been given new mac at work. it used to be a design mac for the people upstaris who needed to move big images around so it is veryveryvery fast. it also comes with a brand new (i think) super flat keyboard and a mouse that seems to have one button but actually has two buttons (a left and a right?! surely too much to hope for) and a scroller ball. i am practically shivering with glee. see, this is my problem. essentially i belong with a nice reliable PC which does what i want it to do, but unfortunately i just fancy the pants off apple macs i don't understand. god, it's beautiful. it's so beautiful and fast and the screen is SO HUGE! much bigger than is necessary. i have to move my head to look at both sides of it... but that doesn't matter, because it looks so pretty!

the downside of the move is that cumulus 5 (the rubbish program i do 90% of my work on) is not installed. so... i can't do any work at the moment.

sorry, did i say downside? it's brilliant. the real downside is that i can no longer rest my iPod against the front of my hideous but conveniently low monitor. i'll have to improvise.

also need to find myself a new background now, becuase my life on mars one got lost in the move. woe. also i feel new computers should have new backgrounds. fresh starts etc. though i did love that one... hmm. tricky. what i actually want is a non-time crash fifth doctor wallpaper, but the internet is not providing (or it is, but i don't like them. i like my backgrounds like i like my icons - covered in bees plain). have gone for tardis console instead. which is kind of awesome, but also a bit sad because, really, i wanted five. perhaps five is a bit retro really for mac-land. then again, perhaps i will just go home and screencap the cricket in black orchid. oh the dilemma.

today i went to the british museum with fiona, under the impression that it was the first time i'd ever been there. i was still convinced i'd never been there as i walked up to the entrance. once we got inside though and i saw the ceiling i realised that i'd been there at least half a dozen times and just forgotten absolutely everything except the glass ceiling. so - that was interesting.

inside, we took a look at the crystal skull (actually a 19thC forgery, not an alien artifact) and the american prints exhibition. this time the experience wasn't as galling as my 'blood and paper' at the v&a experience, mainly becuase there were lots of little information cards i could read, but as i passed by some enthusiastic gazers i heard the man say 'don't you think it's transcendent?" which first made me grin at the pretention and then feel sad, because whilst many prints were reasonably attractive the one thing none of of them were (to me) was transcendant. and i think that is my problem with art.

as we passed the shop i seriously considered getting myself a mug of a louis lozowick print (don't make the mistake of thinking i am educated person who learnt something from their trip - i just looked it up on the british museum website) and i was later struck how much more i would enjoy the print if it were a mug, rather than just a picture. i am genuinely drawn to dorky merchendise - mugs with important american lithographs, rubbers with shakespeare quotes on them, etc, and i think this is less to do with a desire to seem clever/pretentious in front of others (though this also) and more to do with my inate inability to cope with too many - things. things without any real relevence to me as a person. it's the 'can't find a single book i want to read in this enormous bookshop' syndrome. if i had a mug, i would enjoy it because it holds tea (functional and beautiful is good no matter what wilde says) and i would also enjoy the print because i'd look it at over and over again as i drank the tea.

the exhibition, by the way, is - fine. n.b. don't go to museums with me. it will only make you despair for the human race.

homehome tomorrow, which is nice because i haven't seen my mum for about a month and i haven't seen my brother for at least 5 (haven't even spoken to him, though i do get the odd text when doctor who has been particularly bad). going to take rose, even though it's only for 2ish days. need own computer... sad, but true.

not long to go now until that saturday and then the end. non-who people i hope you're enjoying this non-who posting, albeit silently. it's difficult to tell. ask a question about why the brig is awesome and the responses flood in, but there is silence on the airways otherwise. if you wish i'd just go back to talking about doctor who - well, i will soon, i promise.

really boring stuff that happened to me today
after that 'boris isn't really to blame but the tube is still rubbish' experience yesterday the piccadilly line was down again this morning. got in 40 minutes late. fantastic. not that anyone else was in, so it didn't really matter. watched some doctor who with five (kinda and enlightenment - i'm a time traveller, i point and laugh at people who watch their doctor who in chronological order) - very good. did some work. time passed. got home. discussed the "GAH! stopitstopitnow" scene in 'spot of bother' with anna. cleaned kitchen, singing 'dear prudence' to self on repeat (i don't do music properly. every so often i have these brief, intense flings with songs where i binge listen to them over and over again for about a week. this week it the turn of 'dear prudence'. i have no idea what provoked it). discussed potential dinner food. decided, invariably, on curry (god, i love curry. and dal. dal particularly)(the best thing about life after university is the curry. this may or may not be true. but i didn't like curry at all when i left university and now i make dave lister look like a man of varied tastes) ate the curry. watched the final episode of QaF. messed around the internet for an unspecified time. wrote this post.

