girlofprey

Went out for a fancy meal today, to celebrate my upcoming 21st. The fact it was Mother's Day was also a happy coincidence. I totally remembered to buy my mother a card and gift. Go me. After last night's crazy hour-theft I kind of forgot to get up more than 2 hours before we were due at the restaurant. Also I realised I'd forgotten to have any kind of outfit picked out to wear. Or in my wardrobe at all. However, a clean pair of jeans, nice top and mother's necklace later I was good to go. We picked up my grandmother, who off-handedly suggested she wouldn't live to see my next birthday, but not my sister and her father's baby - they decided to walk, and were half an hour late (as usual). And when they arrived, the combination of Jack being tired, being in a new place full of strangers and strange electro-sap music, and no-one coming to make a fuss of him because they were all so full of cold, meant he cried and screamed his way through the first 15 minutes, before throwing a bunch of things on the floor then falling asleep in his high-chair. But it was a nice meal, and a nice day, regardless. I remembered the restaurant was where I'd come for a reception to a wedding I was bridesmaid for when I was four. And apparently was a complete terror, and ran away, and ruined my loaned dress running around trees, and refused to do anymore wedding photographs after the first 400. Happy days. I was mostly left to my usual morbid sentimental thoughts about how I'd never be that young again, and couldn't really remember being that young now. And that by tomorrow morning, I'll have outlived my dad's younger brother. C'est la vie. The fact the beautiful view from the restaurant included the local crematorium probably didn't help with this.

Happy Mother's Day, by the way. To all mothers and mother-equivalents on my flist.

It turned out sister, as well as getting me the Goblet of Fire DVD, got me Kiss Kiss Bang Bang as well - which I got last week because it was £12.99 (cheaper than Amazon!) in Sainsbury's. And the receipt's in Nottingham. Whoops.

Anyway. Tomorrow we will apparently be celebrating my birthday with the amazing outing of Going To The Supermarket/Town. And picking me out a nice diamond necklace from the local Argos. Not that I'm complaining. I could probably do with calling my best friend from home, and maybe going out for a drink. The other best friend is going to France for two weeks - cheek of her! I plan to convert her to The Mighty Boosh when she gets back. Unless it turns out she's already converted. In which case I will just weep with joy.

Discovery of the day: There is an Emmerdale Message Board. Complete with character wars and wank. I still can't quite believe it. But apparently ( Spoilers )

And someone has actually written fanfiction including Matthew/Carl. Except that it makes my eyes burn to read it. And this is what I mean about slash being 'emotional porn', at least partly, because I don't consider this slash. Not even with all the gay sex and 8 and half inch cocks. This isn't even badfic, with the 'golden demi-god swooning into the arms of his cerulean-eyed lover, !11'. It's not even pretending to have characterisation. It's just porn. And that's where I draw the line, I suppose. Though other people will probably disagree.