Nicked from Onna's blog:

Hmm...


Otaku Level 3


What Stage of Anime Fandom That I Went Through Are You At?
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The cubs' father saw my Cardcaptors boardgame.
"Oh noooo," he smirked. "You're not otaku..."
..... Humph. Smartarse.
I do know however, without looking it up, that that's Revolutionary Girl Utena in the pic above. Heh.

There was a mouse floating dead in the bath a couple of days ago! Bloody cat. Fair enough, there's the possibility it fell in all on its own and drowned but given KK's track record...
And I found a skink's tail in my bedroom the same day. My first thought was 'where's the rest of it?'

At the beginning of the year I was finding the prospect of taking the cubs to school by bus every day daunting. Funny how you get used to things. Catching PT now is kind of meh. : )
I've got heaps of reading done, though.

Ah, I'm having lots of fun riding the wave of creativity - and who'd've thought my roleplaying experience with deck-plans for spaceships would come in handy? <g>

Now, shamelessly copying Joules, I'm posting a wee snippet of mine from our next project. What are we going to call it, anyway?

    Three steps. Three steps and it would all be over...
    The haggard black woman stood in the shadows well back from the doorway, her stooped body quivering towards the dawn light. She ground her teeth together and curled her fingers into her palms so tightly it would've drawn blood from the wounds, if she had blood to draw.
    Three steps and an end to the memories. It would be such a relief...
    She couldn't do it, couldn't bring herself to step into the light. With her 're-awakening' the fog had lifted from her mind and now while she still longed for death she also, perversely, didn't want to die. Before the change, to die would have been nothing, an easy step from one state to another with no regrets but now, without the madness of despair to buffer her, dying would be a terrible loss of self, an emptiness she couldn't face. But why live, if living this could be called?
    Her babies, she'd killed her babies...
    She shut her eyes against the growing brightness and stumbled back into the gloom. Time to feed, then rest. She turned her back on the deadly radiance, turning her attention to the faint stirrings of life hidden within the tunnels. She ignored the small motes that were rats, they weren't worth the effort, but a little way off to the East... Hannah adopted her customary stance - shoulders rounded and head lowered - and shuffled further into the litter-strewn warren, muttering darkly and incoherently to herself, to all appearances another lost soul of the streets.
    Hanna mused on the appropriateness of the 'dregs' of society congregating in the disused railway tunnels. The hopeless, the insane, the anti-social: they were the unwanted sediment drifting downwards to the lowest lying areas of the old city. She'd lived amongst them for years before... Well, before she'd had her choices ripped away.
    There was barely any light in the chamber but Hannah had no trouble discerning the various, malodorous shapes huddled against the walls or curled up on relatively luxurious cardboard beds fashioned from flattened-out boxes. Ah, home...
    None of the room's occupants showed any sign of noticing the newcomer as she prowled amongst them, eventually choosing a bare patch of wall in the corner furthest from the entrance. Hanna swiftly settled herself against the crumbling, cold bricks then after a furtive glance around picked up with great gentleness the wrist of the man snoring beside her. She pushed back the tattered sleeve and sniffed at his skin. None too clean, but how long had it been since that had bothered her?
    The man stirred in his sleep, moaning softly for a moment in pain or arousal before lapsing back into deeper slumber. Hannah licked her lips and tugged her grimy anorak closer about herself, letting her head drop to her breast as she too slid off into sleep.