First you need to know about Tuscan Whole Milk and its fame.

Then you can read my thoughts on it: read more...

I think I'm going to cut down Shaded psis' maximum ranges again. About ten metres, plus one in exceptional circumstances, is plenty - possibly too much.

(Actually, I thought I already had changed it to ten... but Twine says differently. Bah. Probably dreamed I had, or decided to then forgot.)

This randomness brought to you by the Trying To Edit Other People's CSS Brigade. (Today I got called a CSS whizz, which is laughable. Depending who you compare me to, anyway.)

Shopping went ok for the others. We spent practically the whole day in Mcr. Slen got his Müttly Föe coat. I didn't get any of the animal pressies I came for, though I got something small for work. We almost didn't see the film because neither of them could "be arsed", but then they actually rethought.

Spoiler for Eragon: SNAPE KILLS VERCINGETORIX. (Not really, obviously, but the film was an absolute ton of crap - I'd heard it was bad, but the reports had been much understated! - and I recommend you don't pay money to see it, even to film pirates. ...It was refreshing to hear goodies with English accents and a baddie American, though. And the waverer's 'accent' was sliding all over the place, obviously an unwitting reflection of his loyalties.)

[It] is really, really sad that sex has become so idealized by our society that nobody holds any value in innocence and friendship any more.
--Nobleplatypus via Monakoza

Just a comment from an asexuality community I read; not by someone I know, but I thought it was nicely expressed.

And no, it's absolutely not a snipe at anyone who slashes any of my characters. I rather like the not-terribly-serious speculation - after all, for example, I've been writing something into Weft from early days. But I don't think anyone has completely identified what the something is yet. (Besides, with the way tiny bits of his backstory keep sketching themselves more clearly in my woozy brain, I may end up as confused as the rest of you. Forty or fifty years of oddjob assassination must leave you with a lot of stories to tell.)

I've been rather down today. First of all I was feeling completely thrashed this morning - joints, back, everything aching, tired, freezing and (I was told) looking really pale. I got woken up in the most inept way imaginable by my brothers, only a couple of minutes before Bandmate wanted to kick us out, and they proceeded to hurry me up by repeating obnoxious noises ad nauseam. ("Maybe you could cut me just a little slack, would it kill you to be civil?" as the song that's currently playing just happened to say. Heh.) So I was unhappy and grumpy all morning, just wanting to sleep and be warm.

Around midday Slen went off to London for a few days with dad. Having stayed up to talk to him because we seldom get an uninterrupted chance to do so (this occasion being no exception), I crashed into bed. I woke up still cold and less achy (though now my back's starting up again, for which - well, thanks, spine dude).

At a low point this afternoon, I was really, seriously wondering why I ever come out of the safety of my own head to interact with the physical world when all it ever results in is injury and humiliation, neither of which I enjoy. (Printers that don't print straight and a guillotine that doesn't cut straight were some of the culprits. Does it count as "a poor workman blames his tools" if I whine about my tremorful hands?) Then I wrapped some presents, further confirming my ineptitude with all things tangibly extant. Paper too short, unevenly cut, sellotape mishaps, much loud playing of Gamma Ray's Somewhere Out In Space album, which may have managed to help my mood.

I have to wonder if my body's seriously trying to tell me something. I've been craving terribly specific foodstuffs, which is usually a heavy hint from within. (Egg and onion rice with peas and spinach is the most recent, even though I didn't see anyone eating anything of the sort.) I suspect my body's had enough of the not-eating-anything superfun medical regime and wants to do the food reintroduction quitezoonzoonernowplz. Patience, spacehopper. It's due to end soon anyway, but I want to hold on and do these extra weeks since the doc said I could and since it'll miss out difficulties with Xmas - much easier not to be able to eat anything instead of trying to calculate stuff while everyone's all "roast potaters yay".

Hmm, satsumas. Or is that mandarin? Yes, mandarin I think. With yoghurt. Also fresh raspberries. (See what I mean?)

Slen's coat almost fits round my girth. It is too long for me, of course, but upon my name, it almost fastens! I may end up narrower than him! Which will be a very poor second to being as tall as him, but, well, genes. THANKS DAD'S SIDE, SCREW YOU.

I think I'll be ok mood-wise, but I'm not sure I won't still be ill tomorrow. We'll see. If it isn't my body rebelling, this not-quite-right feeling over the last few weeks may have been my immune system trying to fight something off. It's awfully tempting to give in.