A library in my hand

I love books. I have several thousand books.
We've run out of wall space for bookcases, and have run out of bookcase space (despite double horizontal stacking) for books.

And my best friend, who I'd imagine you all know is my beloved Nettie, and is the best best friend anyone can have, bought me a Kindle.

And I love it.

It can't replace real paper books for me, but it can damn well supplement them.

I have been reading, (free from the Kindle store) for the last three weeks or so, mostly Victorian novels, with a few forays into Edwardian. Thing is, most of these are difficult to get in paper format, either from the library or from a bookshop. But free digital copies? Yes please.

So, a few of the books I've been reading:
The Strange Case of Doctor Jeckyll and Mr Hyde - Robert Louis Stevenson, 1886
The Lost World - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, 1912
The Mysterious Island - Jules Verne, 1878
The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins, 1859
The Picture of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde, 1890
Little Women - Louisa May Alcott, 1868
Three Men in a Boat - Jerome K Jerome, 1889
The Voyage Out - Virginia Woolf, 1915
Diary of a Nobody - George and Weedon Grossmith, 1892
The Damnation of Theron Ware - Harold Frederic, 1896

There's a lushness of language in novels from this time that nowadays, for better or worse, would sound ridiculous. I find it quite easy to get lost in the language. It's so pretty.

I won't say I've converted to the Kindle - I'm in the middle of three paperbacks as I type this, and spent £25 in a bookshop yesterday - however, I don't see why one can't have the best of both worlds and use both the Kindle and paper books. Because that means more books, and I can never think of that as a bad thing.

PS: Whilst looking up the links for this blog post, I downloaded Little Men and Jo's Boys by Louisa May Alcott, and the entire works of Jerome K Jerome. All for free!

Procrastination

I got up this morning, ready to go tippety tap and write a post.
Unfortunately, I then started watching Agents of Cracked videos (featuring my imaginary boyfriend Dan O'Brien) and, well, that was some time ago.

And I updated my friend's website for her books. And read articles on wikipedia about white blood cells and H. G. Wells and Stevengraphs. And I re-read half an Agatha Christie novel (Third Girl).

If there were an award for procrastination, I'd totally win. I'll be there to receive it in a moment. Just let me finish this one thing...

And writing this blog is something I enjoy doing! Just imagine how bad I am when it comes to boring stuff. Boring to me, I mean. This may well be boring to you. If so, what are you doing reading it? Go outside! Get some fresh air! Ride a donkey!

*ahem*
Anyway, today is 'get rid of all the useless non-fitting clothes that are cluttering up the house and giving me anxiety headaches' day. Or GROATUN-FCTACUTHAGMAH day for short. Hmm. Doesn't 'groatun' sound like a really unpleasant scrotum? But I digress.

I did a purge of clothing recently. And having given it a month or two, I am doing a secondary (and more vicious) purge. Have I worn it in the intervening period? If yes, fine. If no, why not? And if there is no satisfactory reason then out it goes.

I also spent some time on Friday trying on all my pairs of leggings and jeans, and getting rid of ones that were too big, or too small, or had holes in (unless they were meant to). And I managed this without going into a huge depressive body-image spiral when some of them were too small. Go me! I now have about a fifth of what I had, but I know they all fit, which is nice. When Matt wakes up (he looks pretty damn adorable and snuggly in bed, damn him!) I'm going to be going through all my drawers and getting rid of stuff I don't need or want or wear. It's pretty satisfying, actually.

And I may, last night, have looked at the state of our bedroom and called items of clothing "bitches". I am not willing to confirm or deny this.

Ok, I'm desperately trying to find a way to draw this all to a close. Maybe link the ramblings together in some coherent way.
*taps fingers*

Oh, I know! Let's just pretend it's the end of a Thundercats cartoon. Lion-O will say something moral and vaguely condescending, and then we'll all laugh at Snarf whilst only moving our heads.
Yeah, that works. Totally.

