A handsome piece of deformity.

I was playing Neverwinter Nights last night and the game crashed. Admittedly this is my first time through it, despite it having been released over a year ago. As a result of the crash, my most recent saved game file became corrupted (I had to do a hard reboot) and I lost an hours worth of playing. Normally, such an occurence would frustrate me to no end, but thus far Neverwinter Nights has proven itself to be no ordinary game. I’m actually looking forward to replaying that lost hour.

How cool is that?

Finished grading twice as many papers today as I’d intended. Whooo, go me! Now, I need to accomplish some… shopping. Groceries and action figures, eh.

My parental units are dragging (dragging!) me out for sushi tonight. I am so hard done-by. Boohoo.

I’ve noted too that the number of blog entries I make on any particular occasion is directly proportional to the amount of grading I have to do.

Odd thing, here. Have a number of phonecalls to make, two of which concern the generous giving of gifts this holiday season, one of which is of a more personal (and tragic) nature, and… I can’t get ahold of anyone. This is a first, I think.

Not glee.

Woke up, sore back. Tea with breakfast. Need milk. Gone shopping (this afternoon, mind). Stubborn refusal to mark until new Laika ends. Which it just did. Curious what time m’love went to bed.

Must mark now. Soundtrack will be Múm. Finally We Are No One.

Glee.

Strange dreams last night. Beehive in a stove, oxygen cut off so they’d die; sweeping up a kitchen floor with a rubber axe. Only fragments remain, but damn, one thing remains above all others: that was a nice skirt you were wearing, dear. Whoa.

I’ve no respect for the Oscar Awards. To those people wondering why, I suggest you read this list which shows, in alphabetical order, the films being considered for Best Visual Effects this year. You may notice a movie (two, actually) that is absent.

Disgusting.

Home from having breakfast with my folks, er, folk (my mother couldn’t make it, citing fatigue). So, my dad and I went and had bacon and eggs and pancakes and coffee and orange juice and, well, we talked. A lot. Not really anything of major importance, but…talking is good. It’s funny, now that I don’t live my folks, I really miss my father. A lot.

Let’s see, what else…my girlfriend rules at Trivial Pursuit, totally shaming everyone else at the table with her knowledge. I was, am, in awe, as per the usual. Beautiful and brilliant, she is.

Oooh, and one last thing. My fucking car is currently taking a dirtnap. Something under the hood started making a high-pitched whining sound the other day while I was driving m’love and I around the city and, until I figure out the problem and get it solved, I’m not driving the thing. Greatest point of frustration here? It coincides with the one weekend out of the year that I do the most driving — you know, driving around and shopping (yes, me, shopping), taking advantage of retailers and sales prompted by a religious holiday that, for me, has lost all significance.

Things I was hoping to find and purchase this weekend included a Matrix Sentinel boxed set, a Matrix APU boxed set, the two Hellboy trade paperbacks that I need to round out my collection, the freshly released hardcover editions of Stephen King’s “The Dark Tower” series (specifically volumes I, III, and IV), and…something for m’love that I won’t type here, because I know she’s reading this. ;)

One of the strangest things I’ve ever seen and likely ever will. It’s amazing the kind of links you can find on message boards. Er, merry Christmas!

I just had way more fun wrapping gifts then any person should have. Wheee! Gift wrapping should be an Olympic event.

It’s dawned on me that my previous entry may be difficult to decipher, so…

A demo CD was hand-delivered to my doorstep this morning (don’t ask me why he gave the package to the doorstep and not to me; I dunno) and I’ve been listening to it ever since. It’s…keen.

Keen is high-praise, by the way.

Oh, and I’m the third Summers brother. Nyaaah.

Promise of a rioting fish resulted in the Baba Yaga herself knocking on my door this morning. She identified herself as USPS and appeared in the guise of a male, but oh no, I know better than that.

Since then I’ve whisked, wrapped — or rather, unwrapped — the parcel and have been enjoying my early Christmas gift. The sounds of a solo fish rioting is thus far very satisifying to my ears.

This has actually been a productive day. Let’s hope I don’t have to do it again any time soon.

Just finished excreting the thing closest to poetry that I’ve done in several long weeks, months…a while. It was a fun little diversion, procrastinating, an exercise in stream of consciousness. My thoughts were a bit muddy in places whilst writing, giving me pause, but the piece was ultimately hammered out and completed in under half an hour.

Celebrating with some Nick Cave and tea, though it would be cooler if I were celebrating with Nick Cave. Ah, well. Perhaps next time. For now I shall have to avail myself with “Murder Ballads” and Earl Grey.