The Cult of Ellen

Dollhouse 2.

Compound bow. Gives the game away. The guy's a w****r. Oh look! He is! See my Archery!Snob! (Yes, I know whereof I speak, a year as the president of UofY ArcherySoc. Don't mess.)

Joss Whedon is a git. No, really. And yes, I'd write his tie-in novels. Ask me. The answer's yes. *grin*

So my big 3 deadlines are done (successfully). Which leads me right into my next deadline - medieval clothes. I need to get cheap silk and do a pile of sewing.

Last weekend, ravenlas took me to see Hulk!SMASH, which was great. And my wonderful friends Woody and Sarah and alasdair1076 and Kate came round and played games on the Wii while ravenlas played Age of Conan and I laughed myself silly and knitted and cooked pizzas. Best day in ages! (Apart from my party, but that was a different kind of good. You know what I mean.)

This week has largely been a big pile of tired. I have slept and sat on the sofa and knitted and watched films and read slashfic and written some fic and been to Leeds and failed to buy silk and had lunch at alasdair1076's house and discovered I need to fiddle with my bike gears.

And all my programs are coming to an end. Doctor Who, House, Grey's Anatomy, Reaper, Chuck... What am I going to watch over the summer? See, now if that's not a case for illegal downloading of films and all sorts, I don't know what is. *kicks stupid summer tv recess* I'll be reduced to watching fanvids on YouTube! Oh, wait, I already do that...

Or I could just read that slushpile, sign those remortgage papers, post those late birthday cards and wash my bike... Hmmm...

ETA: And I really should practise my cello more than once every 18 months... My dad called. From a pub in Brecon. Where he was with my mum - and my cello teacher. She taught me from junior school all the way through to 6th form college. Note the present tense. She'll always be my cello teacher. She's back in Huddersfield often enough (to teach some uni students) and is willing to give me lessons. Which humbles me. Here is the woman who taught me how to listen - to whom I owe the the fruition of my musical abilities - who can pick and choose her students. And she's still willing to teach me. I don't think I'll ever stop being her student. Way to go, Mrs Cawood!

( Christmas: or, How I Learned to Stick to Chanukah... )

Back in York, ravenlas and I went sales shopping. I bought: 3 pairs of pyjamas, 4 towels, a lamp and some monster furry slippers from BHS. And then we went to Monsoon, and I bought a pair of trousers. ravenlas bought me a silk skirt and a jacket, and the jacket wasn't even in the sale! He's so good to me, and I don't deserve him. We called into Game, and ravenlas got a computer game, and I did too, only mine was only £1.99, so I'm not expecting great things of it. Then we had dinner at Russell's Carvery, went home, came back into town, gave said monster slippers to a_crow for his birthday, saw his flat - v. envious as it's in one of the Georgian town houses on Micklegate, and it's a gorgeous building - and went out for a drink. Various folks were there, and I got to see Vicky's Peru photos, but all too soon we had to head home as we're at work today. Only... when I got home, I opened a bottle of wine and sat and watched Pretty Woman, which is still a darned good film. So I got to bed at 1:30am, rather squiffy, and though I could catch a later train into work, I'm still tired and a wee bit achey. Meh. That'll teach me... Oh, and I have done No Writing. At all. I will have to rectify this state of affairs.

So far today, I've done no work whatsoever. I suspect that state of affairs will continue until next week... *heh*