Grownups

Matt and I have full-time jobs. We pay the rent and the bills. We have pensions and a savings account and bus passes. We donate to charity. We look after ourselves and our pets. And yet, there are a lot of people out there who would (and do) say we're immature.

Why?
Because we play computer games.
Because we are passionate about science fiction.
Because we have long and involved debates about fictional or hypothetical scenarios.
Because we buy toys.
Because (as Matt told me) every day is costume day to me.
And for myriad other reasons that make no sense.

Personally, I don't understand it. I mean, is a large part of maturity not learning who you are and being comfortable in your own skin? I think that with my thirties has come a better understanding of who I am, and an examination and embracing of all those weirdnesses that make up my personality.

I have also found myself being more publically and openly me. I'm not hiding my nerdishness, not trying to be seen as cool, not trying to be in with the 'in people', not wondering whether I maybe shouldn't say something or post something online because people will tell me it's stupid or immature or wrong.

So yeah, every day IS costume day. I'm not talking about underpants-on-the-outside type costumery, but more a work-appropriate outfit with a theme. Such as Victorian safari. Or witch. Or techno-futuristic. It's amazing what one can do with a basic outfit and some good accessorising.

And yes, today we went out to the supermarket intending to buy yoghurt and vegetables (see above re: taking care of ourselves). Instead, we bought yoghurt and vegetables and masses of reduced meat for freezing. And also a double-ended Darth Maul lightsaber. Because it's fucking awesome, that's why. (I cut the tape on the box using our axe. We're just that awesome.)

There were two noticable types of reactions from other shoppers. 1) A kind of I-also-am-a-nerd-and-I-approve nod or 2) A look of disgust.
I don't get it. In what way is this a thing that's worthy of disgust?

Yes, we're adults and yes, we're buying a lightsaber. We're not selling babies wrapped in dead kittens.

Fuck it. Matt and I are embracing our quirks. And it's marvellous.

Why I love modern technology.

This weekend, I have interacted with friends all over the world. From people who live a couple of miles away, to people who live on the other side of the planet. I have done this through phone calls, text messages, online instant messages, and Facebook.

In what way is this technology not awesome? And, whilst I know I overuse that word, I mean it in its strictest sense here. Worthy of awe.

An example - today Nettie was hosting a tea party. I was sad I couldn't be there, but was pretty excited to hear about it. We were chatting on instant messenger, and she told me about her outfit. And then she sent me a picture of it. In real time. From the other side of the world. Here I am, sitting on my sofa in Scotland, and I am able to see what a beloved friend is wearing for a get-together in Australia. It's just mindboggling, sometimes.

Here's another example of how great this is. I went to the junk shop on Saturday, and returned with some treasures.


I posted a picture of the records on Facebook, and a friend of mine, who lives in the US, commented to say she loves Rosemary Clooney. I admitted I'd never actually heard her, so my friend gave me a link to one of Clooney's songs on youtube. I listened to it - it's beautiful - and then I decided to try and track down the dates of the two records. The Rosemary Clooney one was easy. I found a recording of the song in question, and it had the year of the album on the webpage, but the other is trickier.
It seems to be a not-very-well-known version of "Have You Met Miss Jones?". So, in my searches, I read a biography of the artist in question on wikipedia. I found a website where someone had recorded their gramophone playing one of his other songs. I bounced through IMDB. And I learnt lots of interesting new things! Unfortunately, none of them were the year of release for this particular record, but to me, that's not the big picture.

This is what I love about the internet. If you are a trivia lover like me, it can lead you down the rabbit hole to a wonderful world of facts and minutiae. It's a warehouse of people's passions (and, ok, some of those passions are disturbing things which are best avoided), and that is, to me, a Good Thing. I love that, for example, someone recorded their gramophone playing records from the 1950s. I love that there are webpages out there for people who are obsessed with My Little Ponies, or woodworking, or Batman, or model railways, or folk music, or pirate music, or oboes, or stamps, or tartans... or anything.

