Well, my morning started off by cackling out loud at my desk as Wil's newfound Johnny Depp obession (the man has it bad) culminated in the playing of the 21 Jump Street theme. It was too much, and I lost it utterly.
Wil's right though, the man was looking damn hot, and somewhere in Johnny's attic there must be a painting that looks like Keith Richards :D
I don't normally watch the Oscars, but as everybody else was going to be doing it just fer once I went along with the mob, and besides, there was bugger else on and I was fiddling around with updates and backups and the like so I was too distracted to watch anything of merit, or even notice when Jude Law was on, if not for an Oi! from the peanut gallery.
I was pleased that LOTR cleaned up, but I felt some of the awards were better deserved by others, but that's the Oscars for you (especially as I found myself in more of an M&C mood than ROTK yesterday, despite giggling over cute hobbit pics ).
Note to self: Don't put pics from Velvet Goldmine into your Windows screensaver when you intend to drag the laptop near the phoneline, ie in the kitchen (hello, 1940s house), though Aged Parent swears she's seen Velvet Goldmine, which is a worry, because it's not the sort of film I'd put on for her veiwing pleasure, you know? Eeeep. Has Aged Parent mastered the dvd player? Surely not, the cranky auld luddite...
Anyways, precious little news otherwise. I uploaded those two new fics to the Sharpe page. Gracias. Mucho gracias.
I was also industrious very, very early this morning, while it was pitch black outside, scanning away, scans which were well received, fer once, so I am feeling gratified.
And Cycnus made me a Bodie icon! Perfect :D I am such a Bodie girl. Always have been and I suspect I always will be :D It's prolly why I love Jayne so much. He's like Bodie, only more so (and I never thought that was possible, proving that I can be mistaken).
Right. I've 10 pages worth of corrections to make on a site, ie, pretty much starting over from scratch, I've got a job application to write, or, as things are getting crampier and crampier, I could just make another cup of tea (why do I always have to write a job app during, you know, that time. It's due on Friday, the job app, not me whatsits, they're here. I am so screwed).
Good grief. The contractor is in and it isn't late evening, it's lunchtime. There is very heavy cloud cover however. I'm beginning to suspect contractor is a vampire.
Speaking of lunch, I popped out for a bit (yes, I know, horrors, well, too bad, because I'm officially no longer pre and I can't take the mellow yellows on an empty stomach any more, so there) and I stepped outside and it just smelt. It smelt like it was about to rain, which it did, and it's a nice smell, but that wasn't it. Work is only across the river from my high school, and it smelt, it smelt like history, memory, the way March afternoons are meant to smell. If that makes any sense.
I've decided that I shall go back to my habit of fooling around with my own pages in my down time. It keeps me out of mischief, it keeps my skills up to speed and I get to try out new things and they are so test pages because I just copy pasted a huge wad of code into a work page in a great case of "and here's one I prepared earlier". Fiddle, fiddle, new style sheet, and there she is. Magic. Yes, must re-do remains of site as a training exercise.
Ewan McGregor: Vogue January 2004 DE