planning on

n.b. i wrote those words a while ago and now i ca't remember what i was planning at all. clearly nothing very interesting.

too tired to write a proper post avec theme. three days. let it not be said that i have staying power. i have not.

must be trying secretly to off myself. it is twenty past one and i am very tired and i was very tired... pretty much every morning so far this week. the sensible person would have taken this tiredness as a sign that sleep pre-midnight is a good idea, rather than a sign to laugh at your mother when she calls up and tells a story about someone staying up till 11.30pm(!)

some things about today:
1. was given contract for official starting full time job today. hurrah! unfortuantely i am not sure where my passport is. i suspect not in this flat... which could be a problem, though i am actually going home this weekend so not that much of a problem. oh, i get seventeen and a half thousand a year, actually, rising to eighteen if i finish my probationary 6 months. that seems good to me *hard look at jo with her cushy ITV job...*
2. piccadilly line mostly down this evening. half an hour spent boiling in between green park and hyde park corner. really very unpleasant. damn you boris (to be fair to boris, actually a - this is the first time my journey has been substanitally delayed since he became mayor b - he doesn't actually have anything to do with it really).
3. whilst crammed into tube had the sudden urge to paint all my nails blue. this i did when i got home. rather exciting. haven't used nail polish for... as long as i haven't been in mcdonalds, which is about 5 years. (n.b. though whilst we were paintng the flat david did buy me some fries and a milkshake, but i dont think this counts since i registered that they weren't very good and also i didn't actually go into mcdonalds...)(shut up. it doesn't count)
4. watching a lot of old school!who recently. comments as brief as i can make them given former pledge. though there are lots of indications that the ship aint really canon (certainly not academy era), i really don't understand how you can possibly make sense of the master's really rubbish schemes unless you accept that he kind of wants them to fail. he does quite well in terror of the autons but it's downhill from there on in. vaguely embarrassing. adore five beyond all reason and starting to like three properly, which is good, though 6 parts is too many for any story (five understands this). additional - why is the brig so awesome? i can't quite put my finger on it, but everyone seems to love him and rightly so - i love him too, i just don't know why.
5. pretty tired. bed now i think (11.30?! haahhahaha... *dies from sleep deprivation*)

genuinely have something non-whovian to write about today, because i got on the jubilee line this morning and found a suspicious number of seats available. rock on, i thought to myself, and sat down in one of them and withdrew 'spot of bother' from my bag. there was some guy shouting, but i'd only just got on and i assumed he was just having a conversation with a friend still on the platform or something. this was not the case.

in fact, the carriage was mostly empty because this guy was holding an impromptu "AND THE LORD SHALL SMITE YOU" session. at nine in the morning. on the jubilee line. anyone with any sense had got off/moved to a different carriage.

for a while, i listened because it seemed rude not to and people doing unusual things interests me, and, to begin with, he just said some reasonably sensible things like 'you can just talk to god when you need him - that isn't good enough' etc. then he started telling everyone about how if you let a gay person touch you you would be contaminated with their evil (i wish i was exaggerating for effect) and that anyone who believed in evolution was crazy. all this at a substantial volume with appropriate quotations from the bible he was waving around and minimal pauses for breath. it was actually pretty impressive from a speech making point of view and completely un-ignorable though absolutely everyone around us was pretending they couldn't hear him. one of the big things london teaches you is how to ignore people. i frequently don't see people shaking charity buckets at canary wharf which is bad i know, but i am poor and they are there every single day. anyway, eventually i realised that he wasn't going to get off and i wasn't going to give up my chair, so i got out my iPod and turned oasis up as loud as it would go. i think this angered him, but it was difficult to tell because he was pretty angry about a lot of things. mainly the gays, i think. and the big bang.

as i got off, i wondered if i should say something to him like 'what do you really expect to happen? you're shouting in the tube - do you think, as a consequence, that the gays are going to renounce their wicked ways and the evolution theorists forget that rubbish?' but i didn't. which makes me feel like a bit of a measly coward. not that it would have done any good. and not that i buy the big bang, really. well, i do - but not that it just happened from nothing. strangely, i find, i do kind of believe in a kind of god simply because i find it more believable to believe in something that defies explanation beginning the universe from nothing, than trying to explain how suddenly something happened from nothing on its own. i quite like time loop theories of universe beginning, but that's because i'm a nerd and it kind of makes sense to me.

