You thought it was an April Fool's post yesterday, didn't you? DIDN'T YOU?
Well. Now I will tell you something. Mr. Martin did speak, that is he wrote--
I mean, it totally wasn't a prank. Well, okay, it was a double prank. Because everything I wrote yesterday was true, every word of it, and you thought it WAS a prank, and it wasn't, so it WAS a prank in the end because the point was for you to think that it was a prank. Which it wasn't.
Somehow this reminds me of a scene from a movie...
"I am not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But you must have known I was not a great fool, you would have counted on it, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me."
It was all Melody's idea, by the way. But we chose to do it on my blog because I have more of a history with April Fool's pranks than she does. *cough* And therefore it would be more believable, coming from me. Which it totally was. *both giggle excessively*
Your comments amused us muchly, by the way. We may or may not have done evil hand rubs.
Anyways, April Fool's Day is over and we are all bound to the truth for another 364 days, and I swear on the grave of my father Domingo Montoya that Melody is actually, really and truly here beside me as I type this. We've been planning this visit for months, in point of fact, and simply decided not to tell anyone so that we could do this little prank. (Well, okay, we told a few trusted peeps but they were sworn to absolute secrecy.)
And all that stuff about period dramas and late nights and lots of tea? True, all of it. Besides which, we've been doing things like window-shopping and sightseeing in certain big cities and going to local theater productions (we saw Jane Eyre on Friday night and it was delightful) and of course tea, as aforementioned.
|*especially when accompanied by chocolate|
It's a delightful thing, it really is, to see one's best friend again after a painful eight months of separation... those of you whose best friends live nearby, do appreciate what you have. Cherish it and all that, because all the letters and emails and Skype calls in the world can't make up for having your very own Bestie Dearest beside you in real life. (And if you haven't seen Cranford, you'll probably be reading that and saying, "um, what.")
Okay, Melody, you say somewhat so they know you're flesh and blood and not a doll to be married under the table.
Your sister should perhaps be told the latter. Even if it is fictional characters... Melody Tilney sounds a bit odd.
Ah, yes, my matchmaking sisters... heh. We'll gloss over that bit. Anything else to tell the nice people? Do a queenly wave or something of the sort-- you don't get on my blog often enough for this to be an every-day, ordinary experience.
I shall do the Caroline Lee wave, in fact. :D
(That scene, btw? Our screams probably would have deafened you.)
Anyways. Hello, peasants. It's awfully fun to be on this side of Amy's blog posting, just sayin'. And of course I'm not trying to make you jealous. *smiles angelically*
We wish we'd filmed our reaction, by the bye, but we were not foresighted enough-- plus we were in a hurry to get out the door. It was priceless, anyways. Take our word for it.
We really ought to get going now, though, because there is so much time and so little to do-- wait, scratch that. Reverse it.