mandragora

So, new series on the Beeb. As the Radio Times put it, it's a cross between Buffy, X Files and Jonathan Creek.

It was fun.

The protagonist - John Strange of the title - is a defrocked priest. Rather disappointingly, I think he's actually CofE, not Catholic, which is much less glamorous. But still. The Church chucked him out, because of his belief (obsession) with demons. And of course, he's youngish (early 30s, I guess) and quirkily attractive, with gorgeous eyes.

The female lead is a snarky, beautiful nurse called Jude. She's mother to a young son Joey, who may, or may not, be a demon himself. His father was, you see, and Jude just doesn't know whether her son has taken after his father, so to speak. She and Strange got together to banish the demon father in the pilot episode, which was shown several months ago.

Strange is assisted by a computer geek called Toby, who is (of course) young and good looking and there are definitely slashy vibes there between the two men. Mind you, there are also vibes between Strange and Jude, which I'm also enjoying.

Then there's the sinister Canon Black (played by Ian Richardson, camping it up delightfully), who Has It In for Strange, and wants to keep everyone away from Strange's influence. He comes across as a (bit) older Snape, also dresses all in black robes. His ultimate allegiance is uncertain. Is he simply misguided when he doubts Strange, and the existence of demons. Or is he really a demon himself...

The final member of the regular cast is Kevin, who has Down's syndrome and is also psychic.

The special effects are up to the usual BBC standard, i.e. crap, as fans of Blakes 7 and Dr Who will know all too well. However the premise is great and of course it makes sense that demons would be attracted to holy places, and those who work
within the various religions.

Some lovely dialogue, too. Such as Canon Black, when talking about having to go to a gospel service (much to his distaste): "I can't stand all this happy clappy stuff. If God had meant us all to bang tambourines the Twelve would have been gypsies."

Also, Jude, having found a distressed Kevin on her doorstep is discussing why he's upset with Strange and Toby. The latter comments that Kevin has turned up at his place too, and how it can be really inconvenient. Why, says Toby, once Kevin turned up when I was having sex! Said in the tones of a young man who is desperate to impress beautiful older woman. "Yeah," says Jude is sympathetic tones, "So, on your own were you?

Giggle. Poor Toby.

This week's story featured a demon who sucked out people's life energy, causing them to age prematurely and die. I didn't work out who the demon was until near the end (it was the gospel vicar's wife, the demon having originally come from Africa), although I was yelling at the characters for being stupid at one point when it was obvious that they might be reading name of the demon upside down, hence why they couldn't find any info on it.

I shall definitely be watching it again. It shows a lot of promise.

Other thing, according to this week's Radio Times, Clark will definitely not lose his virginity on Smallville. Hmm, and here was I thinking that he might have already lost it with Jessie... Looks like we won't be getting that Very Special Episode that some fans have been dreading, er, anticipating, when Clark and Lana Get Together after all. However, I don't know how good the source is, the report is that after consideration 'the producers' have definitely decided agin Superstud Clark.

Hmm, well, I have to admit that I find some of them to be...surprising. There's precious few of my favourites that made it onto the list. OTOH, I didn't vote in the first place so can't very well whine about the appalling lack of taste in the people who voted for some of the entries.

Jeffrey Archer! Oh come on!

However, there are some great choices there that I'm ashamed to admit have passed me by. Oh well, there's time yet to read them.

( The books I've read are in bold behind the cut. )

In a nutshell it rocks!

( I think it's better than the first one. )

But it was too much fun not too. I just spent an hour or so snarking at one of the fanboy idiots on the Firefly vids thread.

Go here for the gory details.

I doubt very much whether either of the fanboys will listen to a word I say but, oh well, it's seldom I get the chance to be that mean and sarcastic in RL to people who deserve it so much.

BTW, the formatting of most of my posts on the thread sucks. Sigh.

Edited to add: Well, how disappointing. He's taken his toys and run home to Mummy, i.e. is refusing to 'debate' any more. Wonder if that's because he can't think of anything to counter my legal arguments other than, 'You're wrong'. *g*. Alas, the quality of debate is definitely debased.

Must get to bed so I can do some real legal work tomorrow.

Because I'm bored... And obviously in a negative mood.

( Ten rather trivial and wholly personal disappointments in my life. )

Opened my Mastercard statement this morning and stared at it in puzzlement. It's rather high, isn't it? I'm well aware of my spendthrift tendencies but even so I don't recall spending that much in the past month.

