Or maybe they were just books

London has tested my virtue and found me wanting.

Pausing before the counter of a local bookstore, I weighed up the £100 in my pocket against the five books in my hands: two computing textbooks for work, an introduction to Marx, a screenwriting journal and the mathematics of everyday life. Five into one hundred, it just wouldn't go. I'd have to pick one to leave behind.

The textbooks were a given; they were the reason I came to the bookstore in the first place*. That left me to choose where my loyalty lay:

• society
• science or
• art

Am I the only one who imagines these situations have symbolic importance?

What made it all hollow, though, was the way I was (substantially) undercharged at the till — and chose not to say anything. This might sound like a bit of a non-event to many people, but it's a big thing for me.

I am betraying the values I once placed above my life.

Maybe it's just continuing the over-dramatisation, but that's the best I can do to explain it right now. I'm more noticing this as something to mull over, rather than throw myself off the Tower Bridge.

Either way, it seems that London has changed me. Or is it simply living that has changed me?

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* Even though I own copies of them already, I need at least one of them for work and shipping them from the other side of the globe is just not practical.

And you thought Lee Tamahore was creepy...

Good old Uncle Ghastly has given us another reason to never trust Mark Hammill.

If you see him on the street, do not approach him. Remain calm, walk away and call the police as soon as you can.

Still breathing

Ooh, look! A post!

Since Christian moved out and took his Internet connection with him, I've been somewhat disconnected at home. I really need to be alone to post properly, so Emily's place is usually a no posting zone. Blogging from work is a bad idea, too, so that's why you haven't heard from me in more than a month.

I'm house-sitting this weekend, though, so I finally have some private Internet time. Well, not house-sitting, exactly—more like room occupancy and Internet stealing while Emily and her friends have a suprise girls' night out in Ireland for St Patricks Day.

That's all for now. I might post again soon and tell you all about Edinburgh and Lock Ness, or about the fancy Brussels hotel. I'll try to dig up some photos!