- Christmas was great.
- Work continues to suck.
- I saw a fabulous version of the Robin Hood legend at the RSC this January - and it was all about Marion. Robin had the "steal from the rich" bit down, but the "and give to the poor" was all Marion. Plus the staging was amazing. The whole stage, from about halfway back, was one giant, grassy slide, right up into the rafters! People slid onto stage - ouch - and had to climb back up with ropes! It's the most athletic play I've ever seen.
- Castle! I have burned through all the seasons currently available, and now impatiently await more of season 4. I have no patience for open canon shows. I want it ALL, NOW. Will they/won't they? (Oh, they totally will.)
- I finally read all the Tiffany Aching / Wee Free Men books, by Pterry. *happy sigh*. In possibly related news, I've not gone to sleep before 2am for most of the nights this week. I. am. so. tired.
- I'm thinking of trying to run a 10k this year.
- Kat continues to be adorable, although I do wish she'd stop eating her toys.
ION, I'm finally conceding that I don't like some taste combinations that are generally considered delicious. Coffee and chocolate, for example. I like coffee, I love chocolate, but together? Yuck. Ditto fruit and chocolate - I just don't really like them combined. I feel that togetherness makes them less than the sum of their parts - it takes away from the freshness of the fruit, and the richness of the chocolate. And yet it always seems to be, "What could be better than fresh strawberries? How about STRAWBERRIES DIPPED IN MELTED CHOCOLATE!" Give me my strawberries unadulterated, and my melted chocolate with a big spoon, pls. Also, baked potato and baked beans is just wrong, I don't care what people say.
ETA: ( The Heart of Robin Hood. )
( Sadly, I can't seem to find Kindle editions of Tamora Pierce's books... )
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Oh, Russian spambots, pls to be leaving me alone. Don't think I can't see your hidden html. What is the point of the white dot with the link to a sex site (I presume; I've not clicked on it)? I honestly don't geddit.
Do you read to go to sleep? I've never managed it, but it seems like most people do. I can't allow myself to read at bedtime any more, because I can't stop. Time vanishes. I have no willpower. It's partly that I'm a night-owl - but even when I want to go to sleep, when I'm really tired and my eyelids are heavy, my eyes are gritty, if I pick up a book, I feel compelled to stay awake and keep reading, fighting sleep all the way. I know that, if I try to put it down, my mind won't shut off - it's generally the only time I'm insomniac - so I might as well just stay awake and keep going. Eventually, I realised that I had to make a choice between reading at night and functioning at work. Sometimes I lapse (damn you, Hundred-Thousand Kingdoms), but mostly the latter is the only real option.
As well as the old and decrepit and the looked-better-on-the-hangar, I'm letting go of all those if-I-just-drop-a-couple-of-dress-sizes clothes. Well, except for one - I let myself keep one: a blue flower print dress, embroidered with unicorns and lightning bolts and skull & crossbones and pills and stars and locks and rainbows... I had to keep that one. And when I drop a couple of dress sizes, and my magnificent but rather cumbersome bosom no longer forces the buttons down the front to gape, I will wear the hell out of it! :)
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( The best thing about having read Twilight is getting the jokes. )
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ETA: Hey. Has Sam / anyone invented a remote dialling device, like they have on the ships, only one they can port around with them? So, like, when they need to report back to the SGC, instead of schlepping back to the SGC, they can just dial in the co-ordinates on a nifty armpiece, and tell Gen. Hammond they're okay and need another couple of hours to look at some important ruins? Because, were I in charge of SG-1, that would be my first order. "Make something that means we don't have to keep walking back and forth from the Gate or rely on the SGC dialling in. My feet hurt." Of course, I am quite lazy, plus sometimes I wear impractical shoes (but only if they REALLY go with my outfit), so.
I can't remember if that exists outside of the ships. Am I being really forgetful? If not, Sam should get right on it - after the hoverbikes.
And yet.
This morning I read this sweet little post, and much though I still hate Twilight and I hope that its fans don't take on the message that a relationship with a controlling, self-loathing, stalkerish man is the epitome of romance, I also identify with their passion for their thing. I, too, have that kind of unreasoning love for my brand of poison. I wouldn't feel comfortable trying to defend Stargate's record on racial issues, I have problems with how they deal with female characters, and I know it's generally as deep as a very shallow puddle. But it's my show, and I love it for its potential, its humour, and its flashes of real heart.
So, I hope you enjoy Eclipse, Twi-hards. Enjoy the zenith of the fannish experience, when your thing is riding the wave of popularity and it seems like everyone is writing fanfic about it, or having passionate arguments about A/B vs. A/C vs. B/C, or posting pictures, or squeeing about the latest news, or making fan art, or writing bad poetry, or finding some other brand new way to engage with and expand on the text. That time when it's The Most Important Thing Ever to find out what brand of cereal your favourite character prefers. I've been there, and will go there again, no doubt, and it's the best feeling.
And read some Tamora Pierce.