Ah ha! Checked the breakdown and mystery solved. Someone has been having a good time in France recently, having purchased something that cost £1,976.35. After being converted from Euros to £s of course. That person wasn't me, however I'm being charged for their fun.

No problem, I think, I'll just call the credit card company and get it sorted out. So, I pick up the phone and dial. Oh no. Since I last phoned them they've installed one of those annoying systems where you have to punch in your card number and security info. Put phone down when the system asks me for card expiry date, go to fetch card and start again. Go through long rigmarole again. System insists on telling me credit card balance, even though this is not the reason for my call.

At last! I'm being transferred to the correct department after punching in a number indicating that I want to dispute an entry. Rats! I'm in a queue. Sigh. It's taken me about 7 minutes to get this far by this stage. Well, it shouldn't be long, right? Right?

So, I wait, and wait. I'm forced to listen to annoying muzak punctuated with interspersed messages informing me I'm in a queue. Yeah, I know that already dearie, will someone just answer the damn call. Ten minutes later I get cut off whilst waiting.

Arrrgghhh! Swear viciously and go through dialling rigmarole again. Get put on hold for reporting department again. Am really fed up of muzak and annoying woman's voice. Ten minutes later get cut off again!

%$%^*((*^!!

How the fuck do I get hold of an actual human being? When I dial, after going through card number and ID rigmarole am only offered very limited options. Ah ha! Credit card company is subsidiary of bank. Ring customer services of bank - they put me straight through to credit card company department without having to go through annoying credit card number, ID and balance on account rigmarole.

Woman I speak to apologises, says she wonders why they weren't receiving any calls. That's because no one could bleeding get through, could they, because your precious automated system that is annoying as fuck to use in the first place is fucked up! Refrain from saying this, because is not woman's fault - she is a mere minion of the credit card company. Want to kill person who made decision to replace real live human operator who used to answer the phone when you rang credit card company with automated crappy system that breaks down and Does Not Work.

Will take about a month to sort out the transaction falsely credited to my account, but it will be placed in abeyance in the interim so I will not be accountable for it. However, that is 45 minutes of my life wasted trying to get through to the credit card company that I'm not getting back.

And here was me thinking that the idea of technology is actually to, you know, make our lives easier...

I know, I know. How naive can you get?

Am sick, so am slumped in front of the telly watching Comic Relief.

They've just shown part 1 of 'Harry Potter and the Chamberpot of Azerbaijan'. It is funny.

Harry is *gasp* a girl - well actually he's Dawn French, and Jennifer Saunders is Ron. Sigh.

Jeremy Irons as Snape flicking his hair, pursing his lips and stating (to himself), "You're gorgeous." Oh joy.

Ronnie Corbett (approximately 5 feet tall) as Hagrid. *dies*

Basil Brush as Dobbie? Genius, sheer genius.

Can't wait for part 2!

I had a lovely weekend. Dinner on Friday night with alsoa, resident ex-pat thermidor and visiting slasher laurakaye. Thermidor and Laura Kaye were staying with me for the weekend, so back to my place after dinner for slashy vids.

I finally got to see the Due South blooper reel. Yippee!

On Sunday temaris drove us to Oxford and back. Actually, Temaris begged to drive. No, really. I would write why, but am saving myself for bribery from an embarrassed Tem. Tried to contact olymia_m to come out and play but, alas, without success.

We took Laura Kaye to the chippie for her first ever fish 'n chips - good place to start as the chippie in question, Toffs in Muswell Hill won best Chippie Award in the country a few years back. Then back to watch vids. Especially Buffy. I really don't know why so many people are bitching about season 7 as it has me enthralled. Watching several eps in a row really brought home the brilliance. Buffy is damn good, even when it's not.

Also sneaked a peek at Smallville Prodigal episode on Sunday, after I'd finished watching the Buffy eps, having waved a fond farewell to Thermidor and Laura Kaye. Thermidor I'll be seeing again soon. Laura Kaye... not so soon. Sigh. Real pity.

Prodigal. It was all I'd come to expect and more. Would watch it again, but I have to tape Lineage (so to have a copy for myself) in a few minutes, and Prodigal is on a borrowed tape.

