Thursday, April 30, 2009

Dear Cecelia Ahern

I must insist that you cease and desist writing novels forthwith.

Having just completed PS I love you and Where rainbows end, I am honour-bound to inform you that necessary parts of my brain leaked from my ears. Your wanton disregard for pronouns caused my face to twitch so badly, doctors believe I will never smile again. And the dialogue. The stilted dialogue. The...stilted, dialogue.

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

yours respectfully

Me

PATTOTE: Better living through half-way decent chicklit, which this is not

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

I see

Relative afferent pupillary defect (RAPD): An indication of damage to the visual system which is greater on one side than the other. The presence of a relative afferent pupillary defect (RAPD) means that the pupils constrict less when a light is directed into the affected eye than they do when the same light is directed into the normal (or less affected) eye . The presence of an RAPD usually indicates damage to the retina or optic nerve that results in diminished light impulses being transmitted from the eye to the brain on the affected side.


PATTOTE: Better living through wikipedia, even though mostly it generates more questions than answers.

Friday, April 17, 2009

Alas, poor Darcy, I knew you well

I've been watching Lost in Austen on DVD. It's a rather random mini-series about a woman in London who changes places with Elizabeth Bennett and proceeds to muck up Pride and Prejudice, while trying to get the story moving. I have loved Darcy since the minute I picked Pride and Prejudice. But alas, I have realised that he is a twat. I'm distressed.

PATTOTE: Better living through fictional heroes, cause real heroes are thin on the ground.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

A burning question

So I'm waiting for a letter from my neurologist, informing my GP that it's all stations go on the disease modifying drugs so that my disease can, y'know, be modified. Finally today I got a response from the neuro's secretary. Apparently the hospital in Reading outsources their letter writing. To India. No, really.

They send them the dictaphone tapes (how exactly - because if they upload to email and email it, surely it would just be easier to type it here?) and then they transcribe them and send them back here for posting.

So my letter has been written, but some vital details have been left out ("Maybe the tape was broken," she said. "Or maybe they didn't understand something."). So now I have to wait. For my letter. To come all the way from India. Instead of all the way from Reading.

PATTOTE: Better living through carrier pigeons, which I'm seriously considering investing in.

Monday, April 13, 2009

The Book Thief

At first Liesel could not talk. Perhaps it was the sudden bumpiness of love she felt for him. Or had she always loved him? It's likely. Restricted as she was from speaking, she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to drag her hand across and pull her over. It didn't matter where. Her mouth, her neck, her cheek. Her skin was empty for it, waiting.

The Book Thief, Markus Zusak

Wednesday, April 08, 2009

Outrage

Today I got a letter from a debt collector.

On behalf of the library.

I have an outstanding fine.

Pay or else.

WTF???