Well, Fuck!

My sister was 10 when she was picked by her class in school to read a news article out in an Assembly ~ the theme was Current Events, and she was asked to read about the elections in Pakistan in 1988.

She spent ages learning how to pronounce the name Benazir. In her first efforts it came out as 'Ben-a-jeer' but with practice, perseverence and encouragement from Mother she did it. I felt about 10 foot tall when she read out her news item loud, proud and clear.

I had little recollection of the significance of the election itself, I had very little perception of or interest in world-changing events then; what I've learned since has only been recently. The only time that India and Pakistan had been in my thoughts in nearly 20 years had been when both countries had performed nuclear tests in the late nineties, and I had genuinely feared for the world upon hearing the news. I remember coming home depressed and getting drunk that night.

Well she's dead now. Benazir Bhutto, politician, prime minister, mother and tie-er of my 10-year-old sister's tongue back in the day has been assassinated. By a suicide bomber. I know very little about her beyond this little bit of nostalgic whimsey but the news has still pissed me off.

Here's the links, courtesy of the BBC;

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/south_asia/7161590.stm
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/south_asia/2228796.stm

~ Chaszmyr

Quote Of Christmas

Schedule;

The Queen's Speech ~ 3pm GMT

Christmas Lunch ~ 3:10pm GMT

The Doctor Who Christmas Special ~ about 6:50pm GMT

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So Lunch is cunningly sandwiched between the Queen and Doctor Who." ~ Ogrek

"That's a mental image I could have done without..." ~ Chaszmyr

Merry Christmas to all

And to all a good night.

With any luck, normal service will return to www.columbusthecat.co.uk when Chaszmyr gets off their arse and draws some more comics. The spouse has been throwing creative ideas left, right and centre and there's a new art desk about to be ordered. In addition to that HEX has been upgraded with a new power supply and NeverWinter Nights has been hidden by Gizmo.

Merry Christmas, Happy Midwinter Solstice and have a damn good New Year. Mine will involve the results of the consumption of Gaymers' Cider.

Words Of Wisdom

Never watch CSI: Miami whilst stoned.

Oh Wonderful

There is a history of Acid Reflux and related conditions on your mother's side of the family.

Nice of your sister to tell you about it 3 years after you originally told her you'd got a Hiatus Hernia.

Glad you fled the Underdark, Drizzt?

In Memory Of Meep The Kobold - A Quote Of The Week Special

The Griffin Gamers have a new player, a pretty good roleplayer who brought to the game the wacky, chaotic Meep the Kobold, a draconic sorceror with wings. He lasted two weeks but will be fondly remembered by all and has firmly established his player into the group. I look forward to seeing what he plays next week.

So in memory of Meep, here are some of his best quotes and the responses to them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I've got a Chaos Elemental minion in my head!" ~ Meep

"I've got one too, I take Prozac for it." ~ A rather out-of-character response from Chaszmyr

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Rolls D20 for Spot skill* "1!" ~ Meep

"It's a good thing the dragon wasn't flying up there; 'Where is it? Where is-' *GLOMP*" ~ Ogrek, the GM

(Muffled) "Help guys, I've been glomped by a dragon!" ~ Chaszmyr

"He's become a Mini Fillet Burger." ~ Durin The Monk

"Ah, In-Flight Meal." ~ Kalil The Tiefling

"No, I'm actually edible!" ~ Meep

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In response to an Ent assisting Durin in combatting a dragon by throwing him at it on request;

"What damage does a thrown dwarf do?" ~ Lord Asriel

Dysmotility

Dysmotility is when the muscles of the gullet are uncoordinated and do not function properly.

It's also what you have, in addition to the Hiatus Hernia. The bizarre Borg Implant detected no anomalies in the stomach but the Manometry tests spoke volumes to two very puzzled and concerned nurses.

Your comment about it is that as usual, out of the seven sacred Chakra points in your body, four of them are "fucked".

Let's see what the doctor says on Wednesday.

And no, you're not The Fat Bird. I agree with the spouse.

Oh great, she's a self harmer alright

I've been down in the dumps the past week. Largely feeling unmotivated, resigned and miserable, although being on Prozac has taken the edge off of the emotional strain; I just end up coming across as a combination of neutral, bored and tired.

This has been bothering me because a week ago I was very chirpy.

