wwwiamasheep: (About that...)
Gizmo the Kitten sitting on a stool, nodding her head like a Bobble-Head Doll.

Why?

IT'S A CAT. ON A STOOL.
...
NODDING.

wwwiamasheep: (It's happy hour in New York.)
I've been been to see my new and very lovely hairdresser, who is lovely, did I mention that already?

Anyroad, the outcome of said appointment is that my hair is now about three inches shorter (still covers my collar bones, so result) than an hour ago, but on the plus side, it no longer feels like someone mixed candyfloss into the ends when I brush (read:battle) it.

The moral of this story? Sweetheart really needs to have her hair cut with something approaching regularity.

And keep her mother away from the peroxide.




wwwiamasheep: (Default)
Once again, my punctuality issues get the better of me without me! 'Sweetheart: She Was Always Late' will be graven on my heart.

Supernatural is brilliant, but a word to the wise? Being in the dark and under your covers will only ramp up the batshit freakiness 'til you jump like a little girl.

There is no way in hell I'm getting to sleep tonight.
wwwiamasheep: (Default)
Muse Donna has decided that not only does she want a crossover with CSI:NY that coincides with her days in Fugitive Recovery and Don Flack in her bed, but she now wants me to engineer a child from that unholy mix.

She even made me create a time-line.

HALP.



(But on the plus side, The Un-Named Series now has a name. And it's a sekrit)

wwwiamasheep: (Default)
I have returned! Lay on the fatted calf, crack open the fruit juice, write the Prime Minister etc etc.

Suffice to say, it was madness. I ask you, who goes to Torquay in January? TO A PLACE WITH NO INTERNET? My family. Of course.

Day 1

Arrived in Torquay after stopping in Stockbridge for reasons known only to Gogo.

Seen apartment and promptly switched after batting our eyelashes like Scarlett O'Hara. New digs don't look like someone stole the decor from a nursing home, so improvement.

New apartment is situated in a different part of the hotel, and as consequence, I shan't be using the elevator, as it's all a bit Adddam's Family. The thing is barely an inch taller than me and I kid you not, it's carpeted on five sides. Thing looks like a coffin, for fucks sake! Gogo and Aunt, however, find it hilarious. You can hear them giggling their tiny arses off in the shaft.

Day 2

Debenhams. We come all the way to 'The English Riviera' (the sign lies, it lies like a bloody rug!)[IN JANUARY] and our sightseeing involved Debenhams. Three times. In three days.

Day 3

Visited Buckfast Abbey. Lovely, peaceful, very Catholic. I kept expecting some fierce, hatchet-faced Benedictine monk to loom out of the masonry and urge me to repent for all my fannish ogling and for bringing the two most un-religious members of my family (Nutty Anti-God Gogo and New Age Aunt) into it's hallowed halls. 
I am this close to pulling out my cross and St Christopher to show that I do believe, even if I'm Protestant when Gogo points to the screened off chapel reserved for quiet prayer and tells me in the loudest voice possible that there are some nuns in there praying so I should be quiet. I haven't spoken a single word since we entered the church.
We leave before Gogo can start informing the nuns that religion is bollocks.

Day 4

Spend the day reading and watching movies. Fun In Acapulco is genius, and why didn't I know about Elvis movies before? New Age Aunt has decided that my passing resemblance to Ursula Andress is enough of a reason to whistle the James Bond theme tune whenever I enter a room.

Day 5

I am not getting in the car with Gogo ever again. I don't care if I have to walk to Devon next time!

Day 6

Ahh, home at last, just in time for a root canal.

Ain't life sweet?





wwwiamasheep: (Default)
Caught an episode of CSI:NY season 7.

Good news: Adam is still awesome and Don Flack's hair is epic.

Bad news: That was it.
wwwiamasheep: (It's happy hour in New York.)
What's with the arriving to the fandom party to find you're so late the balloons have deflated? What the hell, self? I know you have punctuality issues, but seriously. This is getting ridiculous.

No love,
Fangirl

Uh-huh.

Jan. 9th, 2011 02:25 pm
wwwiamasheep: (Default)
Okay, so due to said sleeplessness, I forgot to check my email for the last few days.