I know, it's not a very in-depth post today, but I think it's something worth thinking about. It reminds me of Clarke's Third Law:

Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.

Excuses, excuses.

Gosh, sorry. It's been three weeks since I last posted. It's all due to a combination of things - a family bereavement, injury, illness, hamster escape, work stress, a patch of poor mental health, and just being so achingly tired over the last few weeks that most nights I get home from work, make dinner, and crawl into bed.

I think it's also to do with the fact that I don't want to finish posting the pictures. Because, well, that means that it's all over and done with, and that sucks.
But hey, that's how the cookie biscuit crumbles, right?

So, here we go.
Nettie, Christian, Matt and I made it up Arthur's Seat on the morning of the 3rd.


Old-fashioned graffiti is so much more impressive than today's paint scrawl.

View!

Matt being gusted by the wind.

Proof that Nettie made it to the concrete 'cairn' at the very top.

We couldn't quite work out if the lack of Diego was mournful or triumphant. I like to think that, the morning the group were going to climb Arthur's Seat, Diego rolled over in his hotel bed, and told them to fuck off, because he was going to have a lie-in instead.

Matt had told us that a teacher had once told him it was easier to walk on slopes if you zig-zagged. So he and Christian zig-zagged all the way back down...

Later on, we went into town. Nettie tried on some hats.

We headed home when it was getting late, and all dusky.

This is an ad for a comedy show, and I just love the slogan.

The next day, we went up to the Camera Obscura, which is always a lot of fun. Whilst Rowenna was getting the baby carrier sorted out, I distracted Zeph with a mirror illusion that was by the ticket desk.

We walked all the way to the top of the building to watch the Camera Obscura show, and to take in the views.

A crazy mirror.

The 'Tunnel of Eternity'. Or something like that. Mirrors, lights, that sort of thing.


Ok! Next up: Nettie's birthday!

Hair! And... things.

1) I re-dyed my hair to its dark plum sort of colour on Friday night. I then, with much trepidation, tried a new type of highlight. And it worked! Hooray!

LOVE IT!

2) A bonus to finally having wireless internet? Being able to go online, whilst lounging around on your bed, to try and prove your husband wrong about the average size of a turkey (the bird, not the country). I failed to prove him wrong, but that was not the fault of the internet.

3) Matt and I went out to the park today, for some much-needed running-about time. I couldn't do much in the way of actual running, of course, because last Sunday I dropped a jar on my foot and broke my toe. *sigh*
So Matt did running, and I hobbled along as best I could. Oh yeah, and Matt did some climbing, too.

Let's play a game! Wherrrrre's Matthew?
That's right! He's lurking in the woods like a nerdy Blair Witch!

For more pictures, of Small Things (obviously), hop on over to my photography blog, wherein you will find many wonders.

4) It's our wedding anniversary this Wednesday (nine years! Where does the time go?), and I don't know if we're going to do much. We'll probably go out for dinner, but I think it's going to be low-key, as we are going to Amsterdam in a couple of weeks as a belated celebration. I can't wait!

Ok, this post is rambling and disjointed enough, I think. Hopefully I'll be more together next time. Bye!

William Topaz McGonagall

This week, Matt and I have been exploring the joys of McGonagall.

No, that's not some sort of little-known and ungainly sexual thing. William McGonagall was simply one of the most fascinating poets ever. He is the basis for Terry Pratchett's Nac Mac Feegle bards - the Gonnagles - who can scare off enemies with their terrible poetry.

I already knew his poem 'The Tay Bridge Disaster' (go and read it, then come back. I can wait, and it's totally worth it), but I hadn't realised that he'd written more than 200 poems. This will keep us in comedy gold for weeks!

He was a fascinating man, too. He only 'realised he was a poet' at the age of 52, and was wildly popular due to the consistant crappiness of his poems. Apparently, there's a theory that he knew exactly how bad he was, and his poetry was a form of performance art. Whether he did or he didn't, his work is amazing - the complete lack of scansion and horrific rhymes make his poems a wonder to behold.

