100 of my favourite words

Audible, vanilla, Pimlico, undulate, irregular, obfuscating, Machiavellian, dimpled, squish, Tavistock, swatch, cherubic, Edwardian, dirigible, wriggling, diagnostic, bollocks, meander, maelstrom, heinous, plethora, veiled, grotesque, protagonist, ethereal, basilisk, turquoise, metaphysical, submission, shill, querulous, muck, grumble, hedgehog, hexagonal, squirrel, webbing, tatters, musings, polymorphic, sulphur, tenacious, convex, pugnacious, interrupted, hysteria, peonies, plebeian, screech, onomatopoetic, potential, voluptuous, bumblebee, click, clatter, sinuous, rutting, tenuous, silken, exquisite, bulbous, fucked, neologism, spate, telephonic, actuality, blasé, uncouth, unmitigated, exasperation, blatant, horrific, rhododendron, tattle, bickered, metamorphosis, lipstick, apocalyptic, truncated, unintelligible, breakfast, sophomoric, callow, severed, erratic, melancholy, distaff, demimonde, treacle, eclectic, merriment, imbibe, bleached, wintry, whipped, embittered, trite, contrariness, abhor, abides.

almost lifelike

Have I mentioned recently how much I love The Onion?

Because I really, really do.

the Saturday nines

Nine random thought-groupings for a rainy Saturday afternoon:

1. Alcohol (and the lack thereof): Under no circumstances are any of you to play the Pajiba Drinking Game with the review of 27 Dresses. There. I've said it. I now take no responsibility for any forthcoming hospitalisations. Also: I haven't had anything to drink in the entire month of January, it started off unintentionally but warped into part of my detoxy thing. I'm slightly worried by the fact that I'm impressed with myself for this.

2. My "diet" hasn't failed yet: I've been doing ludicrously well: in the last *checks diary* two and a bit weeks I've lost about 7lbs. Go me. Actually I've surprised myself by eating better and more cheaply since I've been on this mini health kick. Plus: apparently I'm an awesome cook and master of the "I have five things left in my house let's make something that is tasty, filling and nutritious" game. Now, normally I'd go back to my old ways now because I'm back at the top end of my "spiritual weight" spectrum but I don't want to do that, I'm kind of enjoying this whole "feeling healthy" malarky.

3. The "boyfriend" quandary: I really really hate the term "boyfriend". It sounds so twee and teenagery coming from someone of my age (I'm sure there's an age when it becomes applicable again, but I'm not at it). I do however like the term "sigoth" and may have to use that for the next Mr TheOdd (in the event that there is one before I hit the magical age when I can use "boyfriend" again), it's quirky and sounds very much like my favourite unit from Warhammer 40K, which makes me smile.

4. My new cat is an ungrateful brat: I put Plantet Earth on last night and didn't watch the rainforest episode like I wanted to but instead chose the great plains episode so that she could see the lions. Did she appreciate it? Did she hell. She did rather enjoy watching the fish on Blue Planet though.

5. Willpower: Get this: apparently I have some! Madness I know. I always thought I was lacking the necessary glands for feats of self control but I have done remarkably well on that front recently. My normal "can't say no" vices are: cakes and candy, boys, insanely frivolous purchasing of things I don't need, alcohol and watching TV rather than being productive. So far I have resisted them all.

6. Shhhh don't tell anyone: But I'm working out on an almost daily basis and actually enjoying it. Once I get into the habit of blocking off an hour of my evening then I won't notice that I'm missing valuable sitting on my arse time and will hopefully continue. With any luck by the time Spring is in full force I'll have the fitness level of a normal human being and may actually be able to go running.

7. My "to be read" pile is scaring me: I have thirty books that need reading now, five RPGs on my shelf that I haven't even started and some box-sets crying out for attention. For this reason I have been banned from shopping in February, if I come home with DVDs, books, CDs, video games or clothing of any kind they are either getting returned or given to charity by my housemates. I'm hoping the whole "willpower yay!" thing is going to kick in here.