...Damn thing legit screamed at mewhen I opened it.

wwwiamasheep: (Default)
Were it not for the fact that I'vee been awake for most of the last 48 hours, I would be willing to bet heavily that someone had taken a 2x4 to my skull.
wwwiamasheep: (About that...)
...I am not a therapist.

Solve your own damn problems.

Love,
Self

wwwiamasheep: (Writer's mantra)
OMFG TYPING.
...
...
*deep breath*
"IwillnotmurderthelaptopIwillnotcommitcomputercideIwillwringBillGates'scrawmyneckandstabhimwitharustyspork"

wwwiamasheep: (Default)
Ahhhh, Christmas! That magical time of year when you have to choose which parent to spend the holiday with, tip-toe around the guilt-tripped mine fields of conversation, deal with frankly bizarre family friends and keep your father from drinking himself into a stupor before lunch and thereby avoiding the homicide that would invariably occur when your stepmother goes after him with some sort of sharp cooking implement.

But all this pales in comparison, for I have MARSHMALLOW FLUFF, AWESOMELY STRIPEY FURRY SLIPPERS AND DID I MENTION I HAVE MARSHMALLOW FLUFF?

*GLEE*
wwwiamasheep: (Default)
IT'S SNOWING!

(I may or may not be whistling the entire soundtrack to 'White Christmas' and 'Holiday Inn' as I type)

God, I love snow!

What I love more? The British reaction, which roughly translates as OMGWTFBBQSNOWSNOWSNOWITSWHITEANDSNOWYSTOPEVERYTHINWEMUSTSTOPALLTHETHINGS!

Seriously, what other nation IN THE WORLD effectively shuts down until things un-freeze? Everyone else recognizes that yes, snow is cold, yes it makes driving slightly more interesting but as long as you have proper winter tyres and don't drive like the recently lobotomized, it isn't actually the end of the world.

But it does mean that I now have a valid reason to wear my jingle bell socks and hibernate under my duvet inbetween lobbing snowballs at unfortunate passers-by (read: my family).

Merry Christmas, folks.

'Oh the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful, since we've no place to go-o, let it snow, let it snow. let it snow...'
wwwiamasheep: (Default)
Every year come November 11th, I buy three poppies and stick a £10 note in the collecting tin. It occasionally gets me odd looks from my family, but I rather think I'll survive.

One poppy for Gallipoli veteran who never returned, one for an engineer in the Gulf and one for a veteran of the South African Border War.

These servicemen (because I shall be the first female soldier in my family) gave so much, and in the case of the Gallipoli poppy, he gave his life, and they deserve to be remembered and thanked from the bottom of our hearts for the time and the determination they have put into defending our way of life, securing freedom even for those who set alight Remembrance poppies during the Silence.
wwwiamasheep: (Default)
...Bloody Ewan McGregor.

Making me like Star Wars *grumble*. As if I didn't have enough geekery as it is, ohhhhh nooooooo, he had to go and make me investigate more!

Obi-Wan/ Padme, anyone?

*despairs*
wwwiamasheep: (Default)
Never use No. 7 eyeliner as body paint.

I will be blue in places for weeks.
wwwiamasheep: (Gummy Bears)
A kick-ass Virginia Judge has just ordered that bass-ackward, homophobic and neanderthal DADT rule and the enforcement therefore of to cease immediately .

Kinda makes you believe that maybe humanity as a collective isn't totally screwed.


Legislation! Dismissed! )


I may send flowers.
wwwiamasheep: (Default)
Granger Enchanted has stolen my BRAIN. It's currently ten past four in the morning, I have to be up in four hours and I'm still reading fanfiction.

Masochistic much, self?

Also? Sharing room with The Sister means putting my laptop under the covers.

I'm pretty sure I'm actually melting for real, in a sort of 'Nooooooo, I'm melllll-ting!' way.
wwwiamasheep: (Default)
Yesterday was Sweetheart's birthday.

You'll never guess where I spent it.

In The Royal Surrey with frigging appendicitis. That turned out to be a rumbling appendix.

So Sweetheart is now back at home full to her eyeteeth with opioid pain relief and hating trousers.

Bloody September.

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Sweetheart

December 2011

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