A particular favourite of ours is 'The Dundee Flower Show', incorporating such awesome rhymes as:

And there were twenty four roses distinct to be seen
Belonging to James Cocker and Sons Aberdeen
Also some beautiful roses as ever sprang from the earth
And some of them belonging to Dickens & Turnbull Perth

Oh, and the best way to read these is out loud, to some poor victim, whilst holding the classic 'declaiming' pose - one hand on your heart, the other gesticulating wildly.

Now, in our marriage, Matt tends to bring the science and logic side, whereas I bring the creative and mental side. But Matt has totally found his creative niche with this. I can (as we call it) McGonagall, but it takes quite a lot of thinking. Matt effortlessly McGonagalls away, sometimes to quite a worrying extent.

An emailed poem he sent me at work this week:

Oh! Most beautiful Flora to whom I am writing upon this day,
It is with neither a feeling of sorrow nor either with a feeling of dismay,
That I am able to say,
That on this mornings journey from the midway point of Princes Street in Edinburgh to the Gyle,
Nothing did occur of a nature vile.
And so I was not sick of heart nor did it require to be restarted with intervention manual,
For there was seen by me a man out walking nearby to where there used to be a route for buses but is now the future site of tram lines with a spaniel.
And it were that I could'st observe this happening
For I had consum'd not whisky, rum or gin
So remember should you wish to live most happily
Consume not of the strong drink such as whisky, rum, gin or brandy.

I look forward with great joy to hearing of how you do fare
From where you are quite far away over there
And I am curious to hear what it is that for breakfast you did consume
So please do say soon.

And he referred to McGonagall as "the original McGonagall" yesterday. I think I should be worried.

Saturday is good.

First things first. Have you read Tavi yet? She's pretty damn awesome. I may not be 100% what the normal people might call 'a fashion icon' myself, but I did totally steal her two-tone tights idea for when I went out for coffee (or tea, in my case) this afternoon. And she's only 13. 13! Gah!

But you should observe the interestingness of my outfit for today. I was (and still am) slightly unsure about the long straight top over a slightly A-line skirt, but I think it worked, as a whole. (Matt was saying "Give me... anger, sweetie!")


The Hair was dyed again this weekend. It really, really needed to be. An inch or so of brown (and grey. *sniffle*) was showing at the roots. Cyber Purple makes it sound a lot more dramatic than the, admittedly rather nice, dark reddish purple that it actually is.

The rug is still making us happy. I keep finding Matt basking on it in the evenings. "What are you doing, sweetheart?" I ask in my kindest wifely voice.
"I am lying on the grass. In the sun."
I think Matt might like it to be Spring now.

In this picture, can you find...
My pair of weird studded boots?
Matt's feet?
A bottle of Appletiser?
A tiny crazy hamster cowering in the corner of her cage?
A box set of Dungeons and Dragons?


And I am currently sitting on the rug. Typing this on my spanking new laptop. Which I can do because, aside from said spanking new laptop, we also purchased a wireless router. It's very exciting because, with two (TWO!) laptops and this new router, we can both be online at the same time. AT THE SAME TIME, Y'ALL!

Ok, ok, fine. Everyone else has been wireless for simply years. But we have now been dragged, kicking and screaming, into the Century of the Fruitbat.
Huzzah!

Recommendations.

Internet:
If you're at a loose end, I'd recommend checking out Jorge Garcia's blog.
(He plays Hurley in Lost, for those who don't know.)
I'm not a huge fan of the show - I lost interest in it about the end of Season 2 - but he's a funny guy, takes good photographs, and is an insanely talented pumpkin carver. What more could you want from a blog?