Last night the father of one of my closest friends died. He had cancer. He went into the hospice a week ago, and I knew then that the end was imminent. Most patients in hospices don't stay there for more than 2 weeks, as the places are limited to the dying. He was in terrible pain towards the end and I'm pretty sure from the circumstances of his death that he was 'helped' on his way by the nurses. They do a fabulous job of caring for the dying and it is common practice to help those who are suffering to die sooner rather than linger in agony. I don't think it's well known that is the case, though. I haven't said anything to my friend, although I suspect that she knows, as the wound is far too raw at present.

So yes, RL hit with a bang.

I'm waiting in at present for the new fridge to be delivered, and took the opportunity to sort out part of my (copious) video collection.

Whilst doing so I came across a video of me white-water rafting down the Zambezi River at Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe. I visited the country a few years ago, before the present 'troubles'. Seeing what's happening to Zimbabwe now breaks my heart. I had such a fabulous time there, it was absolutely one of the best places I have ever visited (and I've visited more than a few). Amazing scenery, wildlife, very friendly people who provided excellent service without being deferential about it - they were good and they knew it. The burgeoning tourist industry was just about to take off in a big way, thus vastly increasing the country's wealth. And now? Ruined. All ruined.

Anyway, I watched the tape for the first time in a long while. Brought the memories rushing back. I should state now that I am an adrenaline junkie, love the thrill I get from risking life and limb in some pointless pursuit. Oh well, we all need a hobby.

The Zambezi at Victoria Falls is one of the top white-water rafting spots, in fact the World Championships were regularly held there (not certain if they still are in the light of the present political climate) because the rapids are so challenging. However, all those running the rafting trips are very safety conscious - rafts go down in groups of twos, accompanied by a safety canoeist who is there to help anyone flipped out of their raft, or if the raft turns over. And there is a 50% chance that it will... The safety canoeists themselves are absolutely top calibre - they come to Vic Falls because it's a world-class white-water playground. Ours was a member of the US Olympic canoeing squad.

So, yeah, lots of safety. But they still make you sign a lengthy disclaimer, after they've read it aloud to you to make certain that you've heard every word of what you're risking. People can, and do, die white-water rafting although considering the difficulty of the rapids the Zambezi has a pretty good injury record.

First stage was climbing (in some parts literally) down the gorge to the Zambezi. I'm not overly fond of heights (unless parachuting down) so didn't enjoy that much. At times I was teetering on the brink of a loooong sheer drop. But I only had to get myself down, the rafting guide and his helpers had to also carry the raft.

I opted for the 'throw yourself around the raft' method of rafting, where the passengers control the raft by throwing themselves backwards, forwards and sideways as directed by the rafting guide, who has the oars. If we got it wrong, the raft would go over, simple as that. At the end of the training session, we were all directed to leap into the water, presumably to prove to us that our life-jackets worked. I refused to do so, because well, there might be bilharzia in there! Bilharzia is a nasty parasitic worm that lives in still water and burrows into the skin. As were were practising in still water (well, duh!), there was a risk the worm was lurking. I wasn't worried about proving that the life-jacket would work. It was obvious that it would and I'm a sufficiently good swimmer to be a qualified life-guard. Our guide was unmoved. He picked me up and chucked me in.

Onto the rapids. I doubt that I can do justice to the sheer thrill of riding those rapids. It makes the best fun-fair/theme park ride pale into insignificance.

Here's how it goes. You're drifting down the river, soaking up the rays, then the guide tells you to put your life-jacket and crash helmet on. And in the distance you can hear this roar, gradually getting louder and louder as you approach the rapids. You take up your position (I was in the front to one side), and grip the ropes, firmly, with both hands. And then you're there and the guide is yelling, "Forward, forward" and you're throwing your weight forward as hard as you can and there's water around you and above you and flowing over you and your heart is pounding and you can't breathe because you'll only breathe in water and you want to scream and shout and yell but as you open your mouth you're choking on water which is drenching you and soaking you and invading you and the raft is bucking and leaping and you think that it's going to tip back but then it surges forward and it spins round and--

You're through. You're sailing on into calm waters and you're laughing from the adrenaline high as you're heart-beat gradually slows. You strip off your life-jacket and crash-helmet whilst drafting down - until you get close to the next rapids.

