Last week was a wicked funny one. A few bad things happened.. one or two REALLY bad things happened.. but I don't want to dwell on them too much. The weather granted me my first sleep-over since I was... oooh, ten, maybe? And I learned to make French toast, a gift I put to use for the first time this morning. French toast is pretty nice.
My desire to go to the Wadsworth Atheneum is 'like a lust in my body.' No, seriously, I need to go (no obvious pun intended). My sister went on a trip there last Friday; I love that Museum so much I can barely describe it. It might just be the slightly battered regions of my psyche seeking refuge during this particularly abrasive time of year, because Christmas 2004 is the last time I visited. But I HAVE TO GO. My Father has told me we're going some time after Christmas but WHO IS TO SAY I CAN WAIT THAT LONG. I haven't hungered to this degree since returning to England and visiting Trafalgar Square/The National Gallery. I am so perversely protective of these places, I don't even like seeing other people in them. I just want them ALL TO MYSELF. Except friends: I love showing friends the things I like so I can begin discussion about them. It's pretty selfish, but there we go.
[Speaking of which, I managed to force-feed Girl with a Pearl Earring (the movie) to some of the people captive in my house on Wednesday. I'm not sure my audience like it particularly... luckily they saw Basic Instinct before hand, and so anything that followed was (by default) far more welcome. Greit was despised, but Vermeer went down well, which was good. And Catharina won the sympathy vote. Yay Catharina!!♥ She is so pretty.]
Likewise, I NEED TO SEE Gillette Castle. They've got it decorated for Christmas :) Hopefully I can force the family to attend. Mr. Gillette and his house are too hot for me to ignore.
Did you know Shelley's Grandfather was Born in New Jersey? Huh.
One of my Christmas presents is the Newly re-published Gray's Anatomy... it's one of these random volumes you really need to qualify as 'rich', and I bet is going to prove and interesting study. Sickert went through 6 copies of GA before his death, but I'll bet none were as fabulous as mine's going to be. I'd lend it to him, if only he'd come back to life and take his pants off. I mean, I'd share if he did.
*eyes sparkle momentarily*
Ok, enough perverse necrophilia. OFF