I'm sure I've touted it here before, but the BMI Project is really worth a look. I tend to revisit it when I feel that my half-buried eating disorders are kicking back in. Which means, duh, that's what's happening at the moment. I have been managing them relatively well over the last few years, although my self-image is terrible, but they're rearing their ugly little heads just now.
I suspect there're two factors contributing to this - 1) shortage of money means I have to think more about what to eat, therefore putting it first in my mind, and 2) my lower right wisdom tooth seems to be coming (further) in, making it a bit painful to eat. My sick little brain goes "Great! No eating = thinner!" *sigh*

ANYway...

Books:
I've been reading the Scavenger trilogy by K.J. Parker over the past three days. Whilst very good (if you like fantasy novels, which I do) it confuses the fuck out of me.
Is the protagonist a god? Is he the amnesiac? Or the monk? Or both? All three? Is his life a dream? Is the monk's life a dream? Is he a crow? Is he the general? Or the other general? Who knows? A lot of the 'scenes' are told more than once, with him seeming to be different people each time.
All those questions and more pop up in just the first book (they're not spoilers - it's all pretty straightforward in its confusingness).
It's a really good intellectual exercise, actually, and it's nice to read a fantasy novel that actually challenges the brain cells. I'm halfway through the second book, and I am looking forward to some answers soon. Pretty please?

Happy Holidays To All!

I'll go into detail in a later post, but I have just two things to say today.

Firstly, please go and visit Small Things.

What's that, you ask?
Why, it's yet another blog from me.

I came to the conclusion yesterday that I needed a photo blog to save this one from slumping into an image-only thing. So Small Things was launched. Small Things is an outlet for my obsessive photography of, well, Small Things. This doesn't mean that this blog will be image-free, of course, but I really can't post all the pictures I want to without missing out a chunk of my weird and freestyle ramblings. And that, obviously, would be a tragic loss.

Please go, look, and comment. I welcome constructive criticisms (emphasis on 'constructive' there, before you get too enthusiastic...) and suggestions for different types of shot or subject matter.

Secondly, I hope everyone is having / has had good holidays.

So... HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

From me and my zombie family*.









*Why yes, my family rock, albeit in a nerdy fashion.

Doctor Who Trailer

In excited expectation of tonight's Doctor Who episode (I enjoyed the Eurovision, but they bumped DW back a week), I went to the DW homepage on the BBC website.
And there I discovered a Very Fun Thing.
They have added to the website a trailer maker. One can put together a DW trailer with video clips, sound clips, effects and music. Matt and I spent this afternoon making trailers, and this was our best one.
It's a trailer for general DW, rather than for any particular series or episode.
We're quite proud of it.
Please excuse if it goes jumpy or looks badly edited.
It's not, but the website seems to get a tad overloaded.

Of buses and spies.

The thing that does its best to make up for the stellar-ness of the new flat is the commuting time, which is decidedly non-stellar. Buses are relatively few for city living, and the one we get into town takes anywhere up to an hour (although, in all fairness, some of that is due to completely pointless roadworks along the way). Matt and I tend to get the same bus in the mornings before splitting off to catch more, separate, buses to our respective work.

There are regulars on our morning route:

There's the woman with the Dog Aid Society sweatshirt and her (very cute) dog.

There's the teenage girl in the green private school uniform who often carries a musical instrument or hockey stick.

There's the group of boys wearing a different private school uniform, one of whom mysteriously shaved his head at the front, leaving a curtain of longish hair stretching from ear to ear at the back. It looked ludicrous, and we bet that he cut the rest off soon after due to mockery from his peers. We were wrong.

There's the guy with his two little daughters, who dress identically, down to their bags and lunchboxes.

And then there's us. We tend to go a tad loopier in the mornings, and end up having conversations about the oddest things. And sometimes we slip into character. A while back, we were two rival topiary enthusiasts, debating the use of box hedges.
This last week, we were elderly Russian spies, who'd spent the best part of their lives feeding the ducks whilst swapping secrets.

We get strange looks a lot.

I should also point out that Matt is called Pavel because I needed to think of a Russian name, and took one from Star Trek. My nerdiness is showing...

