How bad does this look?
How much will I totally be seeing it?
Don't pretend that Conan the Barbarian wasn't an important part of your childhood! ...or maybe that was just mine? You know... looking back on it... Arnold Swarchenegger really was quite involved in my formative years: Terminator(s), Predator(s), Conan(s), Total Recall (which SCARRED ME, If you're reading this, mother!)
But this Conan is different. Because this Conan is Jason Momoa and I want into his pants. Like every sane person should.
I am now 98% moved into my new room and Lara's bedroom-to-be is empty and vacuumed and now only awaiting her gorgeous presence. There would be photos to prove both of these things were I able to be bothered. I'm not though.
Tomorrow sometime early afternoon I am leaving for Canterbury Faire and although I'm not supposed to get sunburned until then, I think I'm a little burned already from sitting in the sun today and watching Hera play in the arts centre. Damn you, day star!
Before bed the house has to be clean so Lara doesn't arrive to a sty. I suspect she wouldn't like that so much.
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.
Tonight there was an informal sewing group in the living room as we all try and finish garb before Canterbury Faire. (Oh man, so close. How much can I not wait for nine days of medievalness? The answer is A LOT.) I am not even half way around hemming the skirt on my GIANT freaking gown. It's going to take forever but it will be worth it. Everyone loves a huge skirt.
After sewing we didn't do much. Oh, except that we watched Repo!! OH MY GOD, FOR THE FRACKING WIN! :D It made me happy in my pants and in my soul. (The bits with Anthony Stewart Head singing and being evil made me especially happy in the pants region.)
How tempted am I to watch it again later tonight?
SO VERY MUCH Not at all. Nope. None.
Musical and Medieval both start with an M. M is clearly awesome.
I return from Lindisfarne and now, after falling into bed to recover a little, I am awake and STILL dressed in garb. Oh yes. It's the internet and medieval clothes at the same time. I'm fucking with the system.
The weekend was excellent though, even if I did get myself horribly trashed on night one and spent the next day feeling gross and hungover.