even with those fearsome powers of belief, i can't believe in organised religion though, which is a shame, because i'd really like to. i think my life would be better if i did. unless it made me rant at people who only wanted to read their mark haddon novels on the way to work. that would be worse.

so - queer as folk is really, really good. i'd forgotten how good. really, frustratingly, wonderfully good. it makes me happy. it makes me shout things like "nathan, you are such a twat", "just punch him in the face!", "just grab him and kiss him!" at the tv. nothing else really does... except that other program written by rtd...

i don't really have much else to say, i just thought the world should know it - russell t davies: you are an evil bastard, but i do love you. you write good. the acting lets you down a bit here, but basically it's excellent television.

had a brief look at old QaF roleplay... slightly in fear of what i might find there, but actually it's not bad. the voices sound right, it's just a bit... pointless. why bother writing about what vince was thinking during the episodes in which we all know exactly what he was thinking? the worst kind of fanfic.

i'm trying to pretend this is a totally non-doctor who type of post here (what? QaF is a completely different television program, what?), but it's not really working because the spirit is still the same blahblahblah i'm really enthused about something you don't care about etc. sorry. i'll go now.

p.s. dear vince, paul mcgann does count. love, me.

short account of day
woke up feeling like had just fallen down cliff face. forced self onto tube. watched some 'mind of evil' until the tube became too noisy at which point i switched to reading 'the time traveller's wife'. got to work. did some work whilst watching mind of evil (the master's kind of an idiot. really cool, but still an idiot who fell for the 'of course no one else is hiding in this van' trick) and then, later, whilst listening to BFA: Master (which i quite enjoyed, though if it is canon, the doctor is a complete bastard. and a coward. but it's not canon. so that's alright). left work. finished time traveller's wife at baron's court (stll many stops from home). listened to stephen fry's new podgram viz the beeb is excellent, and then read both free papers. absorbed very little except the story about how some kid got points for spelling 'fuck off' correctly (incidentally, i feel this is ludicrous) and also that torchwood series 2 was finally out on dvd. bought torchwood. got home. spoke to anna about books and stuff. had bath. sat down to write post.

about to watch QaF - for which both anna and i have rediscovered our love (though i fear i actually am vince now) - and make stir fry - for which i have discovered mild indifference coupled with a strange enthusiasm for using chopsticks.

all very exciting, obviously... this is why i do not usually recount my day. so - moving swiftly on. since i suffered 'finished book early' syndrome today, this post brought to you by 'some thoughts i have about books' (sponsors friends). to help - i have this meme which i have stolen from kassie_opias journal. (n.b. i realise this is not a proper post, but shhh, i set the rules here)

1) 10 books that you would take with you wherever you went
2) 5 books that you loved as a child
3) 5 books you are a bit embarrassed to admit you like
4) 5 books you want to read, are reading, or have on a reading list

1. since i had them to hand -


( from top to bottom (in no particular order) that would be... )

2. shorter unexplained list i think (ranging from very young to teenage. though obviously i loved lots of books as a child)
-the very hungry catapillar
-leicester squeak... counts things (insert proper title here)
-the jolly postman (i still love these books. my mum gave them away to someone and had to buy me some more for my 19th birthday)
-narnia etc
-those starwars novelisations

3. embarassing books-
-the princess diaries (anna says "really bad chicklit" but i'm not actually embarrassed by this)
-that torchwood novel i bought a month or so ago
-the van helsing novelisation david bought me. so bad it was addictive. i read it in one sitting.
-i really can't think of anything else. sometimes i'm embarrassed how many of my favourite authors are gay (see above), sometimes i'm embarrassed about how narrow my reading is (see above) but mostly i think a) i only read good books and b) i'm not even really that embarrassed about liking the princess diaries. they are good.