These character things tend to bleed over into online conversations throughout the day. After the topiary debate, I sent Matt an email telling him that he was a fraud, and that his views on box hedges were insane.
This time, we exchanged IMs...

Me: Ahhh, Pavel. My old friend.

Matt: Ahhh Sergei, it has been many years no?

Me: The breast of Mother Russia beckons me ever more often these days.

INTERVAL: BRIEF DISCUSSION OF A PLANT MY CO-WORKER HAS.

Matt: it reminds me of the winter blooms of my native Omsk...

Me: Ahh, Omsk. A jewel in the crown.

Matt: aaah yes, to once more taste mother's black bread...

Me: Da. *sigh*
It has been too long, my friend.

Matt: and yet we stay Sergei, we stay... for teh ducks perhaps they ahve become good friends...

Me: Their welcoming quacks warm this stony Slavic heart,

Matt: Not stony Sergei friend! Old and tired yes, but never of teh stone.

Me: I am old, Pavel. I am a foolish old man who yearns too much for the days of his youth. You, my friend, you bring me hope in these dark times.

Me: I go now. I smoke a cigarette, and I think of old times. I will return.

Matt: I will await you once more old friend. *tears chunk of stale bread and tosses it to the pond with a sigh...*

Yeah, we get strange looks.

Spam Titles (AKA Google Magnet)

Ok, so at work, it seems a previous receptionist signed up for some pretty dodgy sites using the reception email address. Every morning, despite all the precautions against spam, I have to clear the inbox of dozens of phishing scams, adverts for online pharmacies, offers of very cheap software, and the occasional Nigerian scam. And, of course, the viagra spam. Full of spelling errors (both accidental and deliberate to avoid the spam filters), ludicrous claims, and, in a few of them, the word "MegaDick".
Below is one day's worth of 'increase your size' email titles, my responses, and one of the disturbing images that came with...

Nights full of excitement become more real with a new dic'k-increasing remedy!

As opposed to imaginary?

Take a challenge of a penile size competition and win with our wonder-med!cine!

There are competitions? What on earth are the prizes?

If you treat your filly as a goddess, why not become a God in her bedroom?

Beastiality is bad, mmmmkay?

There are no losers among the possessors of long dic'ks. Now you can be one of them!

None? None at all? Cite, please!

The most defiant fillies will strive for riding your new big Italian stallion

Ahhh, they have a farm. Now I understand.

It's amazing how this wonderful pill can improve your dik!

But what will it do for my dik-dik?

Turn your trouser mouse into a one-eyed giant with this brand new medicine

... I've never heard the term 'trouser mouse' before.

Cutest girls will go horny and wild when you pull out your new big python

They're really big (no pun intended) on the animal comparisons, aren't they?

Length and strength is what your di'ck really needs!

My di'ck? Really?

Enhance your manliness and sensuality with a new size of your dick

But... I don't want to enhance my manliness!

Even if you were not born with a massive rod, you may easily obtain it

At some sort of DIY shop?

Gigantic rod may be easily obtained with this new medicine

Well, hoorah. My question is answered.

Does your Mr. Winkie need upgrading? Our offer will interest you

*laughs*
Mr Winkie 2.0: Now extendable, and with a vulcanised rubber grip!

You surely deserve to be packed with larger d'ck

Wait, wait, wait... is this one directed at men or women? If it's the latter... ewwww.

May i ask why you're so unhappy with your dic'k?

Certainly. It's because it's non-existent. How about you?

Never agree to be a small-dic'ked loser! Struggle for your s'e_xual well-being!

And FIGHT! For your RIGHT! To PAAAAAAAARTY!

Have you ever felt a kiss of a womb? With your new big rod you'll feel it!

"I've been kissed by a womb on the grave,
I've been kissed by a womb
I've been kissed by a womb on the grave,
...And if I should fall along the way
I've been kissed by a womb
...been kissed by a womb on the grave."

