active_apathy

I have other posts to make today, too: there'll be a poll, and there'll be a meme of Science!, and there'll be... um, this one. A miscellany of textfulness.

I'm going to start by mentioning that my ISP is discovering new heights of sucky at the moment; I could very nearly get a better Internet connection using a rubber band, a toothpick and a four-slice toaster. I may, at some point in this post, go text!shouty at my Internet breaking.

And... some of my earlier notes are past their use-by date. Iemma campaign launch, very old. Howard scared-of-election education funding promise, equally old. And- oh, that works.

I had a note scribbled on the bald Britney thing, but I'm certain that was done to death while I was looking the other way. Well, that, and the thing I heard on the radio about her being seen wearing a wig. What that said to me was that it wasn't some grand show of identity; I think that instead, it's entirely possible that she had an accident trying to wash that man right out of her hair - there probably isn't enough rinse and repeat in all the world to properly deal with K-Fed.

And from there to... hee! Public transport. Where, on a nice, long trip on my morning bus yesterday, I decided to do a little more on the story that I still haven't finished for shaysdays. So there I am, cheerfully writing freefall sapphic porn in cute purple ink, as the seats slowly fill around me.

As usual, the space next to me is the last left empty, and then this woman clambers aboard, plods over to where I am, and unceremoniously plonks herself on the seat. She looks - well, miffed, I suppose, at the whole entire world, and almost exactly like the kind of person who should wear a sign on their neck saying "ZOMGWTFBBQleftwinggayterroristagenda I R TEH CONSRV".

So, there's me, merrily scribbling away without the slightest care for how this could - just maybe - end unhappily. Until, that is, she glanced at the page. Cute purple ink, pretty writing, fantastically legible... and apt to make the small-minded explode in a plume of righteous intolerance. At this point, I doubt she'd read a word of it; I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, and decided to just finish the paragraph - during which time, she decided to have a bit of a go at reading it.

Yay.

Three more words, then two, then the end of the sentence and - finally - a fullstop, then - with a kind of fast yet delicate smootheness - I closed the book, capped the pen, and put both away, in favour of doing something a little less likely to make her arrange my booking in hell. So, DS in hand, I decided to just play whatever was in there.

Which, of course, happened to be Trauma Center; a fact that clicked somewhere between the ventricular fibrillation and the myocardial incision.

So, hee. I've never seen someone so capable of fuming about nothing for thirty-two minutes.

Oooh... shiny. Midnight just went by; it's cute the way that email from the previous day suddenly ticks over from times to the date in my Gmail inbox. Hee! But, seriously: it took my soul long ago. It doesn't need to bother with cute.

And now, notes. Oooh... these ones are better.

maggiebloome has made a new comm called dethdethdeth. No, I'm not telling you about it because she asked me to whyever would I do such a thing you must have me confused with someone else HEY LOOK A MEME!

(Go, join, and ask for leetle deth flags)

Lastly, it seems that Michael Hutchence's brother has decided to make some money for himself by selling bits of the estate on eBay. Why, yes: where once family of dead famous people made a mint by way of 'grief' and 'misery' and the 'true life story', now they can flog stuff on the Internet! It's almost enough to make me wonder if the Egyptian writing system they've not yet deciphered is really just saying things like "AUTHENTIC! Pharaonic grave goods! BID on these items, or BUY NOW for..."

And... that's about it for the miscellaneous texty stuff. Hooray! Next, some user research.

All is well, really, apart from the whole ennui thing yesterday. So, we have some observations, because I don't really have much to make into an actual post. Plus, it's warm. *melts*

inthatcantina, in which I play not_a_committee, lives again. And: it's fun. As much crack as ever, including screwing with the whiny jedi's mind. I'm also tempted to recycle a couple of my not_a_committee icons for general LJ use. Also, Shonda Rhimes has a lot to answer for. 'Seriously' is starting to find its way into my everyday speech, much like gorram and shiny did with Firefly. Seriously.

