*happy chirping*
Nov. 12th, 2003 10:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
verbicideSo woke up, and Ellie called for Day Of Fun. We went to run errands and eat at CPK (soup and salad, so no Atkins cheating). Then on to Queen Anne to the most gorgeous fabric shop ever. ALL KINDS. I mean, really special types... brocades and beaded taffeta and ... no I don't wear either of these types of fabric but they make for amazing projects, dammit! Ellie was really admiring some of the silk brocade types, so I might make her a skirt. I need a million dollars now so I can go buy all the fabric there and sit in my room cooing over it. I need a project NOW that requires varied and exquisite fabric. Then to the yarn store where I spent too much on nice grey wool for Kiki's scarf. And new bamboo wired needles. Whoop!
Ok. Yes. I'm this excited over wool. Bite me.
Then came home to Christmas Morning! When I went down to the post, I had three dvds from Netflix and Sarah's early birthday glorious gift to me - The Gosford Park Script book. I wandered around my flat hugging it to my chest and cooing to it. It's so beautiful and detailed and I am such an Edwardian England ho. I want to marry Julian Fellowes (but you know, only until Clive is available again)
The Clive Owen movies. Yes, let's talk about them, shall we? Or, rather, I'll talk, you'll read (or run away shrieking as is any reader's choice):
Greenfingers: Clive is a brooding convict who through the kindness of an old man becomes an obsessive gardener. He goes to um this progressive prison where they try to turn the convicts into humans by treating them better and yes, well, it sounds weird describing it here, but it was a sweet movie. We even get to see Smiley Happy In Love Clive. And Shirtless Under The Covers Clive. And thus: Drooling Orgasmic Cat.
Croupier: Not finished watching it (West Wing intervened). Clive is a brooding *dingding* CROUPIER and kind of a bastard, but in a sexy way, of course. Actually he's a frustrated writer getting the inside scoop. Big shocking moment was seeing him BLOND. While I was struck dumb staring at the screen in shock and not...displeasure but not pleasure, he kindly dyed it back black. Good Clive. *purr* Sort of movie that you wish you could watch while chain-smoking and drinking bourbon and grittily bearing all the wounds of your life.
I also rented Neverwhere, despite hearing it was crap, just to see. It was a very low budget britishy thing. Not bad, but not good and not special effectsy as one would fantasize about Neverwhere being.
So after briefly working on Judy's quillow, I sat contentedly in front of the television for about 7 hours winding my new skein of yarn into a ball (which I totally pantsed up and this is why it took bleeding 7 hours to unravel).
Sometimes my patience startles me.
Oh! More stories.
So at the yarn store (shut yup, yes back there again), I had to pee. And Ellie kindly pointed out that they had a bathroom upstairs. So up I went. And this place had the nicest freaking bathroom. It's a converted Victorian, and had a full bathroom (complete with tub). While doing my business, I looked around (since I don't pee with my eyes clamped shut). It was soo nicely appointed. Scented soaps and lotions. Real towels. Real toilet paper roll with soft toilet paper. Maybe I'm getting old that this thrilled me to pieces, but it was such a nice bathroom and yes, ok, I'll stop.
Today has been very bathroom-y. Sarah shared a hilarious LJ with me on bathroom etiquette and then I shared my Nordstrom’s Bathroom/Gap BJ story of shame to her shock and amusement.
Please, if you have bathroom stories of horror or fun, do share.
Ok. Yes. I'm this excited over wool. Bite me.
Then came home to Christmas Morning! When I went down to the post, I had three dvds from Netflix and Sarah's early birthday glorious gift to me - The Gosford Park Script book. I wandered around my flat hugging it to my chest and cooing to it. It's so beautiful and detailed and I am such an Edwardian England ho. I want to marry Julian Fellowes (but you know, only until Clive is available again)
The Clive Owen movies. Yes, let's talk about them, shall we? Or, rather, I'll talk, you'll read (or run away shrieking as is any reader's choice):
Greenfingers: Clive is a brooding convict who through the kindness of an old man becomes an obsessive gardener. He goes to um this progressive prison where they try to turn the convicts into humans by treating them better and yes, well, it sounds weird describing it here, but it was a sweet movie. We even get to see Smiley Happy In Love Clive. And Shirtless Under The Covers Clive. And thus: Drooling Orgasmic Cat.
Croupier: Not finished watching it (West Wing intervened). Clive is a brooding *dingding* CROUPIER and kind of a bastard, but in a sexy way, of course. Actually he's a frustrated writer getting the inside scoop. Big shocking moment was seeing him BLOND. While I was struck dumb staring at the screen in shock and not...displeasure but not pleasure, he kindly dyed it back black. Good Clive. *purr* Sort of movie that you wish you could watch while chain-smoking and drinking bourbon and grittily bearing all the wounds of your life.
I also rented Neverwhere, despite hearing it was crap, just to see. It was a very low budget britishy thing. Not bad, but not good and not special effectsy as one would fantasize about Neverwhere being.
So after briefly working on Judy's quillow, I sat contentedly in front of the television for about 7 hours winding my new skein of yarn into a ball (which I totally pantsed up and this is why it took bleeding 7 hours to unravel).
Sometimes my patience startles me.
Oh! More stories.
So at the yarn store (shut yup, yes back there again), I had to pee. And Ellie kindly pointed out that they had a bathroom upstairs. So up I went. And this place had the nicest freaking bathroom. It's a converted Victorian, and had a full bathroom (complete with tub). While doing my business, I looked around (since I don't pee with my eyes clamped shut). It was soo nicely appointed. Scented soaps and lotions. Real towels. Real toilet paper roll with soft toilet paper. Maybe I'm getting old that this thrilled me to pieces, but it was such a nice bathroom and yes, ok, I'll stop.
Today has been very bathroom-y. Sarah shared a hilarious LJ with me on bathroom etiquette and then I shared my Nordstrom’s Bathroom/Gap BJ story of shame to her shock and amusement.
Please, if you have bathroom stories of horror or fun, do share.