As your dic'k gets larger, no woman will say "no"

Ummm... no.

Increasing your penile size is your sure way towards s'e_xual health and well-being

By having a dangerous and unnecessary drug in your system? Yeah, 'health and well-being', all right.

If your girl cannot be satisfied with your weewee, you have to turn it into a schlong!

*laughs*
Weewee? Schlong? Sexy!

Make your hot girlfriend climax unceasingly stuffing her flower with your new big shaft!

Ewwww...

Dreamin' of having a huge schlong, like black bros have? Now that's not a problem!

Will it also be black?

Enjoy with you hard stick

This somehow sounds like a mistranslated instruction for something innocent.

Get ready for unbelievable changes in your s'e_xual life

Impotence.

You will work wonders in bed with your new long and stiff magic love stick

I'm sure there's some Harry Potter slash fiction out there with this sentence in it...

Your short sword could be much longer and win you more s'e_xual battles!

...and I'm sure there's some WoW slash fiction out there with this sentence in it.

Awkward

It's been so long that it's difficult to get back into the swing of this bloggery malarkey.

So... what's new with me?
Well, new house.
I love this flat. It's lovely and high-ceilinged and homely. It's the sort of house that needs books and art in it.

I'm working at a school for the deaf. Now I'm rid of my vastly annoying co-worker, I love my job. I'm there for another few weeks, at least, so that's good.

God, my writing's rusty.

Oh well. I'll update again soon. I just wanted to prove I haven't quit the blog altogether.

Prodigal Girl

Well, when I wrote that last post, I wasn't expecting it to be more than three weeks until I would even get online again.

Since my laptop crapped out on me, things have happened. Spooky things. Creepy things. Mysteeeeeerious things.

Well, no. Just things.

Let's see.

• I'm now signed up with an employment agency, and harangue them regularly to find me a suitable job.

• We're getting kicked out of our flat in a couple of weeks, and are moving to a new one. The flat that we've been accepted for (signing the lease next weekend, moving the weekend after, barring any horrible things happening) is a nice third floor flat in one of the parts of Edinburgh that used to be a village before the city grew and absorbed it. It's got a nice comfortable atmosphere, more space, especially storage, and a spare room. So no more will overnight guests have to sleep on a sofa.

• Matt turned 29.

• And despite my hatred of the festival, we made the most of it by going to see both Mitch Benn and Kitty Flanagan.

Thrilling, innit?
Nice to be (more or less) back, though.

Cafepress

I'm really wanting to move on with my cafepress shop, as so often people say of my drawings "That would look great on a t-shirt!" and that way, I could point them towards somewhere they could get one (cheeky, I know, but what the hey...)

Two problems.

Firstly, when my old computer died, it wiped all the scans I had done.

Secondly, I can only have one design per product per shop, if I don't want to upgrade to Premium. I don't want to do that because I drastically doubt that I'd make enough money to cover the charge (I'll be surprised if I make any money, to be honest.) So I'd have to set up a separate shop for each design I want to use.

So I have to scan everything again (300dpi - I'm remembering, Carlotta!), choose which ones I want to use, work out what products I want to put them on, then set up shops for each design.

This all seems like a lot of work all of a sudden.

My deviantART page is here, if anyone has any suggestions as to which designs should be put on products.

And now I'm off to hook up the scanner to the laptop, and settle down to an evening of re-scanning.

Nigeria

Now, we all know about Nigerian (or '419') scams.

I was thinking about them today as I had a work email from someone who had fallen for it completely. He wanted to know whether it was legit, because he'd already sent them all his information, except for his bank details. I responded quite firmly that it was a classic of the genre, pointed him towards the page where snopes cover them in detail, and strongly advised him to not give them his bank details.

He had sent the original email on Friday, I had responded on Sunday, and I got an email back today. He said that since he hadn't received a response from me (I guess a day and a half is too long to wait to find out whether someone's trying to nick all your money), and although he thought it was probably a scam, he'd gone ahead and sent (and this is my favourite bit) his wife's account details (although not her SWIFT code).