4. books i'm reading presently
-spot of bother by mark haddon
-LXG vol. 2
-tristram shandy (though i have mostly given up on this)
-dream eaters by... someone. (like tristram shandy i'm really not that keen on this, so it's kind of a cop out)
next book to read to finish off the five:
-paradise news by david lodge (still love the lodge books. might well make the top 10 list in a year or so)

in a general sense, i love books. i love the way they look and feel and obviously i often love the content. i admit, i am slightly drawn to the iLiad, or at least - i'd like to have a look at one, but it makes me sad to think of a world in which there will be no more books. i like having them around. and they look very nice against my wall.

i have a very short attention span and books usually keep me completely occupied (audio books are fine for when i'm really supposed to be doing something else, but i do like the visual stimulus as well). no other medium (except perhaps the great and glorious interweb) could keep me intrigued for days and days on end with no break. after several hours of tv, for example, i need a break. after about 30 minutes of just listening to music i need to do something else. the journey home today was terrible and i had to cast around for something, anything, both free papers, to read in the absence of a compelling narrative. in short - books are good.

so, with finale and the ensuing who drought drawing ever closer, i've decided to spend a week posting about things that aren't doctor who. my reasons being three fold:
1. i assume after the finale i will want to talk about doctor who a lot and pretty much nothing else
2. after that's over i will be forced to talk about something else because there won't be as much to say any more
3. all the people who know me in real life are getting kind of tired of all the who talk.

obviously there won't be no talk of of doctor who at all: it's just the ratio of doctor who to other stuff with be inverted.

to that effect, i bring you:

a short account of my day
woke up too early. travelled to hyde park corner on tube. watched a parade celebrating the 60th anniversary of israel whilst on the way to actual park. almost took free whistle but decided it would be dishonest given that i wasn't staying for the celebration. had picnic. wore new hat. was told by jo that i looked like the seventh doctor in hat. got very cross and said "no, fifth doctor" a lot. went rowing on the serpentine(?)/big lake. jumped in dashing fashion from own boat to boat of pedalo-ing friends then back again. didn't fall in. sucess! more picnic-ing. lots of hayfever. whole body aches from rowing. went home. washed pollen from skin. watched stolen earth for the third time. drank really bad wine (lindermanns - avoid it). sat down to write this post.

because none of that is really as gripping as might be hoped, i've also decided to give each of these (shall we say) advent days a theme. today's theme is the letter B!:

non fandom writing.
(because sometimes i do write stuff without time lords in it.)

this basically boils down into two distinct projects, both of which i am writing with my long suffering, new-who hating flatmate, anna.

project the first, you might remember from nanowrimo time, is a superhero chicklit dual-narrative novel entitled 'can't run in high heels', of which we currently have 50,000ish words. anna mainly writes our heroine, melody, who is a fake-superhero who bears a remarkable resemblance to anna herself (interest in shoes and books and fear of children) and i mainly write her millionarie playboy sidekick, harry, who bears a remarkable resemblance to the gay men i often write except he isn't gay. (yes, i should warn you - this is not high literature. it's just sort of fun and daft.)

i haven't written anything for this in a really long time (it's the master's fault - he gets into my brain.)(bastard), which is sort of embarrassing, but we have had a couple of brainstomring evenings where we've worked out large, reasonably complicated plot points so i expect that counts in some way. after reading all that agatha christie i thought up a really cunning red herring but it turned out to be superfluous and we had to cut it to stop the WHATISGOINGON-ness of the scene. erm, yes. it's fun. and daft. and i really should write it more because we totally have a plot and i find harry, at least, really easy to write.

( anyway, in case you're interested here are two excerpts )


project number two is slightly less credible, but strangely not a joke. to explain how it came about i'm afraid i will have to (yes, have to, dammnit) talk about doctor who again, briefly.

basically, when i was writing no longer hearing voices i made a few jokes about how boring/bad samuel richardson books are (n.b. they are, they really are). i told anna this because i tell her pretty much everything whether she wants to know it or not and i thought it was quite amusing how massively my brain wanted me to write about thigns that weren't sex, and we talked about how awful pamela was, and how a movie of it would be hilarious, and then she suggested we write the screenplay and make it good, and i said don't be ridiculous pamela is the worst thing that has ever been written and you cannot make it good, and we both went to sleep. then, independently, we spent the next day writing the screenplay in our heads and both arrived back home intent on really doing it.

so - yer, basically, we're adapting pamela for screen. god knows why. (ideal casting, btw: emma watson as pamela [her badness would just make it extra funny], dominic cooper as mr b). obviously it's going to be a pretty darned unfaithful adaptation because the source material is surprisingly dull given that its about a series of blundered rape attempts, and the last 200 pages have to go, but i think the movie could be pretty fun in a bodice ripping kind of way. have personally written the opening sequence, but it's not worth posting here. rather fun. haven't adapted anything before. haven't written any original screenplays either. not sure what we're going to do with it once it's done (though emma watson is going to RHUL and will therefore be subjected to pamela herself, so i could turn up one day and insist she read my screenplay... and then - who knows?)

nothing else in the works really, though i should really write, you know, a play, given that's what i'm best at.... what i have my degree in. but whatever. maybe one day.

so, that's what i'm doing with my time when i'm not thinking about doctor who. but for now - going to watch some doctor who, namely black orchid with five! and cricket! five playing cricket!

for some reason this makes me embarrassingly excited. you couldn't pay me to watch someone else playing cricket. but the doctor? yes! cricket! more cricket now! started watching on youtube because i needed to refresh my memory of how five talked, only to discover that the missing first part [not on youtube. why? why not?] was the bit with the cricket. fortunately peter has provided the dvd and all is well.

