oh I guess there was a reason why I don't drink pepsi
Total pasties eaten in 2010 so far: 4
Achievement of the day: I closed a door on myself. NOT ON A HAND. NOT ON A FOOT. ON MY ENTIRE SELF. I was in a rush to exit the toilets and get back to Sherlock Holmes, things happened, it bruised.
*
YEAH THAT'S RIGHT, I saw Sherlock Holmes again with midnightglass and one of her flatmates. EFF WHY EYE Fal's cinema may be small but it is classy. We'd only ever been in the standard downstairs screens before, but UPSTAIRS there is a BAR and the screen has ARMCHAIRS AND SOFAS with extra leg room and LITTLE TABLES and the usher is also a WAITER. They gave me coke in an actual glass which I could take into the screen room with me! (And then I put it on the LITTLE TABLE once I was done.)
It was exactly as exciting as the emphatic capitals suggest, if not more so.
Sherlock Holmes was, if you're wondering, even more delightful this time round. And possibly even more homoerotic. I finally understand what Holmes' joke in the prison yard was about. (PROBABLE GAY SEX, is what.)
Watson's moustache was exactly as lavish as I had been expecting it to be, which was most lavish indeed.
*
Anyway, I have spent far too much money today. It's a little bit dreadful. I had to get new lip balm and then I spent a £5 Boots voucher (new eyeshadow! The voucher meant it only cost £2, but still. You can get a pasty for £2) and then the bloody pasties called to me. It isn't fair having so many pasty shops on one street, it really isn't. Then I got to the beach, realised I had forgotten to bring any pens with me and had to go back into town to get a pack of overpriced biros from the nearest shop (at which I also purchased tissues and cough sweets, because I can feel another cold coming on) and then I got back to the beach and got a cup of tea. Then, of course, the cinema and the pepsi in a Real Glass.
THAT IS FAR TOO MUCH DETAIL ABOUT MY DAY REALLY, ISN'T IT. (I also had a rather lovely stroll along the sea front once it was too chilly to sit on the cafe's terrace and read To Kill a Mockingbird. Next time I go down to Gylly, I really must take my camera with me. It's cruel to keep all that prettiness from you.)
I'm sorry. I very rarely have soft drinks. I'm not used to all the sugar and bubbles and things, it makes me somewhat talkative - oh bloody hell the fire alarm just went off. my ears. oh my poor, sweet ears. There we go - it was the cinema! waiter's! fault. (The soft drink consumption, that is. Not the fire alarm. I would be rather more concerned if the cinema waiter had followed me home and was burning things in my kitchen.)
I really must finish my 5x11 coda before the next episode. And when I say finish I mean, to be honest, begin. IT'S IN MY HEAD, THAT COUNTS, OKAY.
*
OH DEAR GOD NOT THE FIRE ALARM AGAIN. DAMN YOU CINEMA WAITER.
Achievement of the day: I closed a door on myself. NOT ON A HAND. NOT ON A FOOT. ON MY ENTIRE SELF. I was in a rush to exit the toilets and get back to Sherlock Holmes, things happened, it bruised.
*
YEAH THAT'S RIGHT, I saw Sherlock Holmes again with midnightglass and one of her flatmates. EFF WHY EYE Fal's cinema may be small but it is classy. We'd only ever been in the standard downstairs screens before, but UPSTAIRS there is a BAR and the screen has ARMCHAIRS AND SOFAS with extra leg room and LITTLE TABLES and the usher is also a WAITER. They gave me coke in an actual glass which I could take into the screen room with me! (And then I put it on the LITTLE TABLE once I was done.)
It was exactly as exciting as the emphatic capitals suggest, if not more so.
Sherlock Holmes was, if you're wondering, even more delightful this time round. And possibly even more homoerotic. I finally understand what Holmes' joke in the prison yard was about. (PROBABLE GAY SEX, is what.)
Watson's moustache was exactly as lavish as I had been expecting it to be, which was most lavish indeed.
*
Anyway, I have spent far too much money today. It's a little bit dreadful. I had to get new lip balm and then I spent a £5 Boots voucher (new eyeshadow! The voucher meant it only cost £2, but still. You can get a pasty for £2) and then the bloody pasties called to me. It isn't fair having so many pasty shops on one street, it really isn't. Then I got to the beach, realised I had forgotten to bring any pens with me and had to go back into town to get a pack of overpriced biros from the nearest shop (at which I also purchased tissues and cough sweets, because I can feel another cold coming on) and then I got back to the beach and got a cup of tea. Then, of course, the cinema and the pepsi in a Real Glass.
THAT IS FAR TOO MUCH DETAIL ABOUT MY DAY REALLY, ISN'T IT. (I also had a rather lovely stroll along the sea front once it was too chilly to sit on the cafe's terrace and read To Kill a Mockingbird. Next time I go down to Gylly, I really must take my camera with me. It's cruel to keep all that prettiness from you.)
I'm sorry. I very rarely have soft drinks. I'm not used to all the sugar and bubbles and things, it makes me somewhat talkative - oh bloody hell the fire alarm just went off. my ears. oh my poor, sweet ears. There we go - it was the cinema! waiter's! fault. (The soft drink consumption, that is. Not the fire alarm. I would be rather more concerned if the cinema waiter had followed me home and was burning things in my kitchen.)
I really must finish my 5x11 coda before the next episode. And when I say finish I mean, to be honest, begin. IT'S IN MY HEAD, THAT COUNTS, OKAY.
*
OH DEAR GOD NOT THE FIRE ALARM AGAIN. DAMN YOU CINEMA WAITER.