The selling-shit-off thing actually worked out better than I expected. I'm down to just two or three items left and they aren't exactly the ones I expected to fly off the shelves. I cannot believe someone is actually taking the TV: that thing is so HEAVY. I feel like a weight has been lifted from my soul.

"How was your long weekend?" Well, it was fine. Not long enough. Sarafina and I had a pretty decent day of just lazing around doing nothing on Saturday, which we haven't had opportunity to do in a good long while (and probably shan't again for a while yet). But I coulda done with more of it. Actually all in all I'm in a very "nesty" mood these days. I wish it was winter, because I seem to crave little more than bed and vidja games, but it's just too goddamned hot at 3QF to accommodate my need. I am forced to go outside, where parasites are choc-a-bloc and the radiation ball rules. Is a little self-imposed agorophobia really so impossible to achieve in August in Toronto? Apparently it is.

Speaking of August: Brian K. Vaughan's meticulous re-work of the 2003 blackout within the fabric of the Ex Machina storyline is really rather breathtaking. As Shortbus pointed out, there's a unique relationship between 9/11 and blackout '03, and also a lot to do there in terms of massaging our own fond recollections of the night the lights went out (vs. the morning CNN would not go away). In narrative terms, the summer of '03 also makes for the middle of his storyline, doesn't it? I am liking that title more and more with each book that comes out.

Sockvivor continues. I've thrown away my lucky socks - I guess sixteen years is simply too much. Things are getting lean around my place - more and more stuff siphoned off to 108, to friends, to the trash heap. I feel cleansed, for the first time in forever.

I have a fondness for Star Trek III that is disproportionate to its worth.