Last night's metres: 130. Beaten last week by 5.
As we'd just missed the bus (it doesn't matter HOW early we try and leave) we decided to walk back. The scenery looks a lot different when you're walking. We ended up following a trail of white paint that was dribbled on the floor all the way home, almost. At one point it had been dribbled into the outline of a person. "A giant's been murdered!" said I.
"It's a very funny shaped giant," said Alison.
"He's been beaten to death!"
We were also passed by a man who was humming rather ominously in an about-to-explode fashion...
During swimming we also ended up discussing
Pirates 3, including what happened to Ana-Maria, Liz not being irritatingly feisty, and crabs that Should Not be rocks (& vice versa). All in all, quite a randomly entertaining evening.
Paul and I went to the pub for tea, which turned out not to be that good an idea. They apparently do a limited menu after 10.00, meaning "nothing fried or grilled". So, actually, their claim of providing a full menu until 11.00 is a big fat lie. I have half a mind to write to the Wetherspoon news magazine and indignantly ask the editor to fix my problem. :P
Anyway. Last night I remembered the golden rule about reading things on FFN - always remember to set the rating filter to 'All'. I'd forgotten that it defaulted to 'G - PG-13' in order to pwotect the childwen. It's usually the case that the better writers will have higher-rated fics (because they swear or something) and hence, you're more likely to find something readable.
( Some ramblings about FFN. )Now that little rant is over with, I'll get back to the point of the entry. Not that there was one, really...
Um. Yes. I was deathly tired this morning so ended up buying coffee. Since I burnt my tongue on my cupasoup yesterday I couldn't drink much of it until it cooled down, but I let it cool down so much I only managed to drink about a quarter of it. I can't
stand cold mocha; it's not quite as bad as cold drinking chocolate, but certainly a close second. My retching hatred of cold drinking chocolate comes from deep-seated psychological issues, incidentally - my maternal grandmother apparently used to force-feed me cold cocoa. Until that point, my mother said, I used to love milk. Afterwards, I hated it. I still can't drink it to this day and only have it on cereal...
To make up for that, though, I had a Pret croissant, which was lovely and warm and crisp. Yum.
At least it's Friday tomorrow.
Work is thin on the ground this morning (lots of people in, most of them back off leave with no hearings and subsequently not doing any work) so I'll probably surrepticiously work on
Rain Will Make The Flowers Grow if I can. I need to tweak the second chapter, and make the third one a bit longer. It's currently entirely a Daniel introspection thing which jumps all over the place and doesn't flow. It's possibly a little ambitious of me to try and get into the head of a character I don't know that well, but we'll see how it goes... With the exception of
Sunset Blvd (which is exceptional in most cases of my fandoms) I don't usually start fanficcing until at least the second or third season, by which point I'm thoroughly drowning in it...
Need to get back into fandoms. All of 'em. There is ALWAYS room for more fandom.
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yoshi, 
