I meant to do stuff today, but it seems I've gotten side-tracked with other things, namely working in Photoshop. I haven't even bothered to shower... heck, I'm still in my nightgown. It's already dark out, my day is half over. Yeesh. It's okay, actually, I'm committing my Christmas card ideas to file and arranging them for printing, tweaking the colours and giving them captions. It's not all a loss.

I've been chatting with the fellow who seems to be the power behind Cool Collecting and it looks like I'll be reviewing Philcon for the site, and possibly Pandemonium when it happens. I might offer up some sci-fi/fan art for the site, too, as he seems to be keen on that idea. Hey, good for me. Now, if only this stuff paid the bills, you know? Oh well, maybe in time. Anyway, Photoshop 7 is just dandy. It's a lot like 6, but has some new handy features and it seems a little better laid out. I'm having fun.

My downstairs neighbour, who lives in the basement, is the landlord's brother. I've never met him, but we put our rent cheque under his door everymonth. Anyway, I'm pretty sure it's him that smokes, and the smells waft up through the vents. He smokes cigarettes, which smell vile, and he partakes of good old marijuana. I never used to be bothered by that smell, it's sort of pleasant, but it's less pleasant when I'm not participating in it. Something I almost never do, anymore. He does it pretty commonly, though, and it's quickly lost it's charm. I can smell it right now, in fact. The fumes were part of the reason why Nick covered his vent with duct tape. I'm thinking about putting a note in his door that says something to the effect of, "Hi, could you crack a window when you smoke up? I don't enjoy it coming through my vents. Thanks from the second floor." It's not very rude, it's not angry, it's just a reminder that there are other people sharing this house and the smoke. I might just do that.

I feel kind of Christmassy today. I'm listening to Handel's Messiah right now. Tanya will be performing it with the choir she's in, and I would love to hear her sing it; however; it conflicts with plans that I already have. Hopefully, Rick and I will be able to go see it performed by the TSO and the Mendelsohn Choir later in December. Few things raise the hair on my neck as much as, "The trumpet shall sound..." I remember once seeing The Messiah performed (as we did every year) at St. George United in north Toronto and feeling very sleepy. I could hardly keep my eyes open, and not because I didn't enjoy it, but I knowing that I couldn't fight it, I whispered to my mother, "Wake me up at the trumpet part." I didn't need to be woken up, I opened my eyes just seconds before it happened. I must have slept through the Hallelujah chorus and everything. I missed most of the second half, I guess, but for the trumpet, I awoke. I think it's sort of symbolic.