... anyway. until tomorrow.

dear people i know in real life: sorry. i am so sorry.

other people:

hello, what's this? could it finally be that porn written by your friend and humble narrator?

no, actually, i'm afraid it isn't. actually it's a sprawling, angsty, schizophrenic mess, longer than my dissertation, in which sex is the main plot device, though this is not reflected in the amount of screen time it enjoys.

enjoy :)

Title: No Longer Hearing Voices
Pairing: Five/Simm!Master
Rating: That would be NC-17, for the swearing and the darkness and, yes, actually, the sex too. wahey!
Length: God help me, it is 10,500
Summary: Post Time Crash, the fifth Doctor goes looking for the Master at the Ministry of Defence and finds him more damaged by the War than his ninth or tenth selves could have imagined possible.
Betas: were invaluable. Thank you. x_los prodded my plotholes until they went away and characterisation until it was a bit less bland, smithy161 pointed out that there were large bits missing and that the Doctor should only taste like cinnamon on the planet cliché. I didn't listen to them all the time, but hopefully it was enough of the time.
Some notes: Will edit this on Saturday if Harriet Jones isn't Prime Minister any more (will X-post after this. I apologise for the spam in advance). Also, whilst attempting to fix up the Moffat/Davies (incidentally, yes, i did read a porn like that once) plot holes I created loads of my own: please do ignore them if you think it's possible (except the seeing the paradox machine one - that's kind of there on purpose). Also also, I feel really genuinely bad for destroying the Master like this (though I blame LotTL a bit). Next time I promise to write something where he's happy, in control and killing people in an evil fashion.

( The Future Imperfect )

THE STOLEN EARTH IS GOING TO BE SO AWESOME.

i am actually afraid of the daleks. for the first time ever i feel the fear. amazing. so amazing it deserves a swear word. really fucking amazing. i love the cast and the simplicity of the writing and everything, everything is good.

... and now i should really go to bed or something.

spent the evening at the enclave with weekend who had heard they sold doctor who themed cocktails.

did they? yes, they did.
had i watched any of the episodes they were named after? no i hadn't, because 'earthshock' was mysteriously not available in real life despite being advertised on the website (woe). also, having consulted wikipedia, i have learnt that many of the cocktails were in fact named after eighth doctor novelisations, not tv stories. therefore i really really couldn't have seen them.
were they nice? some were. 'venusian lullaby'=very nice. also 'the mind robber' (which glowed in a mysterious green fashion and tasted of mint choc-chip icecream). 'blue angel', on the other hand, was one of the worst things i have ever drunk that didn't have medicinal value.
how was the bar in general? oh, very nice. attractive cosmopolitan setting. hunky male waiters in tight tank tops. lots of men, though strangely not many women. in fact, no other women at all for most of the evening...
so, it was, in fact, a gay bar- um, yes, pretty much.
did i know this before we arrived? ... i suspected it might be
did weekend know this? no. no, she didn't. but it was her idea to go there, so it's not like i lured her into soho and forced her to talk about doctor/master in a gay bar... though we did do that.

soho is a terrifying place, by the way. the enclave was, as i've said, really nice, but we were sitting at the window so we could see the rest of the street and directly opposite us was a place called the 'sunset cinema' where one could pay £14 for an all day pass to sit in the dark an watch several gay porn movies on repeat, next to that was an ann summers, and around the area various other dingy pubs with men hanging around outside groping each other. everything was a bit grimy except the shiny shiny gay bars, and all this only 5 minutes walk from leicester square.

an experience, i think.

rose is fixed. embarrassingly soon after i posted that 'i hate you apple geniuses' moan and embarrassingly quickly as well. my genius tried to humour me and fill out our 15 minute appointment slot by talking about updates and holding your laptop with two hands rather than one, but basically everything was fixed within 5 minutes. everything working well again. so... that's good.

doctor who not-fans feel free to skip the rest of this post:

who finale very soon. therefore - i present

the "how many times will jack harkness die in this finale*?" sweepstake.
so far, i think six, david thinks three, and anna thinks one and a half (with no mention of what the half might denote - maybe 'stet radiation' dead but still walking around) if you feel like playing, comment below with a figure* not already claimed :) the winner gets... the satisfaction of being right.