Our raft managed to make it down without capsizing. However, I didn't. Well, not quite true but even if the raft itself doesn't tip up, rafters, particularly those at the side like I was, are frequently flipped out into the white water. We were going down rapid number 8, one of the most formidable, and I thought we were through, relaxed my grip slightly on the ropes and then. Water. Everywhere. Above me, below me, around me. Rushing, churning water, throwing me around like I was a rag doll. It was a bit like being caught in a strong, breaking wave and being turned around over and over and over again until you start to wonder whether you'll ever be able to breathe again or will drown in the ocean. Only less regular, more bumpy. It can only have lasted seconds as I was dragged down the white water and shot into the calm. The safety canoeist was by me in seconds asking me if I was okay. I was laughing in sheer exhilaration. I felt great! "Fine, fine," I was saying as I swam for the raft where willing hands pulled me aboard.

I absolutely loved it.

At the end, I was interviewed on the video about my experiences. And, oh dear. Who was that simpering, flirtatious Blondie-wannabe on the film? I know I reacted like that because I was acutely conscious of being videoed when I was looking less than my best (vanity, thy name is Mandragora), hey I'd just been down several thousand tonnes of churning white-water, okay. But still. Ugh. No wonder some blokes get the wrong idea and think that I'm interested in them when I'm Just Trying To Be Friendly, if I often come across like that. Hmm, wonder if that's why our safety canoeist asked me out for dinner that night *g*.

Climbing out of the Gorge was...interesting. Only thing that kept us all going was the knowledge that there was a long, cold beer waiting for us at the top. The temperature was about 45 degrees C (well into the 100s in Fahrenheit). It was hot. And the climb was steep. Very steep. You simply cannot white-water raft down the Zambezi at Vic Falls unless at least moderately fit simply because the climb down and up the Gorge is a bit difficult (note British understatement).

The next day, I was covered in bruises. Every single one of them was worth it.

Well, the new fridge is now on order. It looks remarkably like the old one, same make, same dimensions, same colour. Only cheaper. Obviously the cost of fridges has plummeted in real terms over the last decade. But I really couldn't shop for a larger fridge, as when the kitchen was remodelled it was fitted round the fridge. I've got a typical London kitchen, with space at a premium.

It should be delivered on Thursday. Fingers crossed. And how annoying is it that they can't give me any idea of the time for delivery. No, what they'll do is ring me on Thursday morning at some time between 8-10am and give me a 4 hours window for delivery. Oh yeah, that's very bleeding convenient that is. Means I can't get anything done workwise on Thursday. Thus making the fridge automatically more expensive due to loss of income. Sod it!

thermidor very kindly offered to wait in for the fridge to be delivered, freeing me to go to court, but I know she can't do Thursday, as she has a friend from the US arriving to visit that day. On the good side, though, I'm really looking forward to meeting the friend, and hopefully will have pristine new fridge by the time they both come round to my place.

I took jacquez' advice and packed the existing fridge full of ice. And bugger me, but I think the drop in temperature may have actually started the damn fridge working again. I put my hand to the back of the fridge and it appears to be giving out cold air... Which puts me in a dilemma. Do I cancel the new fridge, and see if the old one continues to work? But I don't feel that I can rely on it, and will be worried that it will pack up on me again. If I'm here I can sort it out, but what happens if I'm away on holiday?

On balance I think sticking with the new one is probably best, given that the old one is, well, old.

Also took the opportunity to watch Garrett Maggett's episode of 'ER'. Hmm, must admit I didn't even recognise him at first. Oh well, I was always a Jimbabe (that body. Sigh) at heart.

It's been a fannishly great weekend so far.

Friday night there was a meeting with temaris, thermidor, who were, as always, great company. In addition, I met the delightful uschickens, who had us cracking up with her description of the infamous colour-coded Excel spreadsheet that is to be used to plan their sightseeing when a bunch of friends come to London to visit her. It was also a joy to hear Thermidor and uschickens riffing in fine old US southern genteel style. Beautifully done and worth the admission fee *g* alone. Even if when I arrived they had neither a chair for me, nor (much, much worse) a glass of wine. Explanation was, 'But you arrived earlier than you said.' Er, yes and this is a bad thing because...? Answers on a postcard to Mandragora at...

Yesterday I experienced the Star Trek Adventure in the company of olympia_m, who I also met for the first time. And what a joy that was. Incisive, intelligent, opinionated *g*, my type of gal. The Exhibition/Adventure itself was fun, although I think rather overpriced at £17.50. However, definitely a place to see for Trek geeks. I have to classify myself amongst the geek fraternity after taking a test on my ST knowledge and scoring 100%, thus attaining the rank of captain. Ahem. Yes, well.

