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ysobelleI actually, kid-you-not, got out of the house for a few hours yesterday, thanks to the wonderful, fabulous, miraculous ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
snugglyevil, bless her shiny, saviour's soul. My funds are, of course, excruciatingly limited, but we got dinner, then window-shopped a bit in Pier One. I have many, many ideas for candles and sun umbrellas and...oh, you name it. I also discovered my shoes had worn COMPLETELY through, and I felt like a Dickensian orphan. We sang Kelly's "Shoes" to each other, and went on a whirlwind tour. I got a lovely pair of pointy-toed satin and beadwork slingbacks, which sound completely impractical. Which, yes, they are-- except that my parents' 50th anniversary dinner is Saturday at the League, so I have to look presentable, according to my mother. I DID find a nice pair of everyday flats which were so comfy, I tried them on, marched the empty box up to the register, paid for them, and had them trash my old shoes on the spot. (There was also much singing of zombie songs in general, like "Re: Your Brains," along with "Code Monkey" and "Creepy Doll." So yeah. It was a Jonathan Coulton day, and I blame snipeyhead for starting it.)
I got to a Filene's Basement for the first time in, oh, ten years, at least. Sadly, I hadn't missed anything. Except, it seems, an assload of ugly clothing. I swear to G-d, there isn't ANYTHING out there that isn't Sarah-Jessica-Parker/knee length. I don't like knee-length. I found nothing. I tried on armloads of stuff at Marshall's, and found one $15 sweater I might be able to pair with a formal skirt for a nice outfit. Might. Sigh.
We rounded out the evening with Coldstone, which I am sad to say I couldn't finish, after I spent a few bucks on my new best friend, Style 1900 Magazine. Thanks,snugglyevil, for living up to your subtitle: Enabler of Evil. No, really-- thanks. I want everything in this damned magazine. I can see the bottom line of my eventual shop going up and up and up. Not that I WOULD put in a handmade Art Nouveau vine-covered bronze door handle-- I'd NEVER get that money back if I ever sell-- but I WANT to. Waaaaant....
We came back here and watched "Meet The Robinsons." Cute movie, but I see why it got such mixed reviews. And then, of course, one of the cats had to knock over a full cup of orange juice, right next to my sewing machine. Rah. I still gave them catnip and got them stoned before bedtime. Which was only four hours ago, so...naptime for me. Just being out a few hours exhausted me, as did the insanely weird-ass dreams I've been having lately. (This time involvedfondor completely going off on me. Whimper.)
Two more Doctor Who episodes, and I'll be done with new Season One. Woot!
snugglyevil, bless her shiny, saviour's soul. My funds are, of course, excruciatingly limited, but we got dinner, then window-shopped a bit in Pier One. I have many, many ideas for candles and sun umbrellas and...oh, you name it. I also discovered my shoes had worn COMPLETELY through, and I felt like a Dickensian orphan. We sang Kelly's "Shoes" to each other, and went on a whirlwind tour. I got a lovely pair of pointy-toed satin and beadwork slingbacks, which sound completely impractical. Which, yes, they are-- except that my parents' 50th anniversary dinner is Saturday at the League, so I have to look presentable, according to my mother. I DID find a nice pair of everyday flats which were so comfy, I tried them on, marched the empty box up to the register, paid for them, and had them trash my old shoes on the spot. (There was also much singing of zombie songs in general, like "Re: Your Brains," along with "Code Monkey" and "Creepy Doll." So yeah. It was a Jonathan Coulton day, and I blame snipeyhead for starting it.)I got to a Filene's Basement for the first time in, oh, ten years, at least. Sadly, I hadn't missed anything. Except, it seems, an assload of ugly clothing. I swear to G-d, there isn't ANYTHING out there that isn't Sarah-Jessica-Parker/knee length. I don't like knee-length. I found nothing. I tried on armloads of stuff at Marshall's, and found one $15 sweater I might be able to pair with a formal skirt for a nice outfit. Might. Sigh.
We rounded out the evening with Coldstone, which I am sad to say I couldn't finish, after I spent a few bucks on my new best friend, Style 1900 Magazine. Thanks,
snugglyevil, for living up to your subtitle: Enabler of Evil. No, really-- thanks. I want everything in this damned magazine. I can see the bottom line of my eventual shop going up and up and up. Not that I WOULD put in a handmade Art Nouveau vine-covered bronze door handle-- I'd NEVER get that money back if I ever sell-- but I WANT to. Waaaaant....We came back here and watched "Meet The Robinsons." Cute movie, but I see why it got such mixed reviews. And then, of course, one of the cats had to knock over a full cup of orange juice, right next to my sewing machine. Rah. I still gave them catnip and got them stoned before bedtime. Which was only four hours ago, so...naptime for me. Just being out a few hours exhausted me, as did the insanely weird-ass dreams I've been having lately. (This time involved
fondor completely going off on me. Whimper.)Two more Doctor Who episodes, and I'll be done with new Season One. Woot!
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no subject
Date: 2008-06-16 02:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-16 10:18 pm (UTC)I'd never do that to you! But I do agree, an odd dream. I promise not utter a cross word when I see you next!