I can see! O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!

On Thursday afternoon my glasses went PING! I frantically tried to get an appointment with Vision Express, who I have used for the last few years, and found I would have to trail to Ocean Terminal. Alas, the buses are actually as bad as people say and by the time I got there I had missed my appointment. While there I asked how much it would be to get some frames I had (bought about a year ago from eBay) glazed and discovered that it would be £79! Plus £5 if I wanted to get them speedily. So I investigated further, and ended up with an appointment at SpecSavers on Friday afternoon. I had discovered that SpecSavers would give me two complete pairs of glasses - one could even be prescription sunglasses - for something in the region of £85-£95, so I gave up on using the spare frames. I looked through their online catalogue and compiled a list of possible frames, which I sent to people who might have useful opinions and reply quickly.

Apparently my tear film is a bit pitiful and the surface of my eyes is showing slight dryness. Eyedrops, please Mr Pharmacist!
So I went through the fraught process of selecting frames while blind. In the end I went for Damson and Odie (the latter was actually on my list - w00t!).
The Chad left us on Saturday. I was saddened by this as he had turned out to be the sort of person I would deliberately spend time with. We chatted while I was making dinner on Friday, and despite the subject of religion coming up, he being a Christian, I wasn't stoned to death and he wasn't crucified. It's a rare thing for me to get a good religious discussion.
In the evening Ollie and Jenny and Lorraine and I went to Tesco (yes, this IS something worth talking about, as you'd know if you'd ever been to a big supermarket with me or Jenny). While awaiting the silver carriage, Ollie challenged me to take an 'interesting' photo of a tennis ball that was lying in the mulch. Apparently this was a success. On the way back from Tesco Jenny led us astray and Lorraine and I ended up walking halfway to Fife - or so it seemed - from Cramond. Sunday was a day of nothing. I hate long weekends, they're so dead. I went for a wander around Bruntsfield Links just to get out of the house, but that was about it. Monday was a day off work, but I had Other Job to look forward to, so I couldn't DO very much with the day. I discovered to my delight that Cory Doctorow's new novel, Little Brother, had been released - as usual, under a Creative Commons license. I promptly downloaded it and started reading, while poking around with Photoshop and rearranging my neverendingly frustrating hard drives.

Little Brother is very good. WAS very good. I continued reading it on my phone while sitting on the bus and then, when I discovered that the Other Job was also closed (dammit, if I'd realised I could have Done Something with my day!) I sat and read it in Starbucks. And then finished reading it in Starbucks. Three hours later. It's very zeitgeist-ey, filled with YouTube and Flikr and Google and other references to the Here and Now, but that's because it's set pretty much Now and is very much to do with the internet. I've liked most of Cory's books, but I don't think I've ever sped through one quite so ferociously before. Having just done something similar, albeit over a couple of days, with Erasing Sherlock, - golly I want more Faction Paradox novels! - this is hopefully a sign that, post-Bronte, I can remember how to enjoy reading again!

On my way home after this, addled by thoughts of internet security and being watched by Them, I discovered the Meadows, filled with cherry blossom and people having Fun In The Sun. This led, of course, to a flurry of photos, some of which I was quite pleased with.

Value for Chocolate

I seem to find myself in arguments on the subject of Easter Eggs this year. First Jenny was black affronted and rendered near speechless by my purchasing of and then eating of an egg, pre-Easter. Which I punished her for by force feeding most of it to her while she was driving. Just, you know, to ensure she's going to Hell or whatever.

I was then debating the price of chocolate eggs with my mother. She said that they were a terrible ripoff and i was quick to point out that, actually, they're not bad usually and anyway it's about the shape and the thinness.

So, of course, when I next found myself near a pile of eggs in Tesco I paused for longer than it usually takes to decide which to buy (and I'm rather indecisive) and did some sums.

My egg of choice on this occasion was a 185g Flake egg, for 99p. This size of egg comes with two bars of chocolate and an egg which fits comfortably into my hand. Just. To buy two bars of Flake would usually put you back around 90p-£1 so the egg, which is approximately 100g or curvaceous joy, is effectively free! And on top of that you get a bundle of packaging - Yum.

Last year, post-Easter, Tesco had six-packs of Creme Eggs reduced to 10p each. The previous year we stocked up on 100g bags of Mini Eggs, reduced to 10p each. It's almost as if Tesco have captured the floppy-eared pascale Santa and are using it to produce avalanches of chocolate which, to them, is effectively free.

In conclusion, buy the 99p Easter Eggs because they're the best value chocolate EVA. And go to supermarkets on Easter Monday.

Counting the little pictures

Stephen: What comes after Seven?

Me: Um, Eight?

Stephen: Yes, but in terms of little pictures?

I think being back at Tesco has drained poor Stephen's vitality so much that he has forgotten words like Kanji. Either that or having to learn tons of them has sent him into a self-inflicted spiral of amnesia.