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I know the gun isn't loaded

Tomorrow the damp in the house gets inspected by an independent firm. Then we will know. And that is all I am going to say about that.

I can't wait for the next six weeks to be over, then it will be done. Or at least it had better be.

I will ring the fuckwit solicitor tomorrow morning and tell her to get it sorted out. I'm still angry that she can't work out 10 per cent of 118,000 and will have to remember not to be sarcastic.

I have a new reading habit. I read decorating manuals like they are porn. I bought Real Homes this week because it came with a free reader makeouts magazine. Jesus. I used to read The Economist and New Scientist and Q and now I slaver over Homes and Gardens.

It's a weird day today. The second Thursday in August every year the A-level exam results come out. Sad though it is, eleven years ago this day was one of the best of my life because I'd finally *shown* those bastards...

I'd hate to think that that's going to be the peak of my academic achievement for pete's sake, but I fear it is *g*

I am presently sitting in the office, walkman on, listening to Icelandic weirdness so that I can honestly claim that I can't hear the phone. It's not going to be any question I can answer and they should know that the entire backbench team is down the Coach and Horses getting pissed at this time of night.

Life here is slow as molasses at the moment. I'm working seven days in a row, so not much exciting stuff will be done, save for the requisite amount of house nagging. If I want to get in by September 7, I have to start nagging tomorrow.

God, I wasn't going to mention that, was I. I am obsessed, and not in the good way.

I've been reduced to reading short stories because I don't have the patience for novels right now, so I got a collection called '999' which aims to do for horror what Harlan Ellison's collections did for SF.

I've read three or four fantastic stories in there but -- shocking though it is to admit it -- I'm bored by the gotcha endings *g*



Aug. 16th, 2001 03:30 pm (UTC)
Yes. Exactly that.

This is the stated aim of the editor whose name eludes me. I haven't read the Powers yet, I wasn't over-keen on the Gaiman.

It's actually less horror than ghost stories and Twilight Zone-ish tales. There's one about a murder that I *swear* has either been ripped off or else the author in question has ripped it off from someone else because I knew who the murderer was immediately. Not in an "I can guess this" way but in an "I've read this" way. Yet the peripheral stuff seemed different.

God that's vague. *g*

Anyway, there's a smart little Michael Marshall Smith story in there which unfolds with a deadly precision but has his usual faults of overelaboration and weak, weak endings. Have any of you read Michael Marshall Smith?

I wish, just for bloody ONCE, I could talk about books to someone who lived in the same city. *g*

Aug. 16th, 2001 03:43 pm (UTC)
Re: *snerk*
Looking up table of contents on Amazon ... oh yeah. The Gaiman's okay, but nothing special. How's the Kim Newman?

I've read a few MM Smith short stories in Year's Bests, I think, but none of the novels. Vaguely recollect liking the stories. Have at least one of his novels, which is no guarantee I'll read it anytime in the next ten years. Someone else was recommending him -- Ptero?
Aug. 16th, 2001 03:51 pm (UTC)
Re: *snerk*
I wish, just for bloody ONCE, I could talk about books to someone who lived in the same city. *g*

Because clearly no one else in London is interested in books.

*dodges away, snickering*

I've met some cool locals through the Buffistas; one of them is a guy who works at the British Museum, IIRC.

Aug. 16th, 2001 04:48 pm (UTC)
Re: *snerk*
Oh... just... :P to you *g*

No people that I know, dammit. My friends are all either (a) not readers of books (I know, I don't understand it either)
(b) Have children and thus only read "Bob The Builder" for the moment

People at work all read terribly worthy fiction or non-fiction books by their *friends*. Such is the life of someone who works with a bunch of well-connected north London trendies.

As for Michael Marshall Smith, he has the greatest set-ups and then the last third of the book is always a disappointment. Witness "Only Forward" (for which he should be paying Gibson half his royalties) and "Spares", which is much better but still goes "fneh" in the last quarter.

Aug. 16th, 2001 06:05 pm (UTC)
Re: *snerk*
You need new friends or a new job with people who read more interesting stuff. "Well-connected north London trendies", *snerk*. Sounds awfully like SoMa here in SF.

Except now SoMa is full of tumbleweeds and leftover egonomic chairs. Wonder if the clubs and rehearsal spaces will come back?
Aug. 17th, 2001 05:47 am (UTC)
Re: *snerk*
Or just save all of your interesting conversation until Jet, Fi and I get there. Not that I'll be coherent, but, you know, Amanda and Fi will. (Aren't they always?)

Aug. 17th, 2001 10:14 am (UTC)
Re: *snerk*
Fi will be coherent. I will undoubtedly be on Indiana-time and may lapse into narcolepsy. I'll be paying attention -- with my eyes closed!

Kari, the most intelligent conversations I have in this building -- where I spend 40+ hours a week -- are with a guy who works in the mailroom. Sorting mail. So I feel your pain.

- Amanda