For one of my birthday presents I got something I can only describe as my 'super special Sephy coat!' It's long, very long... black... and has a series of three clasps around the stomach that make it very fitted. It has the exact sort of feel to it as Sephiroth's coat, slight militant edge and all. (Except its not made from leather - its a very heavy twill with matt PVC accents.) And its way way cool.

I plan to get some minor alterations made to it in the forearm areas because they're too loose for my tastes. I'd like them to get tightened up and it ought to be a straightforward change. I've also decided I would like to get a pair of heavy leather wristbands to wear on top of it to cinch the wrist area that much more since I have such tiny wrists. But this has caused one of those moments of utter indecision I am so well known for.

What type of wristband? Black leather is a must. Adjustable buckles on the underside is a must. But from there? I'm leaning towards something wider than average, but its not an absolute requirement. And then what? Should I get something strappy? How about D-rings? Or should it be one of those that has the gleaming metal plate riveted to an underlying leather band? I think that one would be the most faithful, but the others would suit just as well. If it weren't so expensive I'd be tempted to get all the ones I like and just switch them around as I feel like it.

Mmmm, when I get back home to the UK, I need to remember to afix my silver Shinra pin to one of the lapels.

Update: Found pair of 3" wide black leather cuffs with both straps/buckles and four subtle O-ring accents. Actively seeking metal plate variety.

I had a pretty good day by most accounts. It turned out to be a beautiful sunny day after a week's worth of rainy ones. A truly lovely day and a perfect day for making good on a long standing threat.

Ever since I matched together the pieces of this one particular kimono ensemble and knew I would be coming to the US to visit with friends and family, I had threatened my friend Shannon that I would take her out to a Japanese dinner and that I would get all dressed up. (Since I know how to do so theoretically if not completely in practice.)

I don't think she believed me. And the dinner kept getting pushed back this week due to bad weather or an accompanying friend not wishing to do Japanese. But as I said - today was the perfect day to go through with my threat. So it was that by the time she called me at the end of her work day and showed up at the house twenty minutes later, I was almost done dressing in complete traditional Japanese attire. I had even put my hair up, which isn't something I'd done before. Ever.

As we were about to step into the restaurant, she laughed and wondered what the people there would be thinking about me, playing dress up. I think she was embarassed. (O ye of little faith.) I laughed as well and jokingly said that maybe they would think I was visiting from Japan. I didn't actually believe that for one second but I got more then one bow from the waitstaff (after a moment or two of gawking.) And as we were led to our hibachi table, one of the women began to speak directly to me in Japanese! (I apologized of course and explained that I do not know more then a smattering of words.)

But then, of all things, a few minutes later another woman came out of the woodwork and started to poke and prod me! She even took a look at the sleeve of my underkimono which sits inside the main layer's sleeve. I was half-expecting her to check my teeth! In the end, I didn't mind getting such an inspection however, since I guess it meant that my dressing job had been worth a closer look. I think she very much liked my choice of kimono and obi.

Dinner itself was quite nice (not as good as the Buzz Bar in York, I hasten to add) and I finished it off by having a third glass of plum wine for dessert. I was wonderfully fuzzy by the time it came to leave the restaurant and I got the impression that the waiters who had tended to me thought it was cute how much I had had to drink. Which I guess it was. That and my riceball bag hanging from my hands before me instead of something more traditional.

I've decided that I'm cute. I'm so cute I want to keep me for myself.

I was slowly approaching cuteness over the past six months or so, what with the acquisition of a riceball-shaped bag to wear on my back, accented by pins of Yuki and Kyo from Fruits Basket. And the splash of other Japanese character culture things like Pokemon (Eevee, of course), Hello Kitty, and Nyan Nyan Nyanko. Even the fact I have a Shinra Co. silver card case and a Slytherin keychain is cute. And of course, we can't forget the black 'alternative' clothing I wear along with all this.

But yesterday I think I reached the first level of true cuteness. A red fleece beanie hat with giant fox ears sticking up from it. And long black straps that fall to either side of my face and that will soon have giant red pompoms hanging from them like balls of fox fire.

Only problem is I've already been called a 'kitty'. I'm NOT a kitty, damnit!

But I am very cute.

... is one that isn't a joke at all, or the very least an unintentional "misunderstanding."

I haven't wanted to say anything for fear of jinxing the whole deal, but Philip and I found a house in a small, very picturesque village vaguely near Leeds. To be more specific its an end-of-terrace - not perfect, but very nice. I figure given whats happened today, the chance of jinxing it is more or less a silly idea at this point anyway. We had our offer accepted and we're in the middle of getting a mortgage. We'd gotten a couple of nice shiny pieces of paper from various places stating how much we could get a house for, even taking into account our current credit card debts. So it seemed to all be going well, except that it takes quite a long time for these things to come through.

And then our independant mortgage advisor called. Philip is out of town today, so I told the gentleman he could catch him on the cellphone. A few minutes later Philip calls me telling me that the advisor said our mortgage application had been denied because of our credit card bills. Despite the fact that cost of the house is significantly less then what we'd been told we could afford. Not much to do but start crying and losing hair. I tried to remain rational about it. There are lots of mortgage companies and they're all desperate for business. The only question for me was whether or not we would end up missing out on the house we found.

A half-hour later, Philip gives me another call. Apparently the mortgage advisor checked into it, since I imagine he was as confused as we were about why the company denied it, only to find out they had been using the wrong set of figures. And that they need us to provide them another particular piece of paper that is floating around our current place somewhere. Um, yeah. Hopefully we'll actually be able to find said piece of paper.

So I hope this whole incident is my April Fool's joke of the day. Not that it was very funny and not that it didn't probably make me lose a year or two off my life. I can't imagine how Philip felt as I'm usually much better at coping with these sort of things. Who invented this day anyways?