The episode was Objects in Space, which has some of my favourite lines. Just like every other episode. I'll be making a shiny new icon from it soon-ish, just to amuse myself.

I think I may have figured out what's wrong with comment notifications in Gmail. All mine are turning up just fine, but at semi-random times. I think some piece of shiny in the Google servers is aiming to misbehave. This is based on two of my mailing lists being a bit funny in their message delivery, and I find one problem at Google much easier to believe than one in LJ and another in Y! Groups.

Today, I bought myself a notepad a6 spiral-bound acid-free cartridge-paper sketchbook, which is my version of a notepad. I like the feel of the pages and the lack of lines, but I'm odd like that. This notebook is partly to keep the stuff I consider putting in LJ posts from slipping right out of my mind when I finally get near Deepest Sender.

I did more bookshopping today, but could find neither Wicked nor Arrows of the Queen. I shall have the bookshop order them in, in a few weeks' time. My purchases have been expanded, though, with The Princess Bride, Mort and Sourcery. My buying list is massively behind still, but I plan to work on it. Also! They forced convinced me to sign up for a free loyalty programme, which essentially works out to 5% store credit for every purchase, earnable and spendable anywhere in their chain and worth double-points until the end of August. So, I'll be ordering books and trying to pay for them in advance in about a month. I'm sneaky like that.

Lastly, people on buses are odd. I know some people have a slightly harsh or aggressive tone, like they're trying to force words out instead of just speaking, but this one woman on the bus had a manner of speaking that made it sound like she wanted to bludgeon each and every word with a cricket bat until it was no longer recognisable as the speech of a personable level-headed human. What was more surprising was this, said loudly enough that you could've taken notes in the middle of a busy street in Tokyo with a loud, rusty typewriter: "I never have a lot of luck with flatmates. They always seem to move out. (beat) [Name] is moving out now, too. Just when I got to know her. (Beat) She was always saying she never gets any space or privacy. It's my house, I can do what I want."

And that's how it is for 2:25am. I'll be back shortly with an icon, I think.
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April 2009

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