There was much stuff from TNG, DS9 and Enterprise, also ST:Nemesis, which has some particularly great props on show. Also saw again the original Enterprise bridge *sigh*, which I had already seen at the ST exhibition at the Science Museum a few years ago. But it was a joy to see it again.

The actual Adventure, set in the engineering room, turbolift and bridge of the Enterprise D was a blast, even if it was over all to soon and you weren't allowed enough time to linger to check out the sets.

Oh yeah, the actors on Trek are (mostly) impossibly skinny. Frighteningly so. Seven of Nine, for example... The woman simply cannot eat.

Then we went to meet stageira, who was a tremendous amount of fun, despite having a rotten cold. Self-deprecatingly witty, I enjoyed her enthusiasm muchly, even as I said 'not going there' to Mettalica slash. I mean, no *shudder*. Nice try, though *g*. Also, my blood boiled when I realised that she'd set up the Sentinel virtual season but received no recognition for her efforts. Blinkered much?

Left both evenings with the definite intention to do it again soon. Hmm, maybe try to organise a bigger get-together of people in the London area, as well.

Sekrit message to alsoa. You were missed. Both times.

Now, off to the Aztec Exhibition. Non-fannish event this time.

Edited to add: Oh yeah, I bought a tribble. A tribble that giggles and purrs. It's meant to be a friend's birthday present but I dunno whether he'll actually ever receive it...

So, Wednesday my purse was nicked. Whilst I was in court. Sigh.

Whoever took it must have unzipped by bag and taken it out, probably whilst I was taking instructions from my client outside court.

Today, the plan was to drive thermidor and me up to the temaris residence to go and see 'Daredevil' and then watch Buffy, Angel and Smallville vids and DVDs. I went to open the driver's door to my car, only to find that it was open. 'That's weird', I thought, because I never forget to lock the car. Then I looked over to the passenger seat where Thermidor is sitting, only to find that all the stuff that was normally tucked away was chucked onto the floor. Then I looked to where my CD collection normally is. Only there was nothing there.

Yes, that's right. At some point between Wednesday and Saturday my car was broken into and my CDs, plus map of the UK, were stolen.

Double sigh.

Great week. Not.

Oh well, at least the rest of Saturday was enjoyable. Enjoyed the film, had a good lunch, great company and lots of TV watching complete with slashy comments.

But. Still. Sigh.

I haven't seen all the Season 2 episodes yet, although I have seen most of them up to 'Insurgence', courtesy of the thermidor other half. I try not to favour one half of my slash-pairings too much over the other, but have to admit that in SV's case I am rather a Lex-slut. That said, I like Clark, like his brattiness, his misjudgments, his temper. I like that he is in so many ways a typical teenager, tempered with the knowledge that he saves people just because he can and doesn't use his powers simply for his own ends. When he could, oh he so easily could. He's got a hard future ahead of him being Superman and I try to bear that in mind at all times.

But. Lex. Sigh.

So I know that the Season 2 episodes 'Suspect' and 'Rush' are going to be hard for me to watch. Clark apparently engages in some teenaged self-centred and thoughtless behaviour towards Lex that he doesn't apologise for, when he really should. He also treats Lana badly, from the spoilers I've read but at least she gets an apology. Which is yet more proof that Clark doesn't have a problem (unlike some teenagers) with apologising per se. Just to Lex, apparently.

I don't hang out in places where Lex is disliked (hmm, are there any places where Lex is disliked?) so I don't know what overall fan reaction to Clark's recent behaviour is, but it seems that most people are irate with Clark on Lex's behalf. In some cases they're outright disliking the Clark Kent character. Now I've seen this type of thing before. Duncan/Methos anyone in Highlander fandom. But not to such an extent as it's happening in SV. And most times the Duncan bashers weren't people whose opinions I generally agreed with. But in this case, many of the people struggling not to dislike Clark are people whose opinions I respect. This disturbs me. In HL fandom I never thought that Duncan actually did treat Methos badly, or was at fault for the way he reacted towards Methos. But in SV it does seem as if Clark's behaviour really is thoughtless and insensitive. And this cannot be a good thing, bearing in mind that he's the Hero. The one we're meant to be all rooting for.

