but it hath good baths

[widget_alley]

This does, I realize, make me an irreparable dork, but, allow me to say:

Happy birthday, Francis Crawford of Lymond. You've done more for my vocabulary than any man living.

Comments

[hlaron]

Oh, that's unusual. :P (But I want to tempt you with it. I don't want you to fail all your classes, I guess, but no one around here reads Dunnett, and I need someone to rant at. Can you see my dilemma? Will check out The Tender Bar though, I feel obligated to, since I just found it on Amazon for fifty-five pence. And well done with the reversal of book temptation there. And on your mid-term results, colour me utterly unsurprised. (Incidentally, Greek? I feel an overwhelming urge to prostrate myself in fannish adulation.) )

Wait just a second, you have to send post in someone's name? Just what the hell is going on over there? Or are you speaking of registered post or something? I can wait till Thanksgiving (if I must *glare*), but this whole concept is disturbing to me. Are there whole arenas of the postal service that have previously occluded themselves from me? Or is America just weird?

Not so much, aside from marveling at all the explosions going on in the city centre, and descending on uneaten trick-or-treat sweets at my house. I did get to go to a game launch last night though, which was sort of fun. It's a game I would never, ever play (Need for Speed: Carbon), but there was free drink, and being Irish, I felt obligated, etc. I also found out there that, apparently, there are people whose job it is to stand about at parties looking pretty. That was a not entirely comfortable disillusionment. How about yourself, did you get up to hijinks?

Christ, I'd forgotten my ability to ramble at you was so well-developed. I blame tiredness. It's bed for me.