Did I mention I forgot my password?

I did. Also my log-in ID. Most embarrassing.

Especially the bit where I cursed, swore, frothed at the mouth and generally spent an unpleasant almost-hour wrestling with Google and Blogger in Czechish, since they seem to only communicate with users in the language of their IP address, only to discover the teeeny, tiny link marked "English" at the bottom of one of the screens.

Oh yes. I still can't speak Czech. Also embarrassing.

*Blushing...*

List of shamefully pathetic blog avoidance excuses:

1. The (mythic) dog ate my blog.
2. I forgot my password.
3. The (mythic) dog ate my password.
4. Mrs. Jana has become crazed with power, and the consequent outpouring of homework has burned out what little of my brain cells remain after their usual daily abuse.
5. Mrs. Jana ate the (mythic) dog.
6. Fried cheese. In fact, it really should be held accountable for more of the world's problems, in particular the weirdly chewy plastic stuff rolled in orange breadcrumbs that is sold as the veggie alternative to the dodgy-sausage-in-a-bun post-evening's-entertainment snackerel from stalls in Wenceslas Square. Actually, the stalls are also open in the daytime, but I suspect that only crazed tourists, blinded by the lust for cobbles and driven mad by over-exposure to the bong-bong-bongs of that clock, think this is a good idea in broad daylight.
7. It's too cold.
8. It's too hot. (weather is v odd at the moment)
9. (Mythic) aliens ate the (mythic) dog, cold with some (mythic) pickled onions.
10. Oh dear... ten. Nope. Just not happening.

Sadly, none of these are actually true except the last one, and I suspect that things will remain erratic for a wee while. But will try catch up with some photos.

Im Not Dedd Yet.

But I'm in some kind of doldrums, where I'm paddling furiously but don't seem to be getting anywhere fast.

Anyhow, in my "to blog" list appears the following:
1. Extended posting extravaganza on "The Colour Purple", including why I spell it wrong.
2. Some really good series books I've read lately (like, in the past year).
3. Spreading book love to a bunch of standalones too.
4. Kyrse of the Whamphyre Pt. 3278, rev.7a, or "If I skim read the LKH releases in hardback in Borders instead of buying them, it's a) not tight and mean, and b) doesn't count in the rotting of grey matter stakes (like calories from food you don't like, or eat standing up. Pun unintentional.).
5. Sausages.
6. Things that people miss in the Czech Rep. with a very long digression by a French person on seafood.
7. The Appalling Behaviour Of My New Ex-Flatmate Who Has Done A Runner. And she seemed so normal, too.
8. Should I get flying lessons?
9. Does anyone else always look to see who's listed in the copyright of a book?
10. House. Better in small chunks as otherwise, you see the joins.
11. Hair. Tralalala.
12. Greetings (not Hallmark).
13. Burčak. Drink it before it brews. It's cultural.

14. I'm hungry.

Problem is of course, that the more I don't write about them, the more I don't want to write about them. So I think I might jettison some of the trivia, and when someone takes this bloody grindstone off my neck (nose has slipped) I'll just do number 1.

In case anyone was looking to for the terrifyingly-long first draft mentioned elsewhere...

I have to apologise because I did promise elsewhere that I would attempt to tame the unfeasibly long first draft of my commentary-thing on The Color Purple and present it, nicely trimmed (possibly with lavender ribbons) in manageable chunks here this weekend. And I really did mean to. Had it all planned in my head and everything.

Problem is that I'm over HERE. And the laptop is over THERE. And the back-up server with all these personal doodads and mumblings is JUST A BIT TO THE RIGHT, NO WAIT, UP A BIT… LEFT… LEFT… NO! RIGHT! RIGHT! But the whole thing was just too huge for me to reconstruct over the weekend, so guess what this week's filling-in-the-gaps project will be? By next Sunday, there will be something along these lines, 'kay?

Pause.

Then I started an entirely different rant, but that's another post for another time. Probably about 5 minutes from now.

It's raining...

...rain, mostly.

We are flooded downstairs. This is fun. Lucky I bought that new mop, eh?

Howl's moving

Aaaaaaaarrrrrrrrgggggggggghhhhhhhhhh

The curse of the drinking classes has cursed me bigtime. Something involving lead tablets in the walls of a cemetary probably.

aaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrgggggggghhhhhhh

Visitors with PLANS. They looom.

AAAAAAaaareeaghwwwwwwwwfoooooo

Essays due. Immediately.

GGGGGGrrrrrrrrrewwwwwwwwwwwwwggggggggwwwwwwwwwoooooooffff

(New) flatmates to find. Slightly less immediately. But I fear the cupboard-opening madness.

Yyyyyeeeeeeeaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrraagggggggghhhh

And the bathroom tap still squirts water in wholly unexpected directions when left unsupervised.

Probably the coffee isn't helping. And I really wanted to think about that poem too.

Gotta go.

Tonight there's gonna be a jail break...

...somewhere in this town.

But probably not here. Maybe at the jail.

Really really really really busy - the work thing is out of control. And it appears that my newly-purchased mop has been cursed by an angry god of plumbing.

Maybe I can appease it with offerings of a socket wrench, u-bend and very large mug of hot, sweet tea? Probably have to do it on bended knee to demonstrate appropriate degree of bottom cleavage though. Will hunt out lowest-waisted trousers.