Hello!
I have been fighting rabid computers all week. I got tired of the 3gb old-office-compaq heapocrap and fired up my Real Computer again. It worked! Then I switched it off to fiddle with something and it conked out completely. Bitch. I may switch it on again just to fan my feet. So I pulled le bichon compaq apart to fit a decent hard drive inside it and couldn't work out HOW. It is RIVETED TOGETHER. I am currently using it all open with its guts everywhere. I even went to PC World (next to that nasty corporate entertainment soccerball ground) and had a long chat with a geek who offered to pull it apart for me if I brought it round. These backroom fixers don't meet many girls, it seems.
BSG is jolly good, although I seem to be the only person on the planet who has just started it thanks to not having broadband. Therefore I am alone in all the fanworld and have read 99 spoilers this week already. That space pilot boi is very pretty, if a bit prim. I shall reply to the Doctor Who replies from last week, but I'm a bit off it at the moment because *sigh*. I don't think it's a terminal problem - look at BTVS 4 and the painfully stupid big-bad plot - but they aren't going to fix anything if they're still all so very much in love with themselves. Also the ratings. Thing is, it's not as if I'm pining for a golden age that never existed. I'm pining for last year.
Urm, went to volunteer some afterschool teaching and talked to another vol who was planning lessons. She talked and talked about worksheets and the organiser called us 'ladies' and it came upon me like a wave that I loathe teaching in all forms and the whole thing makes me hork. So that's another lucrative career buggered. I shall have to write novels. There's such a huuuge gap in the market for that.
BTW, it is hort. Wretched south-facing attic. I have windows opening both south and north and the damn air still mims about in the room doing 0. I'm wary of buying a fan in case the weather turns the next day and I never need it again. I have my feet in a bucket, though, which is good.
BSG is jolly good, although I seem to be the only person on the planet who has just started it thanks to not having broadband. Therefore I am alone in all the fanworld and have read 99 spoilers this week already. That space pilot boi is very pretty, if a bit prim. I shall reply to the Doctor Who replies from last week, but I'm a bit off it at the moment because *sigh*. I don't think it's a terminal problem - look at BTVS 4 and the painfully stupid big-bad plot - but they aren't going to fix anything if they're still all so very much in love with themselves. Also the ratings. Thing is, it's not as if I'm pining for a golden age that never existed. I'm pining for last year.
Urm, went to volunteer some afterschool teaching and talked to another vol who was planning lessons. She talked and talked about worksheets and the organiser called us 'ladies' and it came upon me like a wave that I loathe teaching in all forms and the whole thing makes me hork. So that's another lucrative career buggered. I shall have to write novels. There's such a huuuge gap in the market for that.
BTW, it is hort. Wretched south-facing attic. I have windows opening both south and north and the damn air still mims about in the room doing 0. I'm wary of buying a fan in case the weather turns the next day and I never need it again. I have my feet in a bucket, though, which is good.