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So This Is Christmas...
Dec. 26th, 2006 09:29 pm...and to be fair, I haven't done a lot.
My microcask of Festivity took longer than I expected to settle, mainly due to the fact that I came downstairs the morning after I left it in place to find I'd forgotten to open the top. This left me needing to drink it over the course of two nights. Damn shame.
Emma furnished me with a beautifully self-decorated big bowlish plate from the shop on Walcot Street that does them, that will easily hold as much curry or pasta as I could ever want to cook myself. *Sighs in happiness at wonderfulness of girlfriend*
Emma also furnished me with a cookbook and a potato peeler. *Peers inquisitively at girlfriend*
Other gifts included garlic infused olive oil, Revek-coloured gloves and material for his cape with an IOU for sewing work once mum is less busy, brandy, a black silk dinner scarf and a hat that matches my blue coat. I'm going to walk into work tomorrow in a crombie and hat, with a rolled umbrella and a pair of shades (in addition to a regular compliment of clothes to ensure lack of embarrassment or arrest). Others call this posing. I call it taking pride in my job. Large chunk of presents comprised money - always useful, and coupled with my paycheck arriving at the end of the month, meaning I can pay Elizabeth the six hundred and fifty pounds I owe her come January the first.
My housing benefit has arrived, and is of the value I had hoped for (the entirety of my rent for the unemployed period). Received, December the twenty-sixth. Claimed, October the sixth. Total wait, eighty-one days. Official complaint, pending.
Emma was happy with what I got her, though compared to something so wonderfully sentimental and personal with hand-painted hearts all over it, a new mp3 player seemed rather cold. It was even in black. I could have at least got it in pink (available). Mum was very pleased with the day of relaxation promised by an aromatherapy massage and brine session at the Brine Baths. They're pretty famous for excellent service - it's the reason Droitwich Spa is so named, after all. Dad's whisky went down a treat. If any Islay fans get a chance to try Ardbeg Uigeadail, I think they might like it - smoother and easier drinking than the standard Ardbeg, despite being in the high fifties for alcohol content. Definitely a good winter warmer.
Is it arrogant, or fine, to fanfic your own characters? Yes, that question has a point. No, it's not intended to express feelings one way or another on the subject. I don't currently have any.
My microcask of Festivity took longer than I expected to settle, mainly due to the fact that I came downstairs the morning after I left it in place to find I'd forgotten to open the top. This left me needing to drink it over the course of two nights. Damn shame.
Emma furnished me with a beautifully self-decorated big bowlish plate from the shop on Walcot Street that does them, that will easily hold as much curry or pasta as I could ever want to cook myself. *Sighs in happiness at wonderfulness of girlfriend*
Emma also furnished me with a cookbook and a potato peeler. *Peers inquisitively at girlfriend*
Other gifts included garlic infused olive oil, Revek-coloured gloves and material for his cape with an IOU for sewing work once mum is less busy, brandy, a black silk dinner scarf and a hat that matches my blue coat. I'm going to walk into work tomorrow in a crombie and hat, with a rolled umbrella and a pair of shades (in addition to a regular compliment of clothes to ensure lack of embarrassment or arrest). Others call this posing. I call it taking pride in my job. Large chunk of presents comprised money - always useful, and coupled with my paycheck arriving at the end of the month, meaning I can pay Elizabeth the six hundred and fifty pounds I owe her come January the first.
My housing benefit has arrived, and is of the value I had hoped for (the entirety of my rent for the unemployed period). Received, December the twenty-sixth. Claimed, October the sixth. Total wait, eighty-one days. Official complaint, pending.
Emma was happy with what I got her, though compared to something so wonderfully sentimental and personal with hand-painted hearts all over it, a new mp3 player seemed rather cold. It was even in black. I could have at least got it in pink (available). Mum was very pleased with the day of relaxation promised by an aromatherapy massage and brine session at the Brine Baths. They're pretty famous for excellent service - it's the reason Droitwich Spa is so named, after all. Dad's whisky went down a treat. If any Islay fans get a chance to try Ardbeg Uigeadail, I think they might like it - smoother and easier drinking than the standard Ardbeg, despite being in the high fifties for alcohol content. Definitely a good winter warmer.
Is it arrogant, or fine, to fanfic your own characters? Yes, that question has a point. No, it's not intended to express feelings one way or another on the subject. I don't currently have any.
