There are seven votes, so far, on the poll about the renaming of book 3 (currently The Secrets Were Spilling At The Seams). Anybody is allowed to vote, but the poll will finish in seven days time. If you want to get your thoughts in then you have until the end of Sunday to do so. There will be links to this journal on facebook (if you’re a fan of my official page or SaSA) and twitter (they’re posted automatically through a feed), which means you really have no excuse for missing it. The poll is on the right and you are allowed to vote for more than one if you like more than one title.
If you want to become a fan of my facebook page, then please click the image on the left (one of my photos that has been beautifully, graphically altered by Andrew) and it should redirect you if I’ve done everything right. I have a myspace as well, but it’s linked to my twitter so pretty much every update you get on there is the same as my twitter. It’s easier to receive comments there, though, so please feel free to click the link
doesn’t seem to be loading properly today, anyway. I’m not quite sure why that is but it’s not updating everybody’s tweets as it should. Maybe on the seventh day twitter also decided it was a day of rest. Who knows?
Formspring won’t let me ask my friend any more questions, either. My formspring is here
, in case you really are so bored that you want to ask me innumerable questions. I’ve spent about an hour asking my friend (NALGames AKA Andrew McCluskey) desert island style questions. It’s been quite fun, especially as I think you learn more about the way your friends think with those kinds of questions. You can also turn it into more of a story/adventure scenario too. Sadly, it is also another way for me to continue to procrastinate.
I’m listening to one of my cats snoring at the minute. He’s got his paw over his face as usual when he sleeps and is murmuring sleepy things and wiggling occasionally. One of my other cats (the pillow lover, if you’ve read some of my previous entries about his antics) is lying next to me upside down and purring while he has his tummy rubbed, which is an unusual past time for him. He doesn’t really like his tummy touched unless it’s on his terms.
I was going to clear out some clothes that I don’t wear, but I’ve run out of steam for physical activities. There are days when I really want to get on and do stuff like that and others where I simply feel like I lack enough energy to even raise my arm too far. I might have a burst of energy later on, but I sincerely doubt it. It would be rather nice if my dream did come true. It was quite a bizarre dream, but then mine always are bizarre. Last night I dreamt I had a fridge and a lovely big sofa in my room. I’d really like both, but I simply haven’t the space. Of course, the room in my dream was much bigger than this. If my room was bigger then maybe I’d be able to keep things a bit tidier. I just don’t have the space to put stuff and my dad simply won’t help me build onto my desk to make it more suitable to my needs. He’s a lazy, grumpy old man.
I suppose I could attempt it myself, though I imagine that my DIY skills will not fair too well… and I need some pieces of wood.
(Lyrics in title are from How My Heart Behaves by Feist)
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