*not counting how many times he died in turn left, becuase that was a parallel universe.
**clearly you can have half deaths as well. two dead but not dead deaths makes one full jack harkness death.

just had a thought actually - which is that apart from the 2,000 years of dying underneath cardiff, jack doesn't really die that often in torchwood. that's pretty much teh only thing he has time to do in doctor who. anyway.

p.s. random question and kind of pointless since she's back and we'll probably just find out on saturday, do we think harriet jones was prime minister right up until harry saxon took over, just with dwindling power and respect? or did she get replaced (brown for blair) and then the whole party voted off in SoD?

every time i visit the apple store i like it a little bit less. just tried to talk to genius, only to be told that my appointment was half an hour ago, which i know because i arrived half an hour ago (well, 20 minutes ago but i didn't say that to them). anyway, apparently i should have checked in and if you don't check in then you don't exist. bcause my mac keeps breaking down i have actually been to the apple store quite often and this has never ever been the drill before. they're just toying with me now.

at least i have the internet.and a bottle of wine. a fun evening stretches ahead of me... though i was planning on taking the wine to emma's house and drinking it there rather than here. clearly mac-owners cannot be choosers.

p.s. so, charlie the unicorn 2 makes the first one look like a sensible, thoughtful quest narrative in comparison. it's also disappointingly un-funny, because they clearly made it with the intention of making the first one again only MORE CRAZY WAAAAHEY and it shows.

p.p.s. they're playing paul mccartney's banjo song. i thought apple were cool. dance tonight is not cool. and yes, i know its a mandolin. but really - it's a banjo, isn't it?

i tell you what - the english school system is, in many ways, a disgrace. here i am (in posession of two A* at english GSCE (lit and lang), an A at literature A level, and a 2.1 from a reputable university in english and creative writing) trying to formulate a put-down based on one character knowing english tenses whilst another does not, and it's practically impossible for me to do so because i myself have no idea beyond the basic past, present, future divides.

obviously this does not usually affect my day to day life. i can write and speak quite happily without knowing what tense i am writing in (i can write - simple present? i actually have no idea. i am writing is present continuous... what does that mean the sentence is then? both? neither? i just don't know) but it vexes (simple present) me to not know (infinitive). i realise (simple present) we weren't (past continuous?) taught because it clearly wasn't (again - past continous?) necessary and it would have (conditional) been very very dull, but i just thought (simple past) i'd point out (contracted conditional) that i would have appreciated (past conditional) being taught (present continuous) whilst my mind was (simple past) still malleable.

all of those may well be wrong. fortunately i choose very simple forms for my put down so they ought to be right. sigh.

why can't the english teach their children how to speak use their own language properly? it hurts my head.

stolen from smithy-

When you see this post, quote from Doctor Who on your LJ:

"We meet at last, Doctor *laughs* I love saying that!"

BEFORE:



very boring. not enough space for books/dvds/doctor who merchandise. (n.b. this picture is quite old. from our first week i think. we haven't been living like that for the last 8 months...)

AFTER:



shiny :) if you're thinking 'that red one looks really good' that's because ikea did it. that's the new one. the green and the orange, though, were lovingly hand-painted yesterday by yours truly pre-"turn left".

(n.b. that's a different tv, btw. we're good, but we aren't that good)

( and, of course, it wouldn't be a pic spam without lots of other pictures as well (more shelves, alex drake impressions, and my name. in a book. my name in a book) )

look, its one of those fill in your answers things - stolen from my newest lj friend dora492 *waves*

( ooh meme )

not sure i really understood what was going on in this week's episode but i don't care because ( blahblahblahspoilercakes )

in other news: painted flat. painted bookcases. painted hands and feet and waist and ears also (these by accident). green mostly, so for a while i looked a bit like i was turing into the hulk. underwhelming photos to follow. all looks very nice. except my hands, which are still kind of green.

1. Go to your desktop and press the Print Screen key.

2. Open a graphics program (like Picture Manager, Paint, or Photoshop) and do a Paste (CTRL + V).

3. Post the picture on your blog. You can also give a short explanation on the look of your desktop if you want. You can explain why you prefer such a look or why it is full of icons. Things like that.

( work computer rather than rose because it's ever so *slightly* more interesting )