I can't believe that TPTB do not realise Lex's extreme popularity. It's apparent from critical reviews of SV, those written not by fans but by professional critics who are paid to think about this stuff. And their reactions all seem to be pretty positive towards the character. Plus, as TPTB send their minions to check out fan message boards etc, they must know, they have to know, that Lex is huge. Figuratively speaking, of course *g*.

Which makes me wonder, are TPTB doing something rather clever here? Could it be that they're building up to a big scene in which Clark gets called on his behaviour by Lex, who is about to call time on their friendship? And Clark realises that yes, he is about to lose something here, something real and good and valuable. So, he works hard at re-establishing their friendship, thus warming the cockles of every slashy heart out there, and keeping the Clark/Lex friendship dynamic going.

But as a result, Clark is now in a position where he has to tread more carefully with Lex in the future, can't call him on things like he used to. By default he is forced to trust Lex. Which is all hunky-dory until Lex does something to abuse that trust.

Clark is saying to everyone, "No, no, he's my friend, I trust him. It'll all work out, you'll see." etc. Only it doesn't. Because Lex, possibly for reasons that seemed good to him at the time, did something outright bad. Which all went horribly wrong and someone close to Clark got hurt.

It's all about trust betrayed. This would work really well for me, I would be chomping at the bit to see a storyline along those lines.

But. I fear that TPTB don't have a master-plan in mind in reality and are simply winging it. That they think we all will go along with whatever Clark does simply because whatever he does (when in his right mind) it must be good because he's Superman. And therefore good. Because he's Superman etc. Trouble with that approach is that it's overly simplistic for today's sophisticated TV audience. Here TPTB have given us a great dynamic, a whole fresh new approach to the Superman legend and actually invented a sympathetic, multi-faceted, complex Lex Luthor and a complex, multi-faceted Clark Kent (not so sure about the sympathetic at present). But they threaten to throw it all away in favour of some good-versus-evil approach, i.e. Superman = good, Lex Luthor = evil. Becuase that's the way it is etc.

God, I really hope not.

I've been thinking of passports recently. Not exactly a fascinating topic, you might think but having had mine stolen last year and having to go through the rigmarole of getting a new one they've begun to interest me.

The fact that I need one at all, for example. ( It's a symptom of British decline )

And second. And third.

If anyone's imagining I had a divine encounter with an Earth goddess, sadly not. 'Green Goddess' is the name given to the ancient fire engines that are presently being operated by the Army to put out fires. The Firefighters service is on strike at the moment (although not for long if the Government has anything to do with it - they're about to pass a new law banning any strikes by firefighters), and the Army is attempting to fill the gap. Trouble is, there are no where near as many Green Goddesses as modern fire engines, and the Green Goddesses are getting on for 50 years old, so aren't exactly state of the art.

It was interesting seeing the reactions to them though, by blase Londoners. I'd just come out of Moorgate tube station and was walking towards Bank, which is the heart of The City when I heard the sirens behind me. Naturally, I didn't turn to look, far too used to hearing the emergency services in action to get worked up about it. Typical Londoner's reaction, of course. I still remember being absolutely mortified when my sister and brother-in-law were staying with me, we'd just come out of St Paul's on the tourist trail and a fire engine went by. My brother-in-law took pictures. So terribly, terribly uncool ;)

So today it was only after the first escorting police car had gone past that I realised that the rickety green vaguely van-like thing I saw was an actual Green Goddess. So I stared. I wasn't the only one, people walking the other way actually turned around to look - almost unheard of when rushing to work. Five minutes later I heard sirens again, and there was another one. Or maybe it was the same one, snarled up in rush-hour traffic. I hope not, because it's not a comforting thought that I, on foot, could beat an emergency services vehicle. Even one on its last legs.

Then tonight, on my way home just as I approached Moorgate station again, there was yet another one coming towards me along Moorgate. And yes, people stopped and stared again.

In other news, the senior partner asked me again about my 'Janeway stories'. He remained unswayed when I said that I haven't actually written any starring Janeway and said that he really wanted to read one of them.

Bugger! (literally in the case of some of my stories).

His parting words as he left the office this evening were that he wasn't going to let this one go. So now I have to hunt out my sole published het-fic (I am not giving him a slash story to read) just in case. If I can find it, that is. I'm not sure I have a copy saved anywhere, and I can't remember the title to go searching for it.

I am so doomed.

Unless ::hopeful look:: some kind person wants to denote a het-fic, preferably Star Trek to me that I can pass off as mine to the senior partner. Hmm, if so does that make me a plagiarist? If it's plagiarism with permission?

