Torched Windows, Anger Management and Beheadings

What a weekend...

I made my first design mistake on the house...I attempted Ebony stain on our bay window...well, I don't know if it was my brain convincing me it wasn't so bad, with another coat it'll look great, but who was I kidding? I'd brush on the stain, wait as instructed, then wiped it off...

It looked like someone took a blowtorch to the frame.

It had sucked in and was BLACK in some spots while barely covered in others. How I got through half the window I don't know. Just the start to my weekend...

Life has been rather crazy with all the work on the house, but work had been kinda quiet, so it balanced out. That all changed when things got crazy with a rather large project that I'm backup on. Basically we had to turn around a draft of a large application between Thursday and midday today. My original weekend plans looked like this:

Friday night: clean up apartment for landlord to show on Saturday
Saturday: work at the house most of the day, work on application in evening
Sunday: King Richard's Faire and a well deserved break

The best laid plans of mice and men, right?

My real weekend played out like this:

Friday night:
Luckily I got out of work on time, and did get to clean the apartment while Sean did some work on the house.

Saturday:
Up bright and early to vacate the apartment, with London in tow, was very productive at the house, but waited and waited for phone call from work so I could get some editing out of the way that night so Sunday wouldn't be horrendous for my coworker. That call never came. That evening, my father in law took us out to dinner at Kyoto, this Japanese cook-in-front-of-you restaurant, which was a great time. I actually caught the food the chef flung in my mouth, first time for everything. We met a very interesting couple from Nepal who were put at our table. The guy bought us a round of Sake shots before we left. Highly needed, since I had just gotten off the phone with our friends, who decided that the weather for the next day was too risky to bring their two kids out in. Understandable, and we're planning on going next week instead, but this meant I would be getting drafted for work. Sure enough, we got back to the apartment around 11pm, I logged onto my work email and discovered that now the client wanted the draft soon enough to start reviewing first thing Monday! I sent my coworker a quick email alerting her to my availability and telling her to touch base in the morning. Then I crawled into bed for a decent night's sleep.

Sunday:
Sean headed off to the house to get started working, and, after a quick run to McDonalds for breakfast, I settled down on the couch, laptop in lap, to begin work. I decided that, since King Richard's Faire didn't happen, I'd get my dose of merry old England by catching up on the Tudors while I worked.

After about 7-8 episodes, I was still working away, and had a new appreciation for life today. I sometimes say I was born in the wrong century, but what I really long for is the dress, the furniture, and the architecture. I can do without the plagues, "bleeding" being modern medicine, and heavy seasonings to mask the taste of spoiled meat.

I loved how women dazzled in yards of beautiful fabric, and looked ready for a ball 24/7, the romance of wearing a chemise to bed (still determined to get my own), and how the corset was the ultimate bra (to you scorning ladies, I, being "curvy", appreciate good support). Even men cared about how they dressed. I loved the craftmanship and the details involved in the furniture and the architecture. No Ikeas, Walmarts, and "assemble your own" stuff that may or may not be sufficient for its purpose. There was a code of conduct (on the surface), and there's something so respectful about a bow or curtsy.

However, I grew to pity each and every woman on the show. Married men getting it on with every strange woman that attracted them in the least, and the women could do nothing but suffer. You pity Ann Boleyn, who started as one of those strange women, yet after she becomes queen and Henry's eye begins to roam once more you watch her jealousy grow to near madness. I know I'd probably behave the same way. You know where the end of her story leads and yet you sit, watching, praying that you could change history, or at least slap Henry. This last episode (the one before the finale) you watch four innocent men beheaded, not to mention earlier in the season when several men of the church, including Sir Thomas More, are killed. One thing I'll never understand is the number of people who came out to watch these beheadings for sport. And we say our generation is desensitized.

Meanwhile, in real life, I was wanting to behead my laptop (and would have, had I known where its head was). Microsoft Office thinks it's smarter than you, when in reality, it only creates more work. If it simply performed the task I wanted when I asked, things would be much more efficient. Instead, I ask it to restart the numbering in a style and it indents it! I did not ask for it to indent, did I? *sigh* Nine hours were spent fussing with documents in Word, and this project still has no foreseeable end.