Three years since I fell off the face of the planet?

Does anyone live here anymore?

Life has changed a great deal.

I'm slowly working my way through the old stomping grounds.

It's a genuine pleasure to see a few familiar faces are still hanging around.

My love to you all.

Rho.

I broke my toe.

And it was such a stupid thing as well. I stubbed it - my left little toe - on the coffee table this morning. Right on the corner of the table leg. The nail is battered. There was blood involved. It hurt the way that stubbed toes do and I didn't really think much more of it. Though at the time there was a steady string of profanity to be sure. Then afterwards I prodded the toe to make sure it was still attached the way you do, you know? It went click. It felt better afterwards but now many, many hours later it's still pretty swollen and stiff. And sore.

Poor little pinky toe.

All in all? Not looking forward to putting on steel toe caps on Monday morning.

At the risk of being pelted with rotten veg; am I the only person disturbed by the news today?

The number 1 most wanted man in the west is dead. Okay. Good. But throwing street parties for what is basically a government sanctioned assassination. In which a number of other people, including a woman apparently used as a human shield have also been killed. And the body has been buried at sea? No trial? No autopsy to make sure you got the right guy? Just disappeared. Just shot dead on sight.

Something about it just doesn't sit right with me.

...'cos you ain't never gonna get even.

I need a root canal. I know I need one. My filling has fallen out (the result of a battle with Christmas toffee - damn you Thorntons!) and it's now staring to hurt. I need one. Fact. Have I gone for one? No.

Grow a pair and just do it Self!

Re-watching Battlestar Galactica.

Oh show.

33 remains one of my favourite episodes of anything.

--- -- -

And there there's this: images2.fanpop.com/image/photos/10600000/Team-Edward-James-Olmos-battlestar-galactica-10654268-760-428.jpg

Because it really did make me laugh.

Tron = Love

Bitch please. Do I look like an historian? No. I'm archaeologist. If you want me to work out the stratigraphic relationship between that there ring gully and the fucking boundary ditch with fifty billion postholes in between I can. In five minutes flat. You know how? I'll give you a clue. Because it CUTS IT! *headdesk* But, please, do not try to drag me into your fucking pointless waffle about the godsdamned historical references of the time. THERE AREN'T ANY! If there were. People like you wouldn't need people like me to do the bloody job. So. Put a sock in it. Go get another cup of tea. I'll have it done by the time you get back.

And Heaven save me from academics.

And has anyone seenn were my specialist squint went...

I have broadband again! Huzzah! Oh 'tinternets, never leave me again *clings*

Much, much has happened of late. But enough of that. Instead, let me tell you how much everyone in the world needs to go out and buy, yes actually pay for this game. Because it's beautiful for a start. Because the music is beautiful too. And because so much love and attention and tiny little wonderful details have gone into it that you simply have to admire it. Also, because old school puzzle games will forever rock my world. What can I say? I was raised on Myst.

Also, may I just point an accusing finger at everyone that prodded and prompted and out right begged (yes you, you know who you are) for that Spooks crossover fic? You bastards.

For those not in the know, I oh so foolishly signed up to a Spooks ficathon. And then proceeded to have lots of ideas but not actually write anything. Until last night. Now, I'm the mad proud creator of an epic roadcrash of a crossover that is so otherworldly AU crossover it's insane. Spooks, check. Sherlock, check. Alias? Check. The best bit is, I've not actually watched/read anything of these shows in.... an age. So the characterisation in places is a little like playing blindman's buff. Ho hum. All jolly good japes until someone walks into the coffee table and shins himself eh? I plan to try and refine/finish it some through the week.

Off to London at 5am. A gruelling journey of many stops, involving at least four taxis, two trains and some underground jaunts. Deep joy. It's unlikely I'll have internet again until next weekend as I think they're putting us up in some shitty student halls of residence and it'll only be extra weight to carry my laptop with me.

Have a good week all!

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 4-7 sentences on your LJ along with these instructions.
5. Don't you dare dig for that "cool" or "intellectual" book in your closet! I know you were thinking about it! Just pick up whatever is closest.
6. Tag five people.

It has been proposed that there is a symbolic content in the grave-goods buried with the deceased which reflect social identity and status on either side of the boundary between life and death, but little work has been carried out on the remaining elements of the burial ritual.

The evidence for paganism contained in place-names such as Thunreslau (Essex), containing the name of the pagan god Thunor, may indicate places of worship (Gelling 1978, pp. 158-61). However, there is no evidence that pagan religious practices took place at specified places and there is, at present, no archaeological evidence that such 'sites' formed a part of pagan beliefs, and some may have no religious significance.

The place-name elements that have been considered at length by many writers are normally divided into two groups, those containing the name of a god or goddess such as Thunor, and those which may mean a sacred place (Wilson 1985).

ARNOLD, C.J. An Archaeology of the Early Anglo-Saxon Kingdoms. London, Routledge, 1988.


I just sat down at my desk, it's the first book on the shelf right in front of me. There are more interesting ones, but this was right there. Fiction's over in the corner...

Tag anyone that's interested :)