fecked off home rather than watch The Thing, because I'd managed to book a ticket on the back row not knowing that the cinema filled from the front, and so there was no way for tigerpig to come watch with me until she had to go do other organising-the-festival things, as was the plan. And a necessary part of the plan, as I am an enormous wuss, and won't watch something that scary unaccompanied. But anyway, home on the tube, sit around a bit, bed at 9am.
And up again before 5pm, as one of my flatmates was hoovering. She seemed very apologetic, which was foolish, because I don't wish to discourage cleanliness just because I'm doing a big daft project. Anyway, I found out that bigcat23 couldn't make it out to the Aleister Crowley film I mentioned previously, which is eventually handy, as I left the tickets at home when setting out. So I went into work for a bit, came home, napped from 7-9am, then got to bed at 1pm, or rather 2pm, woke up unable to sleep at 4pm ... and decided the game was up. Actually staying up from 9pm yesterday through to 5pm this evening would have been the hardest bit, but it would also have meant that I couldn't have gone to my friend's comedy night this evening, or to the cinema tomorrow evening, so basically sod that.