ontology: (Default)
I did something mad and impulsive Saturday and it did not go horribly wrong. I am still reeling from this a bit.

Hark you, Things You Should Know About Banui, Item #178 states quite clearly that I am not impulsive: I am paranoid. My impulsive gestures run no stronger or more daring than running outside and dancing round when it rains, taking impromptu walks, or baking or taking a bath at one in the morning. I am constantly afraid of What Could And Probably Will Go Wrong; therefore I avoid it altogether by not doing the impulsive thing that might lead to it. (This is, incidentally, a likely reason I am terrible with people.)


Hopefully this will mark the beginning of a new pattern. I really don't want to die alone, you know.

(And! A happy birthday many times over to the thoroughly magnificent [profile] lady_moriel! ♥ ♥ ♥ ) 
ontology: (Default)
I. This is probably the most newsworthy, so I'll get it out now because I am feeling charitable and won't leave you lot hanging in suspense: THE BABY IS A GIRL. !!! Mum had an ultrasound...er, several days ago...and it was, according to her and the doctor, very obvious. I...actually forgot to post about this, which is really rotten and scatterbrained of me, but I didn't get on until late that day, and I posted it on my Xanga, and...here, have a whole barrel of excuses; they're on sale today. Anyway, we are quite excited (except Timmy, who was hoping for a brother to even out the pack, but he's coming around), and Mum and I are already having to resist buying cute baby clothes.

II. Our wee kitten's got a name at last, six days after we got him! The trouble was that Dad and the rest of us couldn't agree on a name, and the poor kitten got called 'kitten' for days until Heidi suggested 'Bartholomew', inspired by the Doctor Seuss books Dad had got out for her recently (Bartholomew and the Oobleck; The 500 Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins). I like having a long name for a wee kitty, and somehow it suits him, although we may take to calling him Black Bart as well. (And, you know, we could call him Barty, too, which by a long, long stretch of imagination, logic, and fangirlishness could end up as Ten. Which...has just proved me The Ultimate Fangirl, as I am fangirling for a fandom I'm...not technically in, due to variables I can't, unfortunately, control. I'm going to go hide somewhere now.)

III. On the way out of Goodwill this evening, I spotted a man walking a VERY LARGE BLACK DOG. Sirusly Seriously, it was massive. Says Mum: "Oh, that looks like a Newfoundland." Says I: "OMG IT'S SIRIUS. I TOLD YOU HE LIVES IN OUR TOWN." Mum is oddly silent and not leaping jubilantly or attempting to knock the man down and make a run with the dog.

IV. While in Goodwill (a new one to us in a town we happened to be near), I finally found my winter coat. I have a lovely brown tweed dress coat that is simply crying out for a fierce black umbrella, but I can't wear it out all the time (I nearly ruined it bicycling down the highway on a rainy day; the back was horribly mudspattered and we had to take it to the drycleaners', which was when, um, we sort of totalled the car), and it's bedimmed hard to find a nice short coat. I was looking for a pea coat, but this one was just as lovely. (Yes, I look...ill and disgruntled and sort of mentally questionable in these photographs; they were taken with the ruddy flash on.) Also, the scarf? Was once owned by Sirius Black. You know it. (Can't you see him wearing it while motorbiking through the sky?)

V. I might as well get the clothingspam over with, so, um, here are photograph of me gadding about in a couple of dresses, and looking very much as though I need a shower. (Which I did. I took one afterwards.) Here I am in this rose-covered thing that I would wear to a holiday party if I...had a holiday party to go to. Here is this vintage thing with awesome buttons. And here I am in my pathetic go at dressing conservatively (we went to a different church on Sunday, and I was instructed not to worry anyone with lurid colours, striped stockings, or other things that might jump out as Really, Really Odd). Yes, the preening is on purpose. It's a foppish sort of outfit (or foppish vampire, which was what I looked like the last time I wore it, I think). How is this conservative, you may ask? Well, the colours are vivid but subtle (if you can't tell, the jacket is dark sage and the skirt is royal purple and the boots you can't see are burgundy), and...I'm not wearing the hat.

Going to bed now, I promise.
ontology: (Default)
I. So, [livejournal.com profile] lady_moriel and I were on the phone until twelve-thirty last night, which was basically The Best Thing Ever, except I woke my mum up because I was shut up in my closet for no good reason. (It's kind of cosy in there. Besides, Remus lives there. With his random piles of Time and various newspapers and books he keeps nicking off my shelves, and our vintage Life magazines from the seventies and eighties, and a lot of sandwiches.) Also, we made up the Best ScarletWoman!Ginny Fic Ever, which involves Antarctica and Random Hot Scientists and transfigured penguins and Dead Unimportant People and Molly's Amazing Clock of Eerie Accuracy. (CLOCK: [hand points to SHAGGING RANDOM STRANGER]. MOLLY: Must--go--to--Antarctica!) Also, Sirius uses netspeak specifically to irritate Remus (until he gets bored with typing funnily and finds something else), and we both read the Pony Pals when we were young and were probably vaguely ashamed of it even then. Heeee. AND! We are going to picket for Werewolf Rights!!(P.S.: Il Divo was on instead of Monty Python. AAAACK. *woe* I NEED MY FIX NOW.)

