This has been one of those weeks. Not a terrible, horrific week or anything of that ilk, just weird.
Exploding transformers, wacky octogenarians and sadness. On the other hand, it's been messy, creative and fulfilling. All things considered, I guess it balanced itself. I didn't. There's a need for release that carousing with friends just can't meet. I'm feeling the need for The Highlander.
Adrian Paul and his crew can work their magic. Lopping off heads, electrifying quickening, flashbacks in history all in the name of entertainment. Did I mention Adrian Paul? Three generations of the women in my family have watched every episode and movie ever made in the Highlander series. We are serious fans. My Mom is the one who first found the immortals and Watchers. My daughter grew up singing "Here we are....the princes of the universe". My brothers would give us good-natured smiles, a tad condescending perhaps, but if they were around for an episode in progress you know they were into the action. It's been a while since I've enjoyed a good swordfight. All right, there were those explosions, but no comparison to the pyrotechics after a decapitation. This is all very theraputic for me, soothing in kind of twisted way. Is there a sword or two in our home? Maybe. A katana? Maybe.
An official Highlander beer mug and/or wineglass? Maybe. Will I use any of the above items while partaking of my Highlander therapy? Heh, you bet I will. After all, there can be only one.