I’m reading Jo Walton‘s Livejournal, and here’s the thing: I hardly read any more.  I mean, I read things in the bookstore, but generally only from authors I already know I like; the last author I officially got into was Jim Butcher (and whoever they have ghost-writing the “Richard Castle” books, but that hardly counts; those are potato chip books par excellence, plus there are only two of them).

It’s weird, because I used to never go anywhere without a book.  I’d smuggle them in my coat sleeves, if I had to.  These days, not so much.  It’s not just a matter of money, because I rarely even pick things up in the library.  I’m not sure what’s up, except a vague feeling that I just don’t have time to read, which is fairly nonsensical.

Minor Service Interruption

As some of you have no doubt noticed, the other blog is currently down; my monthly subscription there ended and, because they’re going out of business soon, I couldn’t automatically renew it.  I’m trying to decide if it’s worth the money to renew it until they go offline for good, or if I should just concentrate on moving old entries over here.

I Am Productive

Things to do today:

  • Get property tax bills sent to the house instead of being paid by the mortgage company. 
  • Ask for a jury duty postponement.

Things accomplished today:

  • Get property tax bills sent to the house instead of being paid by the mortgage company. 
  • Receive a jury duty postponement.

And before 11 am, even.  Heck, both things together took less than ten minutes. I’m feeling very efficient.

Feel Like Conforming

Thus, a Friday Five
1. What’s the last song you heard? If it has to be something with words, a cover of “Sweet Jane”.  If no words counts, then it was Vivaldi but I’m not sure which piece.
2. What’s the last TV show you watched? The latest update of La Femme Nikita.
3. What book are you reading? I just finished rereasing Busman’s Honeymoon.
4. What’s the last thing you ate? A doughnut from the box someone brought to the office this morning.
5. What are you wearing? A black shirt, my grey skirt, knee-high socks, and black shoes.


I was reading Tsock Tsarina’s post about one of her recent designs, Two Cassandras, and came upon this quote:

The gift of prophecy is itself a dubious one, perhaps, but all the versions of the story seem to agree that Apollo’s initial intent was to confer a benefit on Cassandra, as such. Not without strings, however; and when she refused him the sexual favors he had come to expect in return, he turned it against her, depriving her of the power of convincing others, by spitting into her mouth during one final kiss.

So…what you’re saying is that Apollo was, essentially, a Nice Guy™?  “I gave you this nifty present and you even kissed me and now you won’t put out!” That is something I have never thought of before and it’s kind of cool to realize that people were jerks in the same kinds of ways even all that time ago.

Granted, there was a bit I found less compelling, as seen here:

(That there were kisses at all appears to support Aeschylus’s contention that in rejecting Apollo’s advances she was renegeing on a promise she had made him.)

No. No it does not. Not to get all shrill or anything.  Because, you know, people get to change their minds.

But still.  The concept of Apollo the Nice Guy™ is vastly amusing to me, for some reason.

Mens Sana

I am very chilly, and also kind of anxious about nothing in particular.  I have no idea how much the former may be contributing to the latter, but I’ll bet the effect is not zero, especially given that the physical effects of cold match up pretty neatly to those of fear.

I was perfectly comfortable coming in this morning–in fact, with my jacket zipped I was a tiny bit warmer than I might have liked.  But now I’m cold, despite wearing warm clothes.  I think it may be time to go get some hot water to drink.


One of the problems I’ve had with growing anything in my back courtyard is the fact that, despite the name, dirt is not dirt cheap.  I could build a couple of beds for pretty cheap, but then I’d need dirt to put in them.

But across the alley they’re putting in a garage in a spot that was landscaped to hell and gone (I’m kind of sad that the trees are coming out, but I can see why they’d rather have a garage), and there was a whole dumpster full of dirt last night.

Took me about a half an hour to come up with ~ten cubic feet of pretty nice topsoil, though I had to have help moving the containers afterwards.   I’m going to go out when I’m feeling more ambitious and check whether they’ve taken the dumpster away yet, but even if they have I’m not going to be sad.  I have enough dirt to get started with in the spring.

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It occurred to me today that, while I am waiting for Liam to be done with work, I could be getting credit instead of going and nosing around yarn I shouldn’t buy.  Thus, today I am earning comp time.  And you know, it’s remarkably easy to get things done when there’s no one around to be having whispered phone conversations in the next cube, bug me about a setting on the copy machine just because I happen to sit next to it, or hold forth loudly on the latest episode of Dancing with the Stars.  I think I like this plan, and should do it more on days I can’t bike.

Guaranteed Not to Break

The patch yesterday broke WoW on my computer.  I’ve done about a quarter of the suggested fixes, and none have worked yet; I would have done more, but I needed to, you know, sleep.  So this evening I’m going to have to try again.  I’d ask Liam to go after it, but he’s in the middle of his own update fun and I think it’d be a bad idea, especially since his bad patch is actually on the OS of his computer rather than just a game…

Beautiful Friendship

There was a gorgeous moment on Castle last night: Castle, wearing a steampunk contraption, opens the door to discover Becket on the other side.  Because of a conversation he just had with his daughter, he says, “How do you know when you’re in love?”  Becket, without pause or blink, replies, “All the songs make sense.”

That seems to sum it up, yeah.