I buy my coffee as whole beans from a woman at a market near where I live – Merton Abbey Mills as Collier’s Wood. So I was along there today for the vanilla and cinnamon coffees I depend on, and it turns out that she has another semi-regular customer who knows me. She didn’t get the person’s name, but apparently, there’s a woman I know who looks a little bit like me, with an apparently similar manner of speaking who shops for coffee at Merton Abbey Mills.

Anyone reading this want to put their hand in the air, because I’m baffled?

Attention conservation notice: whinging.

It’s not often I find myself longing to get back to work on Monday, but frankly, the weekend is half-over and so far, it has pretty much just sucked. Fin was unwell yesterday, so I didn’t get to see her. Then I fell asleep earlier than I meant to, and wasted half of yesterday evening. I went to get a smoothie for breakfast today – my plums had gone off, despite being all of four days old. Then our ADSL router broke – we’re back to “hand round the broadband” until we can get a replacement. But I spent most of the afternoon trying to fix it, and not working, as I’d planned before determining that it had died. So I stayed in to catch up, rather than go to the pub and see my friends.

After three hours of work, I still can’t get CSS to do what I want. I’m getting closer, but I reckon I’ve got another couple of hours work to do. Except that, because Fin had to rehearse today, I’ve got to go get a bus to Wallington to see her. She has to rehearse tomorrow, as well, so I’m not even going to get that time with her. I try really hard not to resent the fact that her bands take away almost every Sunday and ever other Satuday, but some days it’s easier than others.

Oh, and it turns out I have no money . At all. I have only debt. It’ll probably be May before any of you see me out and about again. I’m not even planning to go out to celebrate my birthday in a couple of weeks.

Good night.

In reference to that last post: the more absurd and hateful I sound, the less likely I am to be serious, even if what I’m talking about is a serious subject. I overplay bile for comedy. I am sorry if you do not find it funny. I am not going to stop doing so. I do not hate Americans or any other nationality, race, colour, or creed. I do loathe the American government, although I also loathe my own, so don’t think you’re special.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled cheap laughs. Please stop e-mailing me.

I want America off the face of the planet. Scoured clean. Devoid of life. Gone. It seems that this is the only way we’re going to be free of utter barbarism like this. Indifference to civilian casualties is inexcusable. Indifference to casualties among your own press is unforgiveable. Anyone got any nukes they can spare me?

Spent last night sitting in the lounge watching TV with Andrew and Marysia, while working on the 9A redesign. When I first suggested that I might look at re-designing this site in CSS (as I have, albeit with an off-the-shelf template) someone e-mailed me to say that once I did, I’d never go back to tables.

They were right. Sure, I had a bit of frustration on the way, but no more than I’ve had from table-based designs in the past. But the page code is about half the size that the table-based version was, and is much, much easier read and plug things into – the old style is a nightmare when it comes to breaking things out into separate chunks to be included/modified with PHP. This will be a piece of piss. Tonight, I’m going to work on the new, context-sensitive site nav, if I have the time. I seem to recall that I have it mostly written, it’s just a matter of making it pretty. Which will be easy, thanks to CSS.

No, there was no actual interesting content in that post. Piss off.

Well, not literally. But I’ve just re-joined a gym, after eight months. (I went to another one a few times around Chirstmas, but it just wasn’t convenient enough for me to get to regularly.) Today was my induction. Didn’t have time to do anything like a proper workout afterwards – had to get back to the office, but I took a quick spin on all the machines I used to/intend to use reguarly, just to see how much things had changed.

Note to self: never, ever go eight months without going to the gym again.

I’m a complete wreck. I’m not quite back at square one, but I can see it comfortably from here. If I can get back to where I was inside six months, I’ll be doing very well.

God I’m tired – been wandering about London with Fin today, half re-creating our first date – swap the British museum for the arty French film, and throw in a park in the rain, and we did the rest. Not by design, but a happy co-incidence, anyway. But I’m back in the flat, an hour to kill before I go to meet her after her rehearsal – just enough time for a shower and a whiskey and it’s down to work. I’ve got to hit this script hard tonight – nail the events to the pages and square it all in my head so I can write it up in the next week. Wish me luck.

Illuminations. They still don’t ship/accept orders from outside the US. Why not? Because they’re bastards, that’s why. Why is it that the US gets a store like them, and we get fucking Wax Lyrical?

Shut up, son, and keep sucking.

I sat down to write last night – the story I’m doing with Fin, for Comics2003. We’ve talked about it some, and the notes I had for it were “Scary Trees and Edwardian Costumes”, and some vague notion of riffing of Bronte, very lightly indeed. Before I was halfway done last night, I found myself back hurriedly away from writing an incestuous Father-Daughter relationship which had crept out of my subconcious.

As it is, my notes so far have, in caps across the top “A story about blasphemy. Pervert Sex in 1890’s yorkshire.” and, for reasons that made sense at the time, I found myself researching Mary Shelley’s short fiction, and the myth of the wandering jew.

Oh, and google image search doesn’t bring back any photos of hanging corpses.

I think something may be wrong with my brain.

Shattered, again. Another weekend spent fiddling with computers. People mock me when I complain about this, and to an extent, it’s true – I like to do it. But, and this is the important bit – it feels like work. It isn’t relaxing, it’s tiring, and sometimes stressful. It isn’t how I want to spend my evenings and weekends. Friday night, I’ll reap the benefits of for some time to come, so that’s fine. And Fin’s computer needed fixing. But I hope to god that I’m done now. Next weekend, I’m doing nothing. I may not even check my email.

Yeah, right.