8. A blast from the past: My childhood best friend contacted me out of the blue last night, we saw each other on a daily basis from 8 until 18 when I left for college after doing something that probably should have classified me as "world's biggest bitch" but was actually an act of pure altruism if you knew the back story. She seems happy and entirely less neurotic than I remember her. Aces!

9. I cannot stand my shitty job: Despite having a busy day one Thursday for the first time this year (on a semi related note: who the fuck decided to class bees as livestock? Do you have any idea what a hassle I've had with these fucking bees? Seriously: I'm the world's biggest slacker and I've even been online today on the second day of my four day weekend trying to get this sorted out) I have nothing to do and it's killing me. I'm seriously considering dropping out, working in a bar for seven months and living like a student again. I know that's not exactly financially viable what with my tattoo expenditure and all but I am going to start looking for other jobs as well as applying for my masters. That way if the course falls through (likely as I can't seem to get started on my aptitude assessment, still; two months after receiving it) I will know that I'm not stuck there.

what the...?

I swear to God he's motherfucking psychic.

I haven't heard from the boy in literally months. Zip. Nada. Nothing at all. This evening I finished my self-indulgent artwork which, yes, is on the subject of the ex Mr TheOdd, and as I set down my pencil and proclaim to housemates "It's finished!" my phone lights up with a text message.

Guess who?

Like I said fucking psychic.

Side note: He's actually stored in my phone now as "the ex Mr. TheOdd" because I am now incapable of thinking of him any other way. I'm actually not sure he even has a name any more. Weird.

cerebral, apparently.

Quizlaw linked to this nifty little application. I must say I'm rather impressed.

Apparently my little slice of the interwebs reqires a higher reading level than Pajiba, Quizlaw and Webster's Is My Bitch (three of my very favourite places)... I wonder if this rating was determined before or after Ranylt's fabulous review?

ps. Proper update coming soon, I've had kind of a mad few days so bear with me.

an Alex by any other name

A piece over at Jezebel this week on names a guy should never call you (personally nothing gets to me other than any variation on “crazy” a favourite of the ex Mr. TheOdd), as well as the fact that a large number of people have been calling me Miss O’____ all week (name change official – hurrah!) got me thinking about the matter of names, how we refer to ourselves and others. This is kind of an entry about the ex Mr. TheOdd also, as he had quite a large influence on me as far as names go.

My nicknames past and present

I have an inherently shortenable name. Alexandra, it turns out, is absolutely replete with possibilities for, how shall I put it? “Mangling”. I will state for the record, right here and right now, that I love the name Alex. I love that it’s unisex, disyllabic and has an Xtra Kool X at the end. Plus: there are hundreds of us, it works fine for a kid and a grownup alike and nobody spells it wrongly. Unlike….

Lecky

Nobody calls me this any more. And by “nobody” I of course mean “both my parents as well as my friends from high school” if I had my way it truly would be nobody. The people who do call me Lecky (a name that makes me cringe) are militant about it and point blank refuse to call me anything else, unless it comes with air quotes. They will sometimes shorten it to Lex though.

I was given the nickname after an ex (ie. current) girlfriend of my Father’s. He’d already decided, pre-conception, that I would be called Alexandra (and incidentally, would be female) and as soon as I was born he named me “Lecky” which stuck… and is yet another reason I hate the man.

I mean seriously.

There are some members of my family (and I’m talking close relatives) who, after twenty two years, still cannot spell this particular nickname. There are far more wrong spellings of it than I would have ever thought possible. Also, people use it on cheques. Not too bright as all my accounts are under my full name.

