Choices, choices

Truth be told I'm still on a bit of a karting high from Friday. And yes, that means I'm still suffering from the hardcore alpha-male tendencies that manifested during the race. I just finished watching season one of The OC and was willing Ryan to punch anything that moved.

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Friday night was supposed to be a delightful companion piece to my win earlier in the day. Willowc and I had found out about an Empire magazine film quiz being held at Borders in Kingston, and decided that we'd give it a whirl. After all, we both consider ourselves conniseurs of the finest that Hollywood has to offer (providing, of course, that there's some kind of science-fiction/fantasy element about it, and it was made post 1977). Upon arriving at Borders, however, we found a notice on the door saying that the quiz had been cancelled due to unforeseen circumstances. We both "humphed," and decided to head inside anyway to escape the cold and trawl the bookshelves for exciting things (or, in the case of Willowc, pick up exciting things and put them down randomly elsewhere in the shop).

We eventually headed to Starbucks, caught up properly over coffee, then headed our separate ways.

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On Saturday afternoon I decided to head back over to Kingston as Sparky Ma still wanted ideas for my birthday and I'd seen a pair of boots I liked so I thought I better try them on to gauge what size I might need if someone ended up getting them for me. The boots are *ohmygod* amazing, so much so that I seriously thought about buying them on the spot; I ended up putting them back on the shelf and hurrying out of the shop before I snapped, or just started hugging them.

Another reason for my quick jaunt to Kingston was that I needed some new hair … 'product.' I've been using the same stuff for the last couple of years, and usually pick up a new tub when I get my hair cut. For some reason, though, I decided to have a bit of a change (maybe because I don't plan on getting my haircut till the end of the month). I headed to Boots and ended up staring at the men's hair care range like a speshul. There's a bewildering array of choice these days - do I want cream, gel, putty, paste, mud, clay, or wax? I must've stood there for about five minutes randomly picking up different pots. 

I almost went for one brand because I liked the design of their tubs, but ended up going for another because it was a bigger pot, and was cheaper because it was on specshul. I mean special. The idea of putting mud in my hair was intriguing, too. As I was taught by Sparky Ma many moons ago I put the first one I picked up back on the shelf and reached for one from further back. I then paid for it, and went home. And do you know what? When I got home I opened it to find that some little shit's already stuck their finger in and taken out a big dollop.

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I freaked myself out a little bit on Saturday night. I'd had a bit of a weird dream earlier in the week and thought it would make a cracking little horror story, so I decided to write it out in script format as Grum had hinted to me recently that he wanted something new to illustrate. I started about midday, stopped, obviously, while I headed out to Kingston, and began writing it again at about nine p.m. 

I wanted to write the whole thing pretty quickly while it was still fresh in my mind; plus I've got other things that I want to start writing, and I didn't want it to drag on. That being the case I finished it at about … half 12? And then, for some reason, I decided to check in on the Phantom Planet website in the hope that maybe they might've announced some UK tour dates. Tour dates? No. Freakiest blog update ever? Yes.

I read that, freaked out a bit, and went straight to bed.

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Saw one of the funniest moments in Gilmore Girls so far the other day, and for some reason it made me think of T-Bird (in a nice way).

I love the look on those cats' faces.