Oh f**k.....

Has anyone ever turned up to like fix the washing machine or clean your windows while your in your pajamas? Well we're having a new fence done at the bottom of the garden, the rents aren't here, I'm in my tiniest PJs and there's a guy tearing out the old fence. Which is gonna equal squashed plants. Which is gonna equal me getting yelled at by the woman for not protecting said plants. WHY ME? WHY NOW? WHY?!!!!

Okay, moving on. I didn't like the Elfwood Mod's Choices yesterday but today they're purty. Though it makes me very jealous when I see all their beautiful pencil shading. *looks shifty and steals it* I was fighting with oil pastels last night for no apparent reason. I hate oil pastels, I've hated them with a fiery vengence since using them to copy Monet in Art in school. Yet every so often I see a picture by someone who CAN use pastels (Cornwall was full of them) and I get the urge to make a fool of myself. The mountains in the background turned out good, but the horses, trees and beach...... lost causes. Plus pastels make an unholy mess. Grrr. Evil pastels. On the plus side Lilly's dragon is about three petals away from completion then I'll just varnish it (the watercolour varnish is nifty; it makes things all shiny!) and it'll be done. Yey.

What in fuck's name.... someone I'd utterly forgotten about and isn't even a member of Planet Helen just posted a message telling me to phone them. *is floored* Where the fuck did that come from!Honestly. I don't know what to say know, it's completely thrown me off track. >_<

Merc, don't worry sweetie, it'll be fine. *hugs* It'll all be forgotten soon, or you'll look back and laugh. I'm hoping to send your letter today as I can get it weighed at the post office when I go to hand a form in.... no idea how long it'll take though. -_- *mumbles 'silly postal service'*

Myth is begging to be written. I may have to cave in. I spotted a mythological part for Tom you see and it's screaming "Write me! Write me!" *swats her Myth muses with a fly swatter*

I'm off to hide from the fencemen and write letters now. And possibly to beat up some of my muses. *hears outraged yells from them* Okay, maybe not.

Clo

*points at icon*

I've decided it's time to start using The Icons. if you've avoided spoilers this long you're either dead, living on Mars or have been locked in your room for the last three or four weeks.