What a day this has been...

What a rare mood I'm in,
Why it's -
Aaaaaalmost like beeeeeeeing in love!

Naw, I haven't been rewatching Brigadoon, actually. (Well, OK, we showed the houseguests various clips from recent shows and so Harry/Maggie & Funeral *were* among them, but....) For some reason, which I will not question too closely, today I've been feeling positively romantic. Not for anyone per se - nor yet with an ideal - nor yet with a character (the inimitable Jack Sparrow notwithstanding). But simply remembering what it is like to hug, to have one's hand held - engulfed - within a man's warm hand.

Good golly, I'm practically squishy! I'm certainly far past POMF and SNERK. And here type I, in a positively receptive "Willoughby!" mood - and no hero in a greatcoat in sight. No, not even one with a great many capes a la "da man" Henry Tilney. I am even benevolent towards the usually crimson-turning memories of Kurt. ("Ah! That's the one I forgot! God bless Kurt!") Indeed, *do* bless him, God. You are quite correct and those strange seven months were not without reason.

It's very pleasant to be in this mood, however. It's really very peaceful - rather like the comfort of just sitting before the tabernacle. Oy - I was *so* frustrated at God during Bearskin that He was physically present and yet wasn't - or at least in form that *I* could perceive. Anywho, as I said, I think I'll simply relish this unusual brush with rose-petal contentedness and let that carry me through...

...putting up the curtains in the doorway with my new (mine mine!) electric screwdriver! (Insert Tim the Toolman Taylor's happy grunting here.) And, as an added bonus, I purchased a shower curtain rod (still couldn't find the other - gave up) and so can happily attach the flowery shower curtain to said item. (Flowers and roses for everybody! Gah - what are you little birds twittering around my head for? Ah! Get out get OUT forest creatures! Y'know, sometimes it's simply NOT a good thing to be a dumpy looking Snow White.... And I'm not particularly sure that my *whistling* abilities - Quiddich theme anyone? - would do much to aid my work. Might scare the natives.)

Oh la! Lord Peter Wimsey's mother I am not! (Nor was meant to be? In the room the women come and go....) I shall flee before I indulge in more literature association games. Fa la! I love the Spring!

Mood: Tra la la la LA la LAAAAAAA!
Music: Whatever's currently on the radio
Quote: Willoughby! Willoughbyyyyyyyyyyyy! *thunk* *drip* *sniffle*