I kept the name all throughout elementary and high school (as well as a wide array of bizarre lengthenings including, but not limited to: Leckifer, Elecebeth, Leckyzandra, Lecticia, Lectoria oh and Leckerbocerglory. My friends are odd, this I know. One still insists on lengthening my name out, at the moment I’m Lexagonal, Lexophagus or Lexonical depending on her mood). It was University when I finally managed to shake it off and moved full time into…

Lex

My Father’s second wife Carolyn named me Lex because she, like any right thinking and sane person, hated the name Lecky. Of course originally it was “Lex Luthor” but let’s skip over that. Most people shorten Lecky to Lex now if they still call me that.

When I got to university I introduced myself to people as Lex, having never ever been called Alex by anyone it would have felt weird changing completely, and so that’s how anyone I met in my first few weeks of Uni knows me. I say “my first few weeks” because anyone I met after the ex Mr. TheOdd knows me as Alex. See below for the reasons why.

There is one notable exception to the rule though and that is my Biologist friends: My ex flatmate S calls me Lex despite having met me at the very end of First Year, all her friends call me Lex too because she is a vile harpy who has no respect for me or how I wish to be known. I’m kidding. Mostly. Although even if I do introduce myself to someone completely new while she’s around she will immediately jump into the conversation and correct me, invariably they end up calling me Lex too and I die a little inside. Her reasoning is as follows: there are four other Alexes in that particular group and it gets confusing. That’s the extent of it, I’d complain but she’s surprisingly determined on this matter.

Other than introductions sabotaged by S, everybody now calls me…

Alex

Before University I had one Physics teacher and three P.E teachers that called me Alex. Mainly because they hated me. But other than that I had never been known as Alex before. Upon meeting the ex Mr. TheOdd on the first afternoon of University I, of course, introduced myself to him as Lex. He, in turn, looked at me, frowned and replied “I’m going to call you Alex” and it stuck.

I confess that I had always wanted to be an Alex, but changing your name in high school is nigh on impossible and I’d always had a sneaking feeling that I wasn’t “cool” enough to be one (yeah… maybe we should skip over my past self worth issues). It turns out that one person (granted with the charisma of about twenty – the ex Mr. TheOdd was damned charming) using it stopped me from feeling like I was playing pretend and made me able to actually own the name I was born with. I know it’s terrible to be pleased at someone deciding they hate your name and hence rechristening you but I still can’t help it.

Lexie

Two people have called me Lexie in my time. One was my first Mr TheOdd, D, and the other is my amazing name lengthening friend from a couple of paragraphs up.

Anyone even considering calling me this now is liable to get one of the following ripped from their body: right eye, throat, spleen, spinal cord. Their choice of course. As the ex Mr TheOdd said (sorry this entry is rather “him heavy”) “It sounds like you should be entered in Crufts” and loathe as I am to say it: I agree with him.

Pet Names

This section goes some way to explain why the “names guys should never call you” thing got me thinking as most of the pet names I’ve ever had have just seemed slightly… off.

The ex Mr. TheOdd had a rather interesting take on pet names – he started off with the cutesy diminutives but about a year into our relationship he pretty much liked to call me things specifically to piss me off, getting slightly better once I resigned myself to it and played along. I started out as Pumpkin or Cherub (excuse me while I go and throw up, back in a sec) and then moved on to… Worm.

Does anyone else think that’s kind of offensive? I mean, it’s not just me right? It was said in an affectionate way and everything but my attempts at explanation as to why it bothered me were brushed off with the statement that I was a “crazy lady”…

That name stuck with me for a year and a fucking half.

Worm eventually became “bee” (along with the notion that I could literally fly and was fuzzy with black and yellow stripes… this man is currently doing a PhD in cancer research – I weep for humanity) which in turn led to “bug” a name I have it on good authority that he now uses for his new torture victim (or should that be “girlfriend”?). I don’t know about you guys but finding out that the fairly unusual pet name my new guy is using for me once belonged to a former beau would leave one hell of a sour taste in my mouth…


And that’s me, and all my incarnations in a nutshell. I confess that I act differently depending on what name people use for me – perhaps it’s something to do with the expectations tied to me from the period of time when that name was used, perhaps it’s something more elemental than that. But there we have it.

