


Just to let folks know, I'm doing an update on icemem this week, ready for some new features, and to clear out some of the old less successful ones. It's entirely possible it will disappear, reappear, and be generally flaky through until next monday.
Bye for now!

Yesterday, fiction on 365tomorrows. Today, oddly, and with no real effort from myself at all...
One of my snaps in an online Montreal travel guide.
While all this has been going on, I've been investigating my tax returns. Rivetting stuff, I know, but this being the first year I've ever even paid taxes, I'm hoping to get it right. As an immigrant, I'm finding the whole process a little bit more complicated that I'm guessing it is for residents. The deadline is April, but there's theoretically nothing to stop you from filing as soon as 2007 has finished. Except that I'm going to have to wait a month or so for the University to process some paperwork, so I can get my declaration of status. Those of you who have been following my experiences with the wonders of university bureaucracy may see where this is going. A month from now is half way through February, and the provincial offices take about two weeks to process the paperwork once they recieve it.
The question becomes, is a month enough lee-way for academic inefficiency not to screw me over yet again?
You must fight within a lumbering behemoth of red-tape and half-arsery. Defeat the enemy under this condition.
So... now I've thrown myself down a mountain on a huge inner-tube a couple of times, been published, pimped, and petrified, realised I'm back to being poor (it's not so bad this time around), reclaimed my habit of taking random walks, got myself over to the Musée d'art contemporain de Montréal, and wound up talking to a number of people in Canadian environmental governance. Also, I've discovered the best trashy pizza parlour just around the corner from my house.
Unfortunately, I've failed to get my sleep pattern sensible, and (at least so far) the henna won't take in my hair. There is clearly still important work to be done.
I have it in my hands, but I don't understand it. Mirah peers over my shoulder, grins in my periphery, and pokes at it. The amber cloud reacts to the gravity of her digit instantly, particles drifting into a new configuration of spin. As she removes her finger, the light spirals back into something like its original shape, spitting out loops of fire and tiny shrapnel as it goes.
"Where did you find it?"
Physicists of the 20th century

Thoughtfully provided by Mr. Harvey.