Dec. 5th, 2002

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Ahhh. Back again.

(Varus, Varus, General Varus, screams the stamping crowd, give us our livejournals back!)

I had a image for something that might happen at the end of Saiyuki Gaiden, but I don't know whether or not I'll do anything with it. After all, if I get it wrong, then I will be niggled at by the fact that I know it's not right, oh the personal shame, oh the ignominy, and if I get it right, then I'll probably still end up looking at Minnekura's eventual visuals and muttering, "yes, but it wasn't exactly right." I feel like Harriet Vane in Gaudy Night, refusing to buy an out-of-period chessboard for her new gorgeous chess set, because she'd always feel obliged to tell everyone that, well, it was out of period and inappropriate to the pieces. It annoyed me then in her, and it annoys me when, more than once, I've come across the same attitude in myself.

The Great Christmas Food Rush has begun at work; that is, people have begun bringing in casual boxes of biscuits or cakes or mince pies or similar in the run-up to Christmas, and given that I'm on a corridor of offices, this means that there is much food around the place. I was going to try to diet. Really I was. (Score today; six chocolate biscuits, a satsuma, and a mini mars bar, and it's only the 5th of December. Wince.) The season of raffles has also begun -- well, this is a hospital, so there are plenty of wards and departments and other groups staging raffles or tombolas for charity. I realise that the only way of winning anything at all is to definitively renounce all hope of so doing, but I'm bad at that.

---

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