Still, they taste lovely. Maybe I'll use them in a trifle.
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Twilight continues to be unbelievably moronic. I'm reading it slowly because, frankly, I have better things to do with my time than spend it with a self-absorbed brat and her 108-year-old idiot boyfriend who, in all that time, hasn't come up with anything more interesting to talk about than "Uh, so, like, what's your, um, favourite colour?". It comes to something when I'm missing the Anne Rice vampires. Or Lestat, anyway - he knew how to spend an eternity.
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Between now and next Wednesday I have 9 meetings. Send help.
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Captain Sensible is surprisingly tall in person.
Now I feel like curling up in a big, comfy chair and reading my exceptionally exciting, slightly silly, but very entertaining book, 'Ratcatcher' by James McGee. It's like a Regency James Bond, crossed with Sharpe. Women swoon over his dark good looks, his boss gives him lots of leeway because he's the best at what he does, and he goes around being grim and scarred but still slightly vulnerable and with a dark(ish) past. There are highwaymen, and London pickpockets, and the finest Toledo steel, and French conspirators, and forbidden duels at dawn. I've picked out the chief villain, because he's been looking at Our Hero with cold blue eyes. Clearly, he's the one with the stolen papers. Also, the woman with the stiletto (knife) under her pillow is going to turn out to be unhinged, or otherwise bad news - you don't get anywhere in these novels by sucking blood suggestively from the hero's finger within ten pages of meeting him.
Oh, work. Why must you get in the way?
Feel free to add to this in comments. I'll edit it to reflect anything new, every so often.
As with Devil's Cub, I think I still love the parents a little bit more. Oh, Justin Alistair and his magnificent, sininster gold outfit, and his flirtatious way with a fan! *swoons*
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In honour of that, and because I've been thinking for a while that I need a book icon, I've made a few. Feel free to snurch if you want. Or, in fact, to use as bases - most of them are fairly plain.
( Icons behind cut. )
Also, I read a fic the other day which totally made me think that the writer had been reading Lois McMasters Bujold. But in a good way - and subtle enough that I may be mistaken. I don't think I'd have seen it if I hadn't just read it, myself.
Lucinda Williams CD has arrived, woohoo! It is lovely (so far, I like it a lot more than West - particularly the song Honey Bee *hearts her accent*). But Sapphire and Steel, allegedly dispatched at the same time, hasn't turned up yet. Has it disappeared en route? Where are my medium atomic weight agents? Okay, it said 3-5 days delivery, so it's not technically late yet... but still.
Um... more of this inane drivel later, when I think of it.
- The sandwich my beloved made me, with just the right amount of (English) mustard on it. The sandwiches he makes are not the sandwiches I would make for myself, but I love the quirks he gives them, and the opportunity it gives me to acclimatise my tastebuds to hot stuff.
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- Everyone who recommended Lois McMasters Bujold to me. And the librarian I started chatting to on Saturday who was determined I should read The Warrior's Apprentice, to the extent that she searched through the so-recently-returned-they're-still-behind-the-counter shelves for me. And found it. (Although, the fact that I was up reading this book until late late late last night may be one reason I'm finding this Monday morning so very difficult.)
- I drew this xkcd strip on our whiteboard on Friday, and have seen people reading it, notably the person who made me think of it in the first place. Hopefully learning will percolate.
- I have the latest Lucinda Williams album and a DVD set of Sapphire and Steel on order. My love for Sapphire and Steel, I will show you it soon, no doubt. "Transuranic heavy elements may not be used where there is life. Medium atomic weights are available..."
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- Getting up early on Saturday and meeting up with a friend at the local shops for tea and toast, and wandering round the shops, and stopping for more tea. And then going to the library with A, and then coming home and having a nap. And then waking up, having dinner, pottering around for a while, and napping again. Until 5am. And then waking up, looking at the moon and what I think was Orion (three bright stars, his belt), and... going back to sleep.
- Feeling very refreshed on Sunday.
- A postcard from
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- Stephen Fry's expression after the flyover at the unbe-freaking-lievable local ball game between two American colleges (a game which, in the UK, would have consisted of maybe fifty people watching two teams and a referee on a muddy pitch, too damn early on a Saturday morning. Your country is huge, Americans. HUGE.)
- A picture of a baby owl. SO CUTE.
- Pistachio ice cream. My favourite flavour since a school trip to Bolougne, where I ordered it from a street stall, thinking it was mint. It wasn't mint, and it was a million times nicer. Other than that, I remember that Bolougne was steep and sunny, with old stone city walls, and a beautiful cathedral with stained glass windows and a carved and polished wooden hand, smooth as glass.
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The Rules: Post info about ONE Supreme Court decision, modern or historic to your lj. (Any decision, as long as it's not Roe v. Wade.) For those who see this on your f-list, take the meme to your OWN lj to spread the fun.
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Non-Americans, I would love it if you posted a foundational court case in your system.
So I've been meaning to post about this for some time now...
( Somerset v. Stewart and Knowles, 1772. )