Yesterday was nice. Rolling out of our bed, getting ready, shopping, cleaning, greeting our friend as he arrived in Stockholm.

I'm nowhere near Dr. Thompson/Withnail's famous The Fear, thank The Dark Lawd. I'm wrapping up my last week at work before the holidaze which will probably be magnificent, should the weather be good. I'm thinking of what it'd be like to go abroad for a week. Somewhere sunny, preferably not to a spot filled with human wildebeest. Tranquility, to some extent. In the sun, together with X. Excursions at our own behest. Laying about a pool. Walking. Dining. Having fun. Talking throughout the days and nights and reading books next to each-other. That would be bliss. Sure, it can be had at home, but my travelling side is calling.

Besides nothing, I can't believe how stupid I was to think that season 4 of "Dexter" was any good at all. As I watched it for the second time - first time with/for X - I realised that her complaints about it all were more than valid. One of the first things she complained about was how stiff the characters were; apparently, I horridly mistook bad acting for trying to create a noir feel to the entire thing. Second, the music is a complete misfit where Daniel Licht's original snippets aren't included; everything turns camp to that soundtrack. And by the way, this is the fourth season, something new should have developed by now, but oh no. Most of the things in the show were stiff. Motionless. Drawling. Drooling. Bad acting. Re-hashed stuff. Archetypes but not in a good way. Stale bread, simply dipped in water to make the fourth season come alive again. If nothing happens to that series in the first episode of season five, I don't know what gives.