Music and Blasters and Old Jedi Masters

Just in case anyone thought that there was the slightest chance of me not being a sad and pervy individual at some point in the future, I should point out that I dreamt about Eliza Dushku last night. She was very, uh, demanding.

I'd like to just reassure people that I don't have dirty dreams about loads of famous people all the time. The only famous person I have dirty dreams about is Eliza Dushku. I may be sad and pervy, but I'm also consistent.

At other points in the night I also dreamt that I witnessed a car crash (caused, not suprisingly, by some silly fucker in a sports car trying to jump ahead of another car in unsafe circumstances) and then called 999 with a throat too dry for me to be able to speak (anyone else find that happens a lot in dreams - the lack of speech ability, I mean?), and then at some other point (whether it was earlier or later or some other dream entirely I have no idea) that I was sitting in a car next to Comedy Dave from Radio 1. He asked me something about where we were going, but I forget what.

Today I continued to progress towards the end of KOTOR. A certain plot development I was expecting occurred, which naturally was no surprise. Thankfully the surprising plot development from Friday was still enough to be getting on with.

Last night we went to a Wedding Reception for one of Alison's friends from Wind Orchestra. There are a few things of note to mention about this.

Firstly, it was nice to see the proceedings from a less involved perspective.

Secondly, since the bride had a number of musical acquaintances there was a live wind ensemble/band/whatever, doing mostly jazz stuff, with the occasional vocal piece. The vocalist was a petite lass whose voice belied her build. Best number of the performance? They did I Will Survive, and my friends they did it well. Singer, not suprisingly, seemed to completely love doing it. Who wouldn't? When the DJ played the original version later on during the disco it seemed, well, flat.

Thirdly, too many adults know all the moves to Saturday Night and The Macarena.

I should point out that last week in my account of how Alison and I met I made a small error. The bar names. The Resnikov Bar is of course the upstairs bar in the University Union (or at least it was), the John McCarthy bar was still called the John McCarthy bar when we met (and still is, as far as I know) and is of course downstairs. As Ros is at Hull at the moment I'm sure she'll bring me up to date on the bar names.

We bought some more plants for the front garden today. The front garden is the one with all the gravel. We got an ornamental grass which will apparently form a tussock but which currently sticks out of the gravel as little more than a tuft, and two heathers which will eventually spread to the point of intermingling. In theory.

Got a text from my Dad yesterday morning saying "Just finished Revelation Space. Wow." "Wow" was more or less my reaction when I finished reading it too, from what I remember. Obviously, the wow came after Alison had helped me put my brain back in. Anyway, looks like my Dad is now another Alastair Reynolds convert. Dunk, get on with it.

I'm going to bed now.