And now, of course, he's freaking out because the scammers have their details, and he doesn't know what to do.

I... have mixed feelings about this issue. I'm pleased he decided to find out from a relevant source whether this was a real offer or not (although if he'd tried some googling, it might have been quicker) but then his actions after that just have me shaking my head in puzzlement.

The other reason I've been thinking about them is that... well, they have furnished my brain with a delightful mental picture of what Nigeria should be like. Filled with beautiful princesses, assassinations, nighttime smuggling runs with diamond filled small planes taking off from lush jungles, swarthy men with big moustaches, machine guns, political intrigue, rich ambassadors with dark secrets in their pasts... Indiana Jones or James Bond-like, really.

That would be fun...

Goon 1: "Well, what have you got on Wednesday?"

Goon 2: "Let me see... ok." *flicks through his diary* "Assassination, assassination, diamond run, then back home just in time for an assignation with a princess..."

Goon 1: "Damnit. I was hoping you might be able to cover for my 3.40 attempted assassination gig. Jim's wife is due on Wednesday, and I said I might be able to cover his shift at the gold mines. I've been growing my moustache especially."

Goon 2: "I might be able to fit it in on my way to the plane..."

Feets!

I'm not religious. I'm also not superstitious. However, I do like the idea of the Trickster.

I have a new laptop. This is a very good thing. I am allergic to the metal area around the touchpad. It brings me up in rashes. This is not a good thing. But I do find it very funny.
I have to wear my 'laptop gauntlets' when on the computer. They're very stylish.


In other news, the weather's been pretty nice recently. Some pictures of Holyrood Park and Arthur's Seat in the sunshine, being unreasonably pretty.








And from the other hill near-ish our house.








And here: I has feets.

Mutterings.

Well, I've actually been doing reasonably well recently, in terms of not turning into a crazy cat (well, rat) lady.
Whilst I'm still hardly whooping with joy about leaving the house, I am actually getting out there. On Friday I decided to go out and take photos around Holyrood park. By myself.

Now, this isn't particularly brave to anyone else. I realise that. But it took me a while to steel myself to go out there.

So out I went, with only my keys, my camera and some spare batteries. Not even a book or my MP3 player which I usually use to isolate myself in my own little bubble so I don't have to interact...

And I ended up wandering around the park for an hour and a half or so, taking pictures.
I was proud of myself.

Now, said pictures would be part of this post, which leads me to my lazy-blogger lists.

Bad things
My hard drive died, deleting almost every single one of my saved files. I now have a crappy new hard drive, which only has Paint as a photo manipulation programme.
So, no old photos, Projects, word files, etc. Plus a very very slow way to resize the 50-odd photos taken.

Cold. Cold, cold, cold. As many of you know, I have really, really crappy circulation. I can't feel my fingers. Or my toes. I wish we had central heating.

I have the plague. Well, probably not, but I'm excreting more in the way of phlegm than I'd really like to. Plus the cough, the burning eyes, the sore throat, the muzzy head... at least the vomiting only lasted one day.

Good things
I received a parcel full of lurid orange pyjamas with cows on from Nettie. They have a little vest with them, and a pair of fuzzy yellow bedsocks. They're only about one size too big for me this time, unlike the pink ones she got me last year, the tartan ones Amber gave me, and the gnome ones Joe sent me. Sadly, this means Matt won't get to be amused as, when wearing any of the big ones, I'd turn over in bed and the pyjamas wouldn't turn with me. I love my pyjamas.

My new kettle - it's all snazzy and shiny, and it has a button you press to flip open the top. It's just generally fancy and adorable.

When I went into the living room this morning, I greeted the pets as usual ("Hello there, general small wuzzes!") and then they all woke up and wandered out of their beds, as if for roll call.

Matt. Just in general.