anogete: (richard)
( Jan. 4th, 2009 12:13 am)
So, you want a reason why you should watch the third season of BBC's Robin Hood program in a few months? Okay! You might want to sit down before you click the LJ cut. Don't say I didn't warn you.

guy )

Fuck. Me. I need a cold shower.
I finished Garth Nix's Sabriel a little over a week ago. After taking a pit stop to finish the next-to-last Sookie Stackhouse novel by Charlaine Harris, I picked up the novel (Lirael) that follows Sabriel. Anyway, this isn't really about that novel or the Charlaine Harris one. Okay, actually, I do have something to say about the Charlaine Harris one, but you might want to quit reading because spoilers are abound. So, I'm peeved that Quinn killed Andre. Completely and irrevocably irritated over that little fact. I really liked Andre. And I used to like Quinn until now. The bastard. Was anyone else sad to see Andre go?

Anyway, back to what I originally intended to post. Near the end of Sabriel, the main character's self-declared protector (and the only person left in the royal blood line) declares his love for Sabriel. How does he do it? By saying this:

"I love you... I hope you don't mind."

I've read a number of reviews of the novel, and a few of them mention this line or the relationship between Sabriel and Touchstone (odd name because he cannot remember his name). One girl said, "And his declaration of love for Sabriel is pretty much one of the funniest I've read this year. Oookay...I doubted that Romeo ever asked Juliet whether she minded at all. And sneaking into a lady's room in the middle of the night, tch tch."

Personally, I found the simple statement quite endearing and sweet, even romantic. Is this just me? Am I a sucker for the moment of insecurity when a character expresses his/her true feelings? As much as I latch on to strong-willed and confident characters, I love that little hint of hesitancy when it comes down to matters of the heart.

I finished the back to my knit v-neck tank. It's gorgeous, but I still have the front to tackle before I can post super awesome pictures of my super awesome cotton tank.

Oh! And there was a nice little write-up on Richard Armitage (my pretend boyfriend when Jason's not around) on Entertainment Weekly's website. The author even included a wonderful clip from Robin Hood, in which Guy (Richard Armitage's character) makes me swoon like no other. Gah. Just gah. His pants are conspiring to distract me from my life.
Following up on this entry, the first season of Robin Hood still hasn't finished downloading. My impatience is astounding.

I'm reading Le Morte D'Arthur, which I'm enjoying more than I had originally thought I would. However, is it possible, Sir Thomas Malory, to put a lid on the copious and extensive discussions of who exactly knocked whom off his horse, and who then who re-horsed that fellow?

The receptionist is the most annoying person in the world. She makes my eye twitch. It isn't that she's a bad employee or difficult to get along with. My problem is that she is so needy. So needy. She asks me if she can help me three to four times a day, which is pretty ridiculous and excessive. When she has a doctor appointment, she tells me about it fifteen times, and then gives me a frickin' schedule of when she plans to leave, how long it will take her to get there, and when she will expect to return. Appreciated and all, but I have other shit to attend to, and my world does not revolve around your multiple doctor appointments. She's a sickly one. Actually, she's not very sickly, but she loves to make a fuss over little things. Payroll Girl is gone this morning, and that means all the pressure is on me to appease Miss Receptionist. And I'm just really not in the mood today. I'm actually going out of my way to avoid her. I need to go fax a couple things downstairs, but I'm putting it off because she's down there, and I'd have to walk by her desk.

award nominations for moi? )
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