Oh, and my next entry is going to be about shoes (more ex Mr. TheOdd ranting there too unfortunately, it’s all tied in with a pair of black stilettos you see…)

a letter to my brand new pair of purple leather boots

Dear My Brand New Pair of Purple Leather Boots,

I'll admit it, at first my attraction to you was purely physical, my eyes were caught by your glorious amethyst colour and I was reeled in by your cowboyish vibe. To be honest, I thought it was fleeting - a passing crush that would be over just as soon as I tried you on and found that you didn't fit over my calves, like so many pairs of boots before you. I was skeptical, after all - I had already bought four pairs of shoes on that fateful Saturday (God, was it only two days ago, Boots? It feels like a lifetime) and surely my luck could not be that good?

But as we know, I was wrong. And when my flatmate offered to buy you for me as a belated Birthday gift it seemed like we were fated to be together.

I know that it was risky, taking a chance on you that evening. Pub crawls take their toll on even the most familiar girl and shoe relationships but you stuck with me, and for that I thank you. Miraculously your flat soles allowed me to not only wear a short skirt (my first since the age of eighteen) without feeling sluttish but also kept my legs warm even on the walk back to a random house at 2am. I am so glad, Boots that I did not overlook you for your high heeled counterparts, seductive as they were. Even though you are flat, and my legs are so very, very short, you still gave me the confidence to hook up with a cute boy and you prevented the embarrassing drunken stumbling that so often comes with high heels.

Despite a couple of mis-steps, like when I stepped too hard down on my left foot before your leather had softened and convinced myself I'd broken a toe, you've shown me that not only are you beautiful but also reliable. No other pair of new shoes would have lasted as long, or remained as comfortable the next morning as I trekked the three miles back to the second pub we visited in search of my lost phone. Walking along the riverside blinking into the early morning Sunday sun I thanked you for being comfortable to allow large amounts of hungover walking and for being casual enough to prevent passers by from assuming I'd been out all night. You saved me from the walk of shame, Boots and I'll never forget that.

And now, as you accompany me to work, breathing new life into my standard skinny jeans and vest combo, I feel the time has come to tell you this: I love you, Boots. I promise never to surrender you to a boy's flat out of embarrassment as I did with my suede slingbacks or to donate you to S. Please, say you won't fall apart in a week's time.

Yours in style and comfort,

Alex

ps. Do you also come in teal?

Look, it's not you. It's me.

Inspired by several sources (Jezebel's newly emerging series, Manda's Friday tradition, some comments on the state of my mortal soul and my inherent love of lists and talking about myself) I've decided that there are some more things you must know about me, Internet, if we are to continue on. And so in a crazy amalgamation of my inspirations I present:

Fifty things you probably will never need to know about me, handily split into manageable bitesized chunks, but nevertheless will ensure that you will know me better than 90% of my general acquaintance by the end of the post.

...about the way I look
1. The pendulum of my self image swings wildly between "I'm hideous" and "Holy shit I'm actually rather pretty" with literally no mid-arc point of "meh". There is no reason for this. And contrarily I actually feel better about myself when I compare me to others.
2. I am ludicrously vain, I watch myself walk past in mirrors, shop windows, metallic surfaces of any kind. If it's reflective I will check myself out in it. This is reflexive.
3. My childhood anorexia was in no way linked to body image.
4. I have an ongoing love affair with my own hair. Occasionally I find this weird, but seriously people. It's gorgeous, silky, well behaved and longer than it's ever been before. I love it.
5. I hate my arms with the kind of passion that people usually reserve for baby killers and people who club seals. I never have bare arms in public. I don't care that they "aren't that bad" I feel like crap with them on show so I'm not going to take off my cardigan no matter how bloody hot it is.

