May 30th, 2004


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Up and awake at 7:50 today.

I sat in my father's study, door open to the garden, the cooing of doves echoing from the pear tree.

I just caught up with Livejournal, Slashdot and everything else I usually use to kill time.

It's 8:25.

Now I actually have to _do_ something with the rest of my day.

This is the feeling I wanted to get to for so long.
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Amusingly, the things I had to do next turned out to be on the computer (write to grandmother, fix software for parents), so I'm scanning Napster for random memories while I'm doing that.

I come across Therapy?.

The world is fucked and so am I.
Maybe it’s the other way round, I can’t seem to decide.

Aah, it's like being 18 again.

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In a few short minutes I will be giving my mother Quicksilver for her birthday.

Having the kind of mother that one can give Neal Stephenson books to probably explains a lot.

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Neil Gaiman says:
I was pleased to get a copy of Roger Zelazny's novel Lord of Light the other day. It's one of my favourite books (I think the first thing author Steve Brust ever said to me was "Let's have an argument. Roger Zelazny's Lord of Light is the best book anyone's ever written." "Ah," I said, "If you make it best SF book of the 1960s, I'll go along with it." "Oh. Fair enough." It was the first of a long line of failed arguments.) It's got a blurb from me on it, which I hope sells many copies.

I wouldn't say it was the best SF book of the 1960s. But I can't think of many better.

kimberly_a - did you get around to reading it?

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Right, the dog's been for an hour's walk, so that will hopefully tire her out until we reach Scotland.

I'm boiling hot and tired myself :->

Off we go...