loving the alien

Good lord. My evenings being bleak and empty as a result of having ripped through Torchwood in short order, I watched the first four episodes of Roswell last night. They're... teen drama. Slow, obvious, slightly flaccid, and distracting because (a) Max is played by the narcissistic cancer-dying wannabe-vampire from Buffy, and (b) I am beginning to understand why Teh Internets have the Katherine Heigl hate, she portrays "smug bitch" with suspicious virtuosity. But the series is vaguely entertaining nonetheless, probably because I'll take my aliens in whatever form I can get. It's an addiction. (Unlike Red Bull).

However, the major revelation vouchsafed by the series is that Stephanie Meyer totally ripped the first bit of Twilight off from the Roswell pilot. She's not only slow, obvious, slightly flaccid, prone to hideous gender politics and totally dire as a writer, she's a plagiarist. Either that or female adolescent romantic yearning has some intrinsic, inevitable component which simply has to be expressed by constructing angsty relationships with super-powerful inhuman stalkery men across a shared bunsen burner. Personally I find the bunsen burner a bit of a stretch.

Weekend of manic socialising ahead, and I'm still short on sleep after graduation hell-week. Anyone finding me in a somnambulistic daze in corner of a party in the next two days, please prod me gently awake and recite a brief orientation spiel.