active_apathy

One point for the source. One point for the author. One point for the author's real name¹.

Here we have a miscellany of unrelated thoughts on various subjects. In other words, a LiveJournal entry.

I've half a mind to buy myself one of those really tiny digital cameras, so that I can carry it around to randomly take pictures of random stuff - which would be fun, educational, and possibly quite amusing. The picture quality's probably about as good as having a blind man with no fingers sketch by description², but it could be fun. And, for that matter, help me remember how to use cameras that aren't SLRs.

In my typical manner of oddly delayed reporting, I was Out for much of Tuesday to shop for books, mostly because I happen to like books. No, no HP. My book purchases included Mister Monday, Grim Tuesday and Drowned Wednesday, for the Garth Nix fans, the first of the Spiderwick books, from Holly Black and the talented Tony DiTerlizzi, Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency by Mr Adams, and Neverwhere. There's likely to be more book purchases on Friday, so that my purchase list migrates a bit further onto my reading list.

Today's news is actually from yesterday, if the clock's to be taken as canon.

I hate automatic washing machines. I've had one for a month now, and I do. not. like. it. Ever since I learned how to wash clothes, I've been able to rely on the speed, efficiency, water efficiency and delicacy of a twin tub washing machine. And then the motor broke. No, they³ said. They don't have parts. It was time for a new machine, since things must be washed. As it happened, I now have a large, imposing, shiny white top-loading automatic.

And I have never seen a machine quite so impressive at making felt. No, really. The lint filters don't just collect a few stray fibers. Not at all. These lint filters are frightfully efficient machines for making multicoloured felt that smells a lot like soap, and I'd be far more appreciative of this fact if the machine weren't making felt out of my clothes, the vast majority of which are decidedly non-felty. Not only this, but the machine manages to spin half as much water out of, and twice as many creases into, whatever washing you happen to put into it. This, in turn, makes ironing more like work and less like a quick formality between the line and the drawer.

That's about it for the moment. Well... it is unless I remember something else, I suppose.

¹As if that's not a glaring hint.
²Or, given the way modern technology works, last year's camera squished into half the space.
³'They' being the repair folk, rather than some far-reaching power or conspiracy⁴.
⁴Which would've been so much more fun!