Old Personal: July 2005 Archives

I'm sure there's been a gaping hole in the place where my messenger icons usually are, but well, there are reasons for so many things. I'm in various minds of a party, but can't think of the bother. I'll probably try not to move things till after I'm gone.

The Singnet 10Mbps plan will be a boon for any number of people. Personally, I think the 25 plan is a waste of money, since they both have the same 1Mbps upload speed - and try as I might, maxing out downstream at that level is always a struggle.

I desperately should write more about the Inside and post the very happy charming picture of Rachel Nichol, but the as much as cancelled nature of it gets me down a bit. For my money, probably a better leading lady than Sarah Michelle was - and on a better show. The feeling is that these episodes got pushed up to end the series.

I should write a book.

Some people got it, some people don't. Basically I'm tired of tweaking the number of days on my front page. I'm desperately wondering if MT 3.2 will mean that it can be set according to posts rather than days.

I've been getting a bunch, well a couple, of e-mails that have warranted really very long replies. I don't know if I'm just bleary from the just waking up, and I wonder if they'll go anywhere. Presumptuous to be sure, but not unwarranted by any means. And getting slapped down is different when it's face to face. If there was any doubt that I am a product, though not an uncritical one, of the periodical I read, let that be proof sufficient.

I've been sort of perplexed, though not exactly displeased with the fact that there's plenty now that even I can't remember the context of, and would require quite a bit of digging to dis/re-cover. To that end, I can't bring myself to write, or write too much, yet at least, about the much hoo-ha-ing right now, which you can't help but wonder isn't just self-defeating. The film of the thing, despite the pedigree of (some) of its scriptors, is just blank on so many levels that it just doesn't quite bother me like it should. But the profound chest-thumping arrogance of it I think is ironic. This from people who would so readily eschew ideas of Charity and didactic disbelief, being so flung victims of it.

But Kelly Macdonald is really very lovely, and Bill Nighy is fun but misused in so many ways.

As with so many times I sit and still, the urge is to come and to blank and to fill. I think my newfound catalysed regularity has now led to me being much less out and out unhappy, but rather maintains me at a rather even keel of alleviated ambivalence.

I suppose it just was a bit spooky watching Howard Stern interview Phil Hartman, especially bringing on the wife that would later kill them both. Suzanne Vega, however, was delightful.