...about my home
1. I've never been able to do the whole "student living in one room" thing. My crap is spread all over the house, along with everyone else's. Although mine takes up roughly five times the space of theirs put together.
2. My flatmates B and G are a couple. And they're lovely.
3. Between us we have 5 TVs, 3 DVD players, 2 PS2s, 3 Laptops, 1 PC, 1 Gamecube and 5 Stereo systems. We have no idea how.
4. Whoever cooks is exempt from washing up. G and I only ever remember to wash up because B is a neat freak and we're scared of her.
5. I keep my pretentious books on the two sets of shelves in the living room and in the hall, my trashy novels are kept under my bed. Yes, I am ashamed of half the things I read.

...about me and the arts
1. If I had to choose only one of my senses to keep it would be sight because I would die without the ability to read. Plus I could still enjoy anime.
2. In my opinion there is nothing better in this world than going to a midnight screening of a movie you're desperate to see and then discovering that you're the only one there. Nothing.
3. Music just doesn't "do it for me" the way it seems to for other people, I'm chameleon like in my tastes and very few songs move me to feel much of anything. I've never been obsessive about a band and unless I can hang out at the back by the bar I hate concerts.
4. I think that if a movie was filmed in a particular language then that is the language it should be watched in. Dubbing is the work of the devil.
5. Art galleries are sanctuaries for me but more often than not I end up sitting in a corner completely engrossed in what I'm writing. I think I just like the quiet.

...about me and men
1. Although there have been more than one when I refer to the Ex Mr. TheOdd it is always the same person. I don't like him very much, although I used to. I have been single now for the longer than I ever have been before. I have also been happier than I have ever been before. I'm pretty sure these are related.
2. I've never slept with someone for the first time when sober. This really upset me until polling my friends and realising that a) I make it sound a loads worse than it is b) I don't actually suffer from beer goggles to any great extent and c) at least I can remember all of them.
3. I don't have many male friends. I went to an all girl's school so I find interaction with guys kind of awkward, plus I'm incredibly suspicious (and arrogant) and instantly assume any man who is nice to me has an ulterior motive.
4. I find it actually cripplingly embarrassing to admit to liking someone. I simply cannot do it. I have not one single clue why but I feel like if I do all my dignity will be stripped. Which is insane as after the Ex Mr. TheOdd I'm not entirely convinced I have any.
5. I've been in love twice, one of them I dated, one of them not. One I still have feelings for, one definitely not. Neither loved me back. This doesn't upset me, in fact it makes me kind of glad.

...about my Family
1. I am the only person to have ever been University educated on either side of my family.
2. I'm also the first grandchild on both sides - although not the eldest.
3. My Mother and I speak to each other pretty much every day owing to the fact that we both have really boring jobs.
4. I refer to my step-father as Grumpy and fully intend to encourage any children either I or my step-brother have to do the same.
5. I adopt aunts on a semi-regular basis. So far I have about six. I adopt sisters too although that's much rarer and there have only been two women who have inspired me to do so.

...about my life Online
1. There is only one mention of me on Google under any permutation of my real names, this wasn't intentional but I'm very happy with it.
2. I am an Internet attention whore and get fairly obsessive about it. I know, there's a shocking fact you never knew. Although: I read a hell of a lot more blogs than I comment on.
3. Google reader may have in fact prevented me from being fired.
4. I used to use the alias "Eternally Ignored" but ditched it when I moved out of my self-pitying phase
5. I, personally, believe that due to the existence of spell checkers illiteracy is even less forgivable online.

...about me and food
1. I eat out of boredom and fast out of distress.
2. My sweet tooth is legendary.
3. Desserts should be warm and ideally served with vanilla icecream. (Examples include my home made toffee apple crumble, chocolate brownies and golden syrup sponge. Exceptions to the rule: Cheesecake and chocolate mousse.)
4. I'm not a fan of sandwiches. I like them but I can think of better foodstuffs.
5. Once I decide I like something I'll happily eat it every single day for at least a couple of weeks, often this involves having the exact same meal every day for lunch and occasionally again for supper, I see nothing wrong with this.

