"Voyage of the Dawn Treader" was better the second time around, and I liked it a LOT the first time. I'm glad I took the time to see it again.
"The Way Back" is the story of three men who escaped from a Soviet gulag during WWII, and walked south until they got to India. It's a pretty good movie, and would be REALLY inspiring, if it were true. It turns out that three men did show up in northern India in 1941, claiming to escaped from a gulag and walked out. Except no one bothered to get their names, or record any of the details. Subsequently, a former gulag inmate (who had been released in 1943 so he could go to war against the Germans) wrote a fraudulent account of making the journey himself. This movie is based on that fraudulent account. So... interesting movie, but fatally flawed from the outset.
"The Mechanic" is a SILLY action movie that takes itself WAY too seriously. It's still fun, but less than it might have been.
"127 Hours" is simultaneously inspiring, disgusting, and kind of boring. It is a well constructed presentation of a fascinating story-- but the story really only takes about ten minutes to tell. I am not sure that it is worth taking the time to watch. (It might be; I am just not sure.)
So... 101.6 on Saturday. I spent the day shivering and being loopy, then spent the next two days recovering. I haven't been that sick since 1999, I think.
The blizzard... I stayed late on Tuesday doing two days worth of tape movement, so that we could ignore the remote site the following day. Went home, slept, loaded even more survival gear into the RAV, and went in to work. I was the only member of my shift who came in at midnight; no one from the previous shift even TRIED to go home. It took me about three times as long to get in (in second gear the whole way) as it usually does. I drove through a few seconds of white-out on several occasions; I took my foot off of the gas and drove straight until visibility returned. Scary stuff. It took me some ten minutes to get the 150 yards from my car into the building, once I found a place to park; the drifts were that deep, and the wind was that nasty. The worst of it was that the air was so damp and snow-ridden that I couldn't catch a decent breath; my lungs are STILL not really right after that.
Have I mentioned lately that I hate winter? (Ok, I hate SNOW. I dislike cold, but I can deal with it. But I HATE snow.)