I finally got around to fixing the voice post bug in my layout, which was forked from an earlier version of Flexible Squares. I've half a mind to remake this layout by adding my own code into a fresh, up-to-date copy of Flexible Squares: the benefit of this approach is valuable S2 coding practice for when I start coding my own completely new layout. Also, I'm considering changing my web design tag into some more meaningful tags, including things for tricky stuff, HTML, CSS, accessibility, browser issues, things like that.

one_bullet_left had a link to an addictive wordgame. Neither she nor I are responsible for the results of clicking on that link, and any new addicts will only have themselves to blame.

Based on desperate TV experimentation last night, cricket is exactly as boring as I remember it. In fact, it'd take some fairly extreme measures to make it interesting. Dinosaurs, maybe.

Somewhere on the Interwebbernets, they recommend playing Trauma Center with a second stylus held in the off hand, for things like poking the buttons for the instruments or for injecting the patient with stuff faster. It works surprisingly well; I can get through the valve replacement in about 58 seconds that way. There's still some time to be saved there, but that can wait.

It looks like there's definitely going to be a game of Nomic happening at some point in the not-too-distant future. I'll make a comm when I have a name for one, and then people can join, and then we can play. This, of course, is good news for those interested in playing. There'll be an announcement when the comm is made.

I went searching for some of my old 600seconds posts a couple of days back, and I might as well repost the links here. I found two of them: this one, and this one, and then kept going through another two months of posts but found no more. There's also some Planescape, and that's it up until the end of July. I'll look through the rest of 2005 later; I thought I wrote more than that. Oh well. Also, there's plenty of fandom stuff in the 2005 posts, so ryttu3k, Doctor Who/Torchwood fic should be fine.

Also, I think I might be a little bored; while I was searching for my 600seconds stuff I absently coloured in an old bus ticket red, and just now I've unpicked a whole t-shirt hem one loose thread at a time. I'm picking apart the material itself now; if I keep going at this rate, it'll devolve into some kind of weird unweaving striptease, with me eventually left naked next to a pile of dissociated threads, a couple of bits of wire and some bits of paper coloured in with a red pen.

And... that's about all I can think of to post for the moment. If nakedness by way of senseless destruction does happen, I'll let you know.

So, I've updated the tags on my first 150 entries. Random highlights so far include:

• The parental types telling me that I had to go to see RotS, with their rationale being that "missing Star Wars is bad for you" : 25/05/05
  
  
• My answers to the Scientology Quiz : 27/06/05
  
  
• The phrase nolite alere trollos - don't feed the trolls - which I may just have to icon at some point : 26/07/05
  
  and
  
  
• The bubbles-on-nose incident, in which I had an overenthusiastic bubble bath : 07/09/05
  

So, yay. Fun.

In slightly more current news:

Heroes is steadily eating my brain. Last night I watched episode 7, and I may further indulge in its particular brand of superhero!crack later today. Hiro continues to win the Universe, suitably evil things happen to the characters, and I was rather hoping that a Certain Character (who'll remain tactfully nameless) was, in fact, dead, because she's as boring as a staring contest between a blueberry scone and a banana muffin, but no, it wasn't to be.

With all due respect, of course, to blueberry scones and banana muffins.

I may just have to make icons. Of Heroes, that is, not the scones and muffins.

Also, Trauma Center: Under the Knifecontinues to be frighteningly addictive. I'm up to the third operation on the Secretary of Health, having been caught up in the 'one more operation, one more operation' thing until about 4am. And that, because a little voice somewhere in my head said "hey, you know what'd be fun before bed? Some surgery!"

So, yes. That continues to go well. I have two different icons planned for that already, and there may be more afterward.

Also, I have a plan for a crossover icon which may or may not involve the word Miranda. Ooohh... subtlety. And I haven't forgotten your icon requests, I just haven't come up with much to do for them (or, when inspiration has struck, it's been unworkable).

And... that's about it for the moment. Especially since there's some fictional girders to deal with.