...about me and emotions
1. I'm contrary. Pointing this out to me just makes me worse. I know this. Doesn't mean I can change it.
2. I overshare. Badly.
3. I get very, very paranoid. I can quite happily convince myself that any conversation that's going on slightly out of ear shot is about me.
4. My god, I look terrible when I cry. In the real world I don't cry when I'm upset, only when I'm angry. Books and TV make my cry all the time though.
5. I feel in colours.

...about my friends
1. I suffer from "only child syndrome" according to my high school friends, making me selfish, whiny, determined to be the centre of attention and unable to share. Luckily they pretty much kicked this out of me via a systematic campaign of what can only be called "bullying" over the years. And I love them for it.
2. I'm terrible at keeping in touch with people so unless I see someone every day I tend to lose touch with them very quickly. Facebook has made my life a much more sociable place.
3. I'm keenly aware that my friends have flaws and I'm not prone to hero worship. Most descriptions of my friends begin with "I love X but...." they know this and do the same about me.
4. We don't have drama with each other. Although I thrive on the drama that other people have in their lives when it comes to my own friends and the relationships between me and them there is no fighting, no back stabbing and no scheming. I find it too exhausting and anyone that that kind of thing happens around doesn't class as a "friend" for very long.
5. I have several different circles of friends which never cross over, some people find this odd but the number of nicknames I have alone makes this arrangement much easier on everyone.

...about the things that make me... me.
1. I love lists. Like, love them. Everything makes more sense in list form. Especially if there are ticky boxes involved.
2. As we've already mentioned I don't find puppies particularly cute. I can't help it. I think I still have a soul though.
3. Nobody finds it weird any more when my answer to the question "What are you up to this evening?" consists of "Oh not much, I have to kill Rasputin and then hunt down some photos of naked men for this tailor... I need a new dress for my animated mannequin you see".
4. I have really specific compulsions. Mess and dirt I can handle (OK, OK I barely notice) but if something is out of order it sets my teeth on edge until I can fix it.
5. I won't feel validated unless you comment.

links!

Because I'm lazy here are some of the things from my reader that I found at least semi-interesting today:

I must admit that I really do love Simon Pegg. In other news: the phrase "kidult" is obnoxious and must be stopped.

Thoughtful? Articulate? Chiseled features? Starred in one of the best comic book adaptations to hit the silver screen? It appears that Christian Bale can do no wrong.

In the running for worst decision ever.

Unfortunately things are never actually this simple , after all we've known about obesity causing genes for quite a while.

new blog, comment diversion, tattoo and pub quiz

Well, I'm back from a fun filled evening accidentally attending a pub quiz, who'd have thought we knew so very, very little about 2006? Not us and that's for sure. Still: joint 4th and I had the world's nicest (and most artery clogging sandwich) as a result.

First up: make sure you visit Pajiba for their newest comment diversion, yes indeed I'm pimping it because it mentions me by name and I find this awesome. So sue me. (note to all legally minded people: please don't.)

Secondly: I'm running a second blog - I know, I know: I can barely keep up with this one but there is method to my madness. As some of you may know I am currently in the process of getting a new tattoo, this has been in the works for a good long while and it is a subject that I feel passionately about. To that end, in addition to my stream of consciousness and undirected ramblings here you can also find updates on my tattoo process as well as commentary on the art form within the media over at Inked Oddity. I felt that keeping the majority of my tattoo related musings in one place might be a good idea, so there it is. It's a more directed blog and hence has fewer posts, and for the foreseeable future I'll be posting notes of any updates here at Circular Logic. Please do check it out and comment if you feel moved to, feedback is always welcomed. In time it will expand but for now please forgive me for my scatterbrainedness. The entire point of this paragraph is essentially to say the following:

An account of the first steps towards my new tattoo is up on Inked Oddity so please take a look.

