"Underground, overground, Wombling free..."

Last night is a fuzzy blur. I couldn't sleep, so I read the collected adventures of the Wombles. When I woke up there were five books and a pile of peanuts on the computer table.
Spent the entire morning pissed off at mother, for her lack of punctuality, and I have to go and see Mrs Williams later, and I don't want to. At all.
Never mind. I want a Wombles icon. I loved them. I still love them. They were cute, they talked, they had names like Orinoco and Wellington and Tobermory, they were the epitome of environmentally-friendly, and they sang. What more could you want?
They were possible the first thing I was ever fangirlish about, at the tender age of six.
I'm humming it. I am.
"Underground, overground, Wombling free, the Wombles of Wimbledon Common are we,
Making good use of the things that we find, things that everyday folks leave behind.

I seem to remember someone on Top of the Pops who was absolutely convinced it was the Verve inside the furry costumes.
This computer room is being closed in fifteen minutes. I'm going to stop...
Here.

Paradise Lost - thoughts

I have so little to say it's quite unnerving.
Tomorrow is my favourite day of the week, seeing as I don't actually have to do anything until eleven.
I was trying to fix the broken links on my section of Paradise Lost earlier, but Pedar wanted the modem.
I was thinking - I know I have a lot of ideas. They can be divided into three neat categories - brilliant, barmy, and bollocks. The last brilliant idea - Paradise Lost. And I'm not bothering to link that every time I write it, I really can't be bothered with the HTML.
My mother seems quite determined to go. She'll fly out some time this week. That will leave me and Pedar, which is fine, because we hardly ever argue or bother each other at all, but in a different way, it's not such a good thing. When it's just the two of us, we both seem to retreat in our own worlds, sharing the modem, reading and writing constantly, hardly talking, forgetting to sleep and eat and breathe - it's my mother who keeps the pair of us with our feet on the ground.
Anyway.
I now need to go and submit Whisper Goodbyes to Heliopolis. I should put it on sadistic_geeks, come to think of it.
I guess I'll think of more to say in the morning.
Ooh - does anyone perchance know what was the first ep of M*A*S*H today? I really can't be bothered looking it up - I missed it, and all I know is that the other ep was the one involving a fake company called Pioneer Aviation and Trapper deciding to desert by crossing North Korea armed with nothing but a duffle bag and eight rolls of toilet paper.
It's cold. I'm shivering in here. The duck on the top of the computer is shivering in sympathy.