Whatever, it's all in a good cause ::she types pathetically::

Following the discovery of poison at a flat in North London near me, there was a raid today in Manchester in an associated counter-terrorist operation.

One policeman died in the operation, stabbed to death.

I am surprised by how shocked I am. Given all that we've heard recently about violence in Britain perhaps I shouldn't be, but I am. Upset, too.

My feelings are similar to when I heard about the 2 teenage girls killed in Birmingham, caught up in inter-gang warfare. Because we just don't do that in Britain. Except that, clearly, we've started to do so.

I can't remember the last time there was news of a policeman killed in the course of his duties. And that is a good thing, notwithstanding the poor man who died today.

The fact that I am - still - shocked by these events is because they do not happen often. Yet.

I decided to do a quiz instead. Liked the result ::g::

Gacked from lexin

( Which Death Eater am I? )

So, I just watched the first episode of the new series of ER. I must admit that I was not expecting Romano to have his arm chopped off like that, and the whole scene and its aftermath was very well done.

But. Who was that wanker of a doctor in London? The plot was that Elizabeth had returned to London following Mark's death and had (numerous) run-ins with the Head of Surgery is some hospital that is apparently located just by Tower Bridge. Er, yeah, whatever (there is no hospital anywhere near there, in fact there's no hospital near the City since St Bart's A&E was closed down). Leaving that aside, this idiot doctor commented that Elizabeth wasn't in mourning because she wasn't wearing black.

Leading to me going WTF?! There was a time when it was tradition in this country to wear black for several months after the death of a family member. This time was, oh, about 50-70 years ago. Members of the Royal Family still observe the tradition - but only for a few weeks afterwards. The rest of us? Er, no.

Not everyone even wears black to a funeral nowadays, let alone ritually swathe themselves in widows weeds for months afterwards.

That comment by wanker doctor was just wrong, wrong, wrong. It was also incredibly jarring. If they could get details like an accident on the M1 right, how could they get this so wrong?

On the plus side, the new season of Smallville starts (at last) on 27 January on E4.

News has just broken that 6 men were arrested in North London in a suspected plot to mass-poison Londoners, probably on the Underground with a deadly poison called Ricin - which is 6,000 times more toxic than Cyanide. The chemical has been manufactured in Iraq and it's thought Al Quieda may have access to it.

All this is alarming, of course, but what's got to me is that the road where they were arrested is about a mile from where I live (granted, with the population density of London that isn't that close). However, the road where the suspected poisoners-to-be were living and where they were arrested, is one I know very well, as one of my closest friends used to live there. It's a quiet, surburban road in North London. Not somewhere you'd think a bunch of people would be plotting to commit mass murder.

The other happy thought is that Wood Green is one stop down the line from where I get on the tube, on the Piccadilly Line, so if the poisoners had decided to release the toxin on the tube, it could have been my line, and if I was really unlucky, my tube train.

What a happy thought.

What I did this weekend:

Friday night was office party night. Was actually okay, lots of drunk people but all still nice with it (most unusual for bunch of lawyers).

Saturday: dashed to garage to pick up courtesy car as mine was being repaired.
Food shopping.
Washing.
Worked rest of day, reading witness statements.
Early evening went into West End to meet thermidor, thermidor's other half who was visiting from the US (thank you deeply, thermidor other half, for Smallville eps and naked Callum!), temaris, moonlettuce, and A (who I don't think has a LJ). A good time was (I think) had by all, even if it did piss down with rain and, due to being too vain to wear glasses, I steered us wrong out of the restaurant and we ended up in Holborn rather than Covent Garden. Was accused of concocting fiendish plot to make sure I got direct tube line home, until pointed out that could also have got direct tube line home from Covent Garden...

Sunday: spent 6 hours doing legal research. Then worked further on legal project, picking up where left off yesterday.
More washing. Ironing.
Also thought of way to fill plot hole in Smallville story started before legal project arrived. Hastily wrote down filler for plot hole, have no idea when will actually be able to work on story again. Sigh.

Am now knackered, Must get early tomorrow to get to work early, as have very tight deadline to make (and damn other lawyer for sitting on project for bleeding months anyway). Will be working most of Christmas and New Year as a result. Bah humbug.

Still, have delectable Sean Bean to look forward to in Scottish play tomorrow night, which is some consolation.