Bummer, dude.

So. Here I am, at home. Edward Scizzorhands has been on for nearly an hour and I'm not there. Hubs was really ill with a mystery bug this morning - couldn't even get ready to go out, let alone take a train to Smokey and go to a play. He's still only just holding water down. V annoying, since it was too late to transfer the tickets to next week. He's hopefully going to get more tickets for another time. Hopefully. Extra annoying because a load of our friends are meeting in London today, so we were going to try to meet them after the show.

Ho well. Such is life. So, it's a weekend of enforced quietness. Will prob do some more writing or something.

*sigh*

Oh, By The Way - you remember when I ordered you all to watch Mrs Henderson Presents? You must also watch Brokeback Mountain. Very, very good. Beautiful film, beautiful scenery, great acting, two pretty boys rolling around in the sheep snogging each other. Hooray! Does, however, include possibly the least arousing sex scene I've ever seen. Evidently, these boys have never heard of foreplay.

Oh My Fucking God!

We're only going to the Film BAFTAs!!!

It cost a whole heap of Moolah, and even then it wasn't a sure thing, but we thought, Hell, we'll do it, just the once. And, yay! We got tickets!

I need a frock...

How very glam!