Scarlet Sunday

So, my mother, over at goodinparts, is doing NaBloPoMo. She’s finding it difficult, but so far she seems to be succeeding. I, of course, am doing nothing of the sort. I’m not even doing my own beloved NaNoWriMo, because November is a really busy month, especially this year, but realising how much she’s been posting makes me realise just how little I update. Which is odd, since you’d think I’d revel in the opportunity for extra online procrastination. And I thought I’d break my bad habit by telling you about dressing up, and my spontaneous dressing-up day, which I’ve affectionately nicknamed Scarlet Sunday.

I love dressing up. Regardless of the occasion – if I have the chance to enclose myself in some costume or other then I’m usually quite a happy bunny. Indeed, I tend to assume most outfits have a mini costume in them... I certainly switch behaviour patterns with clothing choices. (And, having typed that, wondering if this makes me weird.) At the moment I’m most excited about scheming for my friend’s party – still almost a month away – where a large L is the central theme. Should I be obvious? Or abstract? A Lovecat? Lethargy? Little Miss Sunshine? Librarian? The choices are eternal, and huge amounts of fun. And the only option currently crossed out is Little Red Riding Hood, since she are quite prominent today.

Scarlet Sunday accidentally began at seven am. I’m not entirely sure why this was, but it may have had something to do with how much I was enjoying dreaming about publishing the Book of Doom. My subconscious is a hard taskmaster, and presumably suggested rising early to do a bit more editing. Bitch. Anyway, having woken up early my brain was feeling somewhat flaky. I took full advantage of this and went on a procrastination spree. And have a new favourite site: Gala Darling It is possible that she might be the single coolest person in the world, but after about an hour of revelling in her style I was quite ready to slip back into full Lucinda mode. Which, today, involved playing fairytales. My redder-than-red 70’s dress, NHS cloak and the prettiest heels I own. Sadly the big bad wolf didn’t come for me, but we all lived happily ever after anyway. At least until it rained, and I got soaked.



Pretty much the best part of my room only being half-in-place is the photos that can be taken with a full length mirror on the floor.






Unfortunately, it also makes reall full-length shots impossible - Sorry. I think I looked less triangular...





So, do you think I need a haircut yet?...

This is just to say...

Do you ever feel like William Carlos Williams might just have written a note? Like he didnt expect it to be fully analysed? No, me neither. He was testing everything, and that’s all well and good. However, this is just a note. And I haven’t been in your fridge. Yet...
I feel like I don’t really post here often enough. By which, of course, I mean that I actually don’t post here often enough. In my defence, however, I am chronically busy. I’m trying to sort out what I’m doing next year (English literature or creative writing? Who knows where the throw will land?), working on the dissertation from heaven (or perhaps Wales), editing the Book of Doom, rehearsing for Merchant of Venice and, um, planning a Shakespeare festival. Well, I’m nothing if not ambitious.
So this is all fantastic, but it leaves me very little time for updating. Which, in its turn, makes me feel exceptionally guilty. In response to this, I’m going to send you all away, to look at our sparkly writing website. www.kilvites.co.uk . I might even manage to get a bio up there one day soon...

*grabs her stuff and scurries off to rehearsal*