*ahem* back to our regularly scheduled programming:

More posting tomorrow. For those who are interested I had a news post planned today but unfortunately some idiot managed to cut through our building's fibreoptic cable, effectively crippling us and giving me a half day off. Downside: no post. Upside: new tattoo in the works.

thoughts for Friday morning

I'm distracting myself from my impending Interview of DOOM by mindlessly blogging, these are the things that have occurred to me this morning:

I can't believe I've had Shadow Hearts 3 for over a week and haven't even read the manual yet. That's some serious willpower right there.

Holy logical reasoning, Batman! Birds really are going to take over the world.

Using air quotes around the words "mad skills" is even better than deadpan delivery of "Oh yes, it's off the hook" for uninterested sarcasm and makes me almost wish I still worked for minimum wage at GAME so I could use it to describe this year's Madden.

I probably should have taken heed of the subliminal messages in Litely's last blog post and worn flats today.

I can't believe I have to work this weekend rather than attending my friend's faux-wake. His fake spirit is going to be pissed that I didn't go and pretend to mourn him.

Why does my scanner keep deciding it no longer wants to perform the "scan" function requiring a full restart? What did I ever do to him?

Also: why is my scanner suddenly male? And is it entirely healthy to anthropomorphise office equipment?

evening update - ten true things

Well I'm off on a road trip to the coast this weekend (now I know that I'm not going to get eaten by sharks I feel remarkably more happy about the whole thing) to celebrate 22 years of one of my friends being alive. It's going to be at close quarters with a big group of people (about 3/4 of whom I've never met before) combined with large amounts of alcohol, dancing and board games. Should be fun. 

I'm also celebrating for a reason greater than the four day weekend: the application form I was struggling with last week (and which drove me to start this damned thing) proved fruitful. Out of 80 applicants I was one of the 9 to get an interview. This is good news as it is my first official step out of my current slackerdom and into the world at large.

So to herald the early start to the weekend, here are ten true things*. We'll start with the subject I know most about: me.

1. According to Wikipedia I am 3" shorter than the average female my age in the UK. This is apparently not tall enough to reach the hand-rails on the London Underground.
   
2. My pupils are naturally so dilated that eyedrops have no effect on me. It is possible to take a photograph of my retinas without any preparation. According to two qualified medical professionals this is "freaky".
3. I still don't understand differential equations despite having an A-level in Maths. I never want to.
4. My hair colour is currently purple.
5. At present there are 6 self-help books in my bedroom. I've read two of them. Five of them originally belonged to my mother and have significant passages highlighted. This is creepy.
6. My favourite drinks are red wine, gin and vanilla white russians. These vary depending on weather, time into the evening and whether or not I have access to nutmeg.
7. I own as many pairs of pink shoes as I do games consoles. This number is 5.
8. I hadn't eaten meat until I turned sixteen. This is not a euphemism.
9. Nine is my favourite number (because it's thrice to thine, and thrice to mine, And thrice again, to make up...) it's also a very nice shade of blue.
10. I currently own 230 movies on legally bought DVDs.

Discuss.

I really should do one of those "here's all the things about me" questionnaires that are so rife on facebook, just so people have a basic frame of reference, but I can't seem to find one that isn't horrifyingly pedestrian if anyone knows of one (or has any questions to put to me) feel free to leave me a note in the comments section.

Have a good weekend, kids!

*Note: true things are subject to change. We here at Circular Logic take no responsibility for the nature of these claims, we cannot guarantee that they will be salacious enough to satisfy you and would like to take this opportunity to apologise in advance for any disappointment caused.

computer related thoughts of the day

It is entirely justifiable for me to buy another PS2 specifically to get it chipped so that I can play Grandia III

I really, really hate scanning. I mean it's fine when I have something I want to photoshop but not as the entirety of my job.

Surprising:

Mildly less surprising:




In my defense I am a geneticist with a very good memory and a thing for comic books and video games although I probably should only be in the 70s... right?

Taking online quizzes probably isn't a very good use of my time.