II. I am such a girl. Even without meaning to be, which is, I think, almost worse. Case in point: Saturday, my boots, blouse, and nail varnish all matched. (The varnish, which I found in my closet, is part of my semi-annual attempt to Not Bite Nails. Instead, I peel the stuff off with my teeth.) ERU SAVE ME. (I got really killer red boots for four bucks on Friday, though. The heels sink into the ground when I walk, which feels springy and weird and sort of awesome in a bizarre kind of way. And I got a purple floor-length skirt and something that looks kind of like an English riding jacket.)

III. I'm writing Eagle of the Ninth fanfiction. This is kind of scaring me (not least because I have the utmost reverence for Rosemary Sutcliffe). Is anyone else cool enough to even know what I'm talking about? :D Also, I had to do Wikipedia research for a passing mention in a vignette, wherein I discovered I got something wrong. Ack, historical fanfiction.

IV. L.M. Montgomery is pretty much the literary equivalent of mint and chocolate right now. *fangirls* Yes, I'm on a kick. Even though the first and third Emily books vanished mysteriously from the library two years ago. *cries* Also, I think I might be a Dean Priest fangirl. This is REALLY TERRIFYING.

V. Because I was talking to [livejournal.com profile] lady_moriel basically all night and watched a movie with the family last night, my internet usage has been disgustingly patchy. Am still working on comments & things.

VI. DO NOT SCOLD ME ABOUT THE TIME.

VII: It's Christmastime! I am so absolutely enchanted by this; I must dedicate an entry to it soon.

VIII: I STILL HAVE A PRIDE & PREJUDICE MOODTHEME. *squee*

VIIII: Shut up, I am going to bed. Also, I have a sinking feeling that I am getting the Roman numerals wrong.
ontology: (Default)
D'you know, I had all of this sitting in my Photobucket for three days? I really am a lazy git. Anyway, onto the photographs! And the completely random memories accompanying them.

Banui Herself, with fringe, looking generally uncombed. Really, I have no idea why my hair suddenly decided to manifest itself as if it had got into a long, nasty battle inside the toaster.


And now I must go to bed.
ontology: (Default)
So, one of the first things I discovered in Alyssa's family's house has been sending me into fits of geeky squeeishness.

They own what is apparently a first edition copy of T.S. Eliot's Four Quartets (published in 1943, I believe; somewhere around there, at least). Tucked inside of it are typewritten copies of 'Rhapsody on a Windy Night', 'The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock', and 'Gerontion'. Typewritten. Held together with a paper clip so old it's made grooves in the yellowing paper. I've been sporadically reading the poems since I got here whenever I have a moment in which I don't really have much else to do (which isn't often, as Alyssa and I are gadding about with cameras and costumes and occasionally our sisters).

Today, Mrs. H took us (Mum, Heidi, Alyssa, her sister Laura, and I) to the consignment shop, which as far as I can tell is like a thrift shop, with more vintage and antique items: I noticed a great deal of wonderful parlour chairs, the cloth-covered sort, with which I would love very much to furnish a home, or a dorm room. There was an exquisite vintage typewriter for only fifty dollars, and I very seriously considered buying it, but decided that if I really want a laptop and an iPod, both of which would be much more practical, I need to be a bit more sparing with large purchases such as that. I did, however, buy a wooden handbag with a nineteen twenties look to it, a soft, red-brown 'authentic velour' hat, which could fit into several eras and looks rather pleasant with my nineteen thirties dress, and--most exciting of all--a nineteen twenties flapper hat, dangling beads and all. Alyssa and I are going to take photographs of them as soon as possible, and you lot can see them when I get home. I'm completely thrilled: I adore hats madly, and it is very difficult to find them in this day and age.

We also dropped into Starbucks, which I have dearly missed, and my beloved vanilla bean creme frappuchino and I were reuniited. (Starbucks smells glorious, by the way.)

In further news, Pride & Prejudice is my new(est) favourite film. It is so beautiful that I was very nearly aching, and I must get a hold of the soundtrack as soon as possible. Amusingly, Mr. Darcy reminded me of fandom Snape, especially with his proficiency for black (and mmm, tailcoat! *drool*), and I kept expecting Lizzie to hiss fiercely, "That overgrown bat!" But oh, how lovely it was, and I must find icons immediately. Cinematography = so much love.

September 2009

S M T W T F S
  12 3 45
6 789 101112
13 141516 17 1819
20 21 2223242526
27 282930   

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jun. 19th, 2025 07:03 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios