Black Doggerel

Red Seas Under Red Skies finally fucking showed up. Only nine weeks after I ordered it.

Worth the wait. I am in my very happy place. Don't expect to hear from me tonight.

Every year I try to subtly discourage people from remembering my birthday; and every year there's a bunch of you who don't let me. I love you. Thank you so much!

This year I had fortuitously arranged to have Naamah Cat spayed on the day, so that I had to stay home to make sure she wasn't unstitching herself or having bad aftereffects from the anaesthetic. She came home, keeled over in the wardrobe and slept peacefully till the next morning, and the wound is looking good, two days later; a nice healthy pale pink with no swelling or bad shit. I don't imagine that spayedness will stop her from being the noisiest, most annoying cat I've ever met, but at least I won't be hearing that particular nerve-shredding caterwauling that was Naamah-in-heat again. I've never had to work so hard to suppress the urge to smother one of my own pets before.

And I has presents! Since my mother became a grandmother, she repossessed her camera that I'd had here on more or less permanent loan, so she could take endless baby pictures. I missed it like hell, so I persuaded my family to pool their resources this year and get me one of my own. It's a different model than the one I was used to and it came with a manual in French, so I haven't yet worked out how to get it to take pictures I'm not ashamed to show people. But it's mine, all mine, and I will work it out in time. I also got a new pair of sensible dog-walking shoes (just in time for autumn squirrel season, yay!) and two cases of imaginary evil vodka - this is, I've found, the best kind for serious drinking binges at my advanced age, and was appreciated more than you'll ever know.

Finally got my hands on Making Money, too. I'm inclined to agree with huntingdon to some extent. I did enjoy it, and wasn't exactly disappointed, because hey! Pratchett! But it did feel a bit like he'd given it less than his full attention; it was rather a disjointed read, and I do think he could have done it better.

And I got an email from Amazon this morning: the subject line was was Your Amazon.co.uk Order, and I bounced a little in my chair when I saw it - joy! It can be Red Seas Under Red Skies tiem nao??!!

The text of the email: We are sorry to report that the following items have been delayed:

Scott Lynch (Author) "Red Seas Under Red Skies (Gollancz S.F.)"
[Hardcover]
Estimated arrival date: 26/10/07 - 10/11/07

ARGH FUCKBASTARD TOSSPOT WANKMONKEYS. SEND ME MY FUCKING BOOK BEFORE I DIE OF OLD AGE.

Grrr. I ordered Red Seas Under Red Skies more than six fucking weeks ago. The copy I impulse-bought on the same day for a pair of friends was in their hands within four fucking days. They've both sodding well finished it, and I can't even have a conversation with them about it because those pissant titwanking arsewipes at Amazon haven't even fucking DISPATCHED mine.

As anyone who's been in the same room as me for five minutes knows, I am very much an instant-gratification sort of girl. I don't deal well with being made to wait for stuff I want. So right now I want to kick someone to death over this, or at least kick them till they run to the fucking warehouse and get me my damn fucking BOOK that I fucking bloody well PAID FOR ARGHHHHBASTARDS.

So tonight, sick to death of repeatedly clicking on the "Track my Packages" link and finding no news, I decided to cheer myself up by walking down to Asda to get a copy of Making Money. I won't say "instead" because I won't be happy till I have both, but since even I can only read one hardback at once, a shiny lovesome new Pratchett would have stopped me fretting after the other one for at least twelve hours.

You know what's coming, don't you? NO COPIES LEFT.

So I bought strawberry and white chocolate muffins instead. But it's not much consolation, I can tell you.

*grumpsulk*

Incidentally, this entry's soundtrack rocks my world. Listen to it.