you've every cause to doubt me
Not a bad day. I had extremely awesome hair and was wearing my favourite v-neck pullover with the slim blue trousers so I felt fucking incredible and was back to walking around with my head held high like I own the city. Funny how much of a difference a good hair day makes. Hee.
Actually I just realised I worked a full eight hours. Should make for good money. Which is excellent because I so need to get my savings back up to a decent amount. Still aiming for that new laptop, see. Also all these albums I want to buy, not the least of which wanting to pelt money at Phil Garrison for his creative generosity.
And ohhhh man, the Dymocks stationery department have this new range of absolutely divine ornate journals in various sizes and colours and luscious designs that made my palms itch with the need to fill all their parchmenty pale pages. *drools* Paperblanks. Decently priced, too, much cheaper than my beloved Moleskines. They're not all lined either which is like colossally awesome because at the moment I'm feeling extremely claustrophobic when writing in the current journal that has a gorgeous cover but fucking horribly close lines. *shudder* I HATE lined journals! They make my hackles rise, all skincrawly rebellious and ornery and violently Aquarian.
Still, I came home determined to collage up the last research journal and the new one so I can do novel work during court and not have my thoughts circle the same unresolvable problem. Just did so, pulled out the Syd tribute music mags and he must have been vibing with me because I found the letters I needed almost immediately and they're all nicely cut out and taped down across yet another Moleskine cahier. Verrah stylish, if I do say so myself. I'm up to the fifth research journal, did I mention? So never writing an urban fantasy novel ever again. Too much fucking work.
Watched The African Queen tonight which I bought nigh on six months ago for my very own. It's been so long since I've seen it that I don't think I ever realised just how attractive they both are, how utterly beautiful Kate Hepburn is in colour, and just how much those special effects don't stand the test of time. They totally let the whole film down, the terrible superimposition edges, the odd green tinge and the glaring obviousness between studio and location shots. Still, the wide shots of the boat going down the river thrill me to bits. And the leeches scene makes me scream every time. *goes into fits of terror* I can never decide whether it's a sweet film or slightly silly. Maybe I'm too used to John Ford directing Henry Fonda. Mmmmm Mister Roberts ... I wonder if there's any Pulver/Roberts slash ... ooh errr.
I may be unhealthily attached to Natalie Imbruglia singing Identify. It's actually overtaken Anemone in my Last.FM stats. Holy fuck. Swear to god I listened to it three times last night and then watched the video. Even toyed with the notion of hunting down/doing screencaps for an LJ header but decided that might be asking for trouble. Tch! What I need is Natasha Richardson being all cheeky and lewd under the auspices of Cumming, Alan. Oh yes.
Actually I just realised I worked a full eight hours. Should make for good money. Which is excellent because I so need to get my savings back up to a decent amount. Still aiming for that new laptop, see. Also all these albums I want to buy, not the least of which wanting to pelt money at Phil Garrison for his creative generosity.
And ohhhh man, the Dymocks stationery department have this new range of absolutely divine ornate journals in various sizes and colours and luscious designs that made my palms itch with the need to fill all their parchmenty pale pages. *drools* Paperblanks. Decently priced, too, much cheaper than my beloved Moleskines. They're not all lined either which is like colossally awesome because at the moment I'm feeling extremely claustrophobic when writing in the current journal that has a gorgeous cover but fucking horribly close lines. *shudder* I HATE lined journals! They make my hackles rise, all skincrawly rebellious and ornery and violently Aquarian.
Still, I came home determined to collage up the last research journal and the new one so I can do novel work during court and not have my thoughts circle the same unresolvable problem. Just did so, pulled out the Syd tribute music mags and he must have been vibing with me because I found the letters I needed almost immediately and they're all nicely cut out and taped down across yet another Moleskine cahier. Verrah stylish, if I do say so myself. I'm up to the fifth research journal, did I mention? So never writing an urban fantasy novel ever again. Too much fucking work.
Watched The African Queen tonight which I bought nigh on six months ago for my very own. It's been so long since I've seen it that I don't think I ever realised just how attractive they both are, how utterly beautiful Kate Hepburn is in colour, and just how much those special effects don't stand the test of time. They totally let the whole film down, the terrible superimposition edges, the odd green tinge and the glaring obviousness between studio and location shots. Still, the wide shots of the boat going down the river thrill me to bits. And the leeches scene makes me scream every time. *goes into fits of terror* I can never decide whether it's a sweet film or slightly silly. Maybe I'm too used to John Ford directing Henry Fonda. Mmmmm Mister Roberts ... I wonder if there's any Pulver/Roberts slash ... ooh errr.
I may be unhealthily attached to Natalie Imbruglia singing Identify. It's actually overtaken Anemone in my Last.FM stats. Holy fuck. Swear to god I listened to it three times last night and then watched the video. Even toyed with the notion of hunting down/doing screencaps for an LJ header but decided that might be asking for trouble. Tch! What I need is Natasha Richardson being all cheeky and lewd under the auspices of Cumming, Alan. Oh yes.