netgirl_y2k

Thank you to everyone who offered advice on my last post about anxiety and panic attacks, it was very helpful, and not that I'm taking pleasure from your misery or anything, but I think there's a certain degree of "you are not alone-ness" that does help.

Between the sudden proliferation of brain-weasels and some kind of mutant flu thing that I still haven't managed to entirely shake most of February vanished right out from under me. The flu I blame in equal parts on Tequila Boy and the Scottish national rugby team.

See, we were watching the six nations and becoming confused by Scotland's sudden ability to win matches (once by playing really quite well against Italy, and once by playing rather badly against an Ireland side who couldn't find the try line with both hands and a map) and there was a lot of uncalled for hugging and sitting with our arms round each other. It turns out that twelve year old baby!lesbian me was right, close physical contact with boys will lead you to a bad end.

So, mostly I have been lying under a duvet, reading and feeling vaguely sorry for myself. Which brings me to my excuse for posting, really, February Booklog.

Kushiel's Dart - Jacqueline Carey
Kushiel's Chosen - Jacqueline Carey
Kushiel's Avatar - Jacqueline Carey
Cold Days - Jim Butcher
So Much Pretty - Cara Hoffman
Etiquette and Espionage - Gail Carriger

So Etiquette and Espionage is a YA prequel to the Parasol Protectorate series, but I don't think you really have to have read the first series to follow this one, apart from the bit where you will be tickled pink when you recognise young Sidheag Maccon and baby Madame Lefoux. Basically it's about an all girls finishing school/secret academy for spies and assassins, with steampunk, and top hat wearing werewolves, and lines like "Who doesn't want an exploding wicker chicken?" I ate it up with a spoon and am already highly anticipating the next one.

So Much Pretty I picked up because of this review which was doing the rounds on tumblr. The review is excellent, the book sadly less so. It jumps around all over the place, different timelines, different tenses, different povs, and the ending is just one twist too far. It's strange, because I think that coming of age moment lots of girls have where you realise that with the best will in the world there will always be those who see you as ever so slightly less human than the boys is something that should be written about more rather than less, but in the end I thought it was an interesting novel, maybe even an important one, but not necessarily a very good one.

Cold Days is the first Dresden Files book I have really enjoyed in, well, quite a few books. It's also the first one in a while, what with Harry's sidestep into being a bit dead, where I felt like the overarching plot was moving on a bit. Although maybe that's just that the fae courts are my favourite part of that world, and I love the idea of Harry and Molly being more involved with them, also that I don't share a large part of the fandom's fascination with Marcone, so I didn't so much clock his absence.

The first Kushiel trilogy I read on a recommendation from a friend, and ended up liking it much more than I was expecting to. They were books I'd passed over before because of the bdsm themes (obligatory disclaimer: making no judgements, etc) but in the end I rattled through them. Loved the characters, adored the worldbuilding, loved that the driving conflict was between the heroine and her fascinatingly Machiavellian female lover. That said, I'm taking a break between the first trilogy and the second because there are lots of dub-con elements in there that, yes, are mostly pretty delicately handled, but after three long books have cumulatively gotten to me, so I'm going to read something completely different next.

I've gone off rugby all of a sudden. Can't think why.

We did talk about going to see this weekend's match, but, eh, it was being played in Aberdeen. And frankly we're about as likely to see Scotland play Tonga in Aberdeen as we are to see them play Tonga in Tonga.

Lucky I saved myself the price of the train and admission, really. If you can't beat thirteen Tongans in Aberdeen in the freezing cold then, really, you don't deserve supporters.

On a cheerier note, Sunday lunch with the family today and Sister was bitching about the hours at her new job.

Sister: What I really need is one of those things that Hermione had in Harry Potter, you know, that let her be in two places at once. What was that called, again?
Sister: *looks at me*
Mother: *looks at me*
Father: *looks at me*
Me: I resent the implication that that's the sort of thing I'd know off the top of my head!
Me: I know things, useful things!
Me: ...
Me: Although, for the record, it's called a Time-Turner.

You know, I know I should be used to this by now, but I honestly don't understand how that even just happened...

Anyway, for those of you who are not insanely over-invested in Scotland's baffling rubbishness at rugby, allow me to share some fatherly advice my dad gave me, apropos of nothing, this afternoon:

"Blakes 7 is better, but Red Dwarf is more useful in day to day life."

So from the second day of the rugby world cup we learned that England have a discipline problem, Scotland have a not dropping the ball and running away like fearful marmosets problem, Argentina can't kick, and Jonny Wilkinson is one of the most overrated players in international rugby. Oh. Wait. I knew that last one already.