I'm up to make little sandwiches for Alina's sparkly fairy princess and llama's 21st birthday. Everyone loves little sandwiches!
Tonight I have to pack and get an early night because I have to get a taxi to the airport at seven - which is actually a far more reasonable hour than most of my morning flights and I hope it won't be too crowded on the roads. It cost Ali $70 to get back from there the other day when it's usually a $40 journey. Ick. But I have cash and if all goes wrong I'll walk the last of it! (Sadly not enough money to go buy some new earphones though so I'll have to be on the plane with the ones I have that one work in one ear. This is annoyance.)
Also, if the earth starts shaking shit up and the airport gets closed I'm going to be muchos pissed off. They will hear my rage across the sea. So... just keep it down, tectonic plates. Be cool. (I'm coming BACK to the city you broke so nicely for me, don't worry!)
Still haven't packed. Packing is for losers.
Oh! The world didn't end, I just noticed! Although I haven't seen Lara this morning so it is very possible she has been raptured. Alison and I have to prepare ourselves for this inevitability. We will had to eat all the noms ourselves and get someone to watch the cats while we're away.
So, the plan for tonight was to turn the four metres of red fabric I bought into a dress instead. So Jen and I watched Mean Girls (OH YES WE DID) while I laid it all out on the floor and sort of made a pattern out of newspaper. By twenty minutes later I decided that I had no a clue what I was doing and maybe cutting the cloth up and just sort of pasting it to my body wasn't the best idea. I'll see if I can instead get a hold of Sam verysoon and she can tell me what to do, because whatever I was thinking wasn't working.
I lack the skills.
So I decided that I would work on the button holes on my other dress... but I have no blue thread to match it.
So tonight I got exactly nothing done on my medieval clothes, except for getting Jen into them and finding she looked quite hot in them. (But, let's face it, girl looks pretty damn good in most things, the sexy-waisted excellent-breasted cow. Although, a cow would mean udders not breasts and now there's all this imagery going on in my head and it needs to stop immediately.)
For the first time in a year I have dyed my hair. A YEAR. That's pretty much the longest I gone without dying it since I was about sixteen, which is madness. No photos, because it's not that dramatic. Just a rather pretty and very non-medieval berry sort of red. It has a nice sun glow to it but not the radioactive I used to have.
LFoD drinkies tonight means I have to clean my room. As one can understand this is a horrible thing for me to face and I have to remove to poets so I can vacuum. (Rats? Strangely not fond of the very loud sucking machine. Who would have thought it?) Uuuuugh, task too daunting. Abort. Abort.
Slave auction and party last night was pretty damn awesome even if I was - shock horror - sober. (See, mum? Totally not a drunk ;P) Had heaps of fun actually and did my regular trick of stealing leather jackets from the nearest male. It remains one of my very favourite games.
I want to end this on something really witty, but alas I have nothing.
EDIT: Hats make me look like a twat.
Rock on, my bitches.
Oh fingers, why you so cold?
There is a rat balanced rather precariously upon my head. He's going to fall and he knows it, which is why he keeps burying his claws in my scalp. Ow, Byron! He needs to learn to remain in more comfortable places. Not very bright is he.
Everyone is out now and the house is stupidly quite, which means I require music. And now that that's fixed in a minute I'm about to call someone to ask about an Othello audition. Because, mmmm, Othello. I haven't done any proper acting since high school so it's very possible I suck at it by now but, hey, it's just an audition. No harm in that. I wish I still had the singing voice I used to in my earlyish teens because then I could do muuusicals. I loves me some musicals.
Alison and I got out the first season of Queer As Folk last week and it was awesome, especially in the deja vu kind of way. Man, I used to love that show so much. I am discovering I am still quite fond. Jen got sucked into it as well toward the end of the season and now both she and Ali and flailing over Season Finale Dramah. It's funny ;D And then we watched the first episode of Dexter (with bubbly!) when it was on the telly the other night. Good, although I'm not yet sure what I make of it. I shall withhold judgement until I've seen a few more.
Sena brought around the latest episode of SPN and I now can't get the silly fake theme song out of my head:
Ghost, Ghost Facers! We go the places where the others will not!
Ghost, Ghost Facers! We stay in the kitchen when the kitchen gets hot!
Heh heh heh.
And, oh! The Sarah Conner Chronicles are going to start soon! Fuck yeah! I'm really hoping it's going to be good. Please wipe all memory of that terrible third film from my mind.
Hey baby! I'm back in the USSR! And by that I, of course, mean New Zealand. And I thought I had some really fascinating things to say here but now that I'm typing I'm proving myself wrong on that front.
Tasmania was good, if a little weird. Everything was all very the same except for me. And, as predicted, I did in fact have the brightest hair in all of Devonport. (But, of god, Devonport has not escaped the scene kids. They're there as well. Not so much with the emos, but the horrible eighties hair with the lawnmower cuts and the random sections of bleach? Oooh yeah. All over the show.)
Got to see both Arsène Lupin and Golden Compass which is basically so much Eva Green that I was in the land of gorgeous happy. It's a good land.
I'm so glad I don't have to fly anywhere for a long time. I'm rather sick of planes right now, and not entirely fond of car trips either as we drove from one end of Tasmania and then back again. At least I got a few hours with a Nikki and a Lewi at Melbourne on the way over. That was beyond awesome to see them :)
I'm losing days. I thought it was NYE tonight but it's not, is it? Alison is confusing me by telling me there was a party! (Unless there is and it just isn't NYE? I'm so out of the loop!) Or is it, in fact, New Year's Eve? Hello? Where am I? Who am I? Will someone please return me to the Asylum for Wayward Girls before I become a danger to all?
Need we say it was not love,
Now that love is perished?
There's something very wrong about being able to see your breath when you're inside the house. It's unnatural and I'm still not really used to it. This is my third winter - I think - and I'm still floored by how cold it gets. (And yet: we're coming up toward the end of winter now, and for all this cold did I get any snow? Nada.)
Last night we had a Simon Pegg marathon of sorts, watching the commentary on Hot Fuzz and then the first season of Spaced with Sena, Peter, and Sequoia. The living room floor is still covered in half full junk food packets, which means I'll have a nice healthy breakfast this morning. I'm thinking coke and cake myself.
Today Alison and I have to finish watching the very weird Riget, which is a Danish mini-series set in a hospital where creepy stuff goes on. (We got this one out after watching Kingdom Hospital, the American - and fantastic - remake.) Anyway, Riget is getting more and more disturbing as it reaches the end, including giving me the image I could have gone the rest of my life without: a woman giving birth and a grown man's head bursting forth and screaming. Yes. That ones not going to leave me any time soon.
And then this afternoon back to Alice's to return this and probably get Kingdom Hospital out again. Because, oh god, it was so great. Hilarious. With singing and dancing doctors, a magical sarcastic and pun-making anteater, Mr Bennet, and a sexy sexy sexy undead spirit of eeeevil.
Mmmmm, sexy evil.