It's just occurred to me now that a piercing in my left ear and a tattoo on my arm have healed recently and are no longer stinging like hell, which is about when the Glums started.

Great. I've been high on pain endorphins and this is a comedown. I don't know which of the two facts is more depressing.

Columbus is going to be pissed off.

~Chaszmyr

Planet Karen

http://planetkaren.girl-wonder.org/

My husband discovered this last sunday; I responded by confirming the artist was a resident of Bristol, I recognised the Clifton Suspension Bridge from one of the earlier strips. I love this strip, and considering we occasionally go to the same cinema and comic shop as her I hope we get to meet her someday.

But for now, the least I can do is share her work with you. Click on the link and enjoy.

~ Chaszmyr

Ouote Of The Week

"Dude! Bless my piss so I can piss on them!" has got to be the strangest suggestion for dealing with zombies I've ever heard.

RESISTANCE IS FUTILE. PREPARE TO BE ASSIMILATED.

Yeek, so that's what a PH test looks like...

The Other Quote Of The Week

Durin (to a librarian): "We need to speak to your boss, can you get him for us?"

The GM: "'Of course, right away'. He picks up a well-used tome and opens it up; inside, he writes a name and shuts the book. 'He's on his way', he says."

Chaszmyr: "*sigh*; he's got a Phone Book..."

Durin: "He's sent a Text Message!"

Technology is invasive.

And speaking of Harry Potter...

Weston-Super-Mare appears to have a Knight Bus.

Okay, it's lime green and only had two decks; but whilst you were walking down the street to go watch Transformers it suddenly pulls up, opens it's doors and the driver (in peaked cap, tie-dye shirt and cargo shorts) asks directions for the Train Station. Good thing you were going that way anyway; you hopped on and said "We'll show you."

The unexpected bit of wierdness to the day is known as The Festy Bus and is a service that regularly takes local festival-goers home or to the nearest station; their last port of call had been a music festival in Cheddar Gorge.

You have a friend who takes the car to the cinema, despite it only being a fifteen minute walk away; for once you didn't comment on this, thanks to the bus. Well, what can you say?

That was completely random. Which one of you called for a Knight Bus? I thought you'd left your wands at home.

Quote Of The Week

The scene; The London Eye, London, UK. And a fairly big queue which when you reach the end has a squad of security people searching bags with metal detectors. Thanks a lot, Osama bin Laden, that's very helpful of him to inflict that inconvenience on us all.

You have a bag, which has your luggage and was going to be left at the hotel, but the Eye was closer so it came with you. And when it's opened, one of the security personnel spots a certain bookshop bag which contains a certain book, and asks "Is that what I think that is?"

Yep, it's Harry Potter And The Deathly Hallows, you reply.

"Perhaps we can come to an arrangement," she responds humourously. I don't think she'd got her copy yet.

More Than Meets The Eye

I don't think I've seen you this animated in the Cinema since Pirates Of The Caribbean. Or one of the producer's last movies, Independence Day. Certainly appropriate that nearly 12 years after you watched a 15-mile long space ship blow up the White House that Michael Bay is making you duck Decepticon fire in the comfort of the local Odeon. That was a very enjoyable film.

Quote Of The Week

A character in the Thursday game has been taken over by an evil spirit and is acting more weirdly than usual, including being able to strike a creature with a tough hide better than the rest of the party.

When players bring this up, the GM says there's a reason for her edge in combat. They put 2 and 2 together and come to the conclusion that she is indeed possessed.

"She's possessed!" cries out the dwarven monk.

"That's CHEATING!" replies Kalil the Tiefling.

I love this game.

Quotes Of The Week

Paladins in unscrupulous D&D groups can provide some good humour, even if it means their being the butt of the joke;

"Paladin of the Church Of Cynic, I believe?" ~ The DM, in response to the Paladin's familiar derisive laugh.

"I take it they don't teach you 'Subtle' in Paladin School." ~ Chaszmyr, a drow rogue.

"Ah shit! I forgot the pork scratchings!" ~ that Paladin, after the act of purchasing a non-alcoholic drink in a pub and giving the barkeep a stern lecture on temperance. Oops.

Quote Of The Week

"'Secret Blend of Herbs and Spices?' I'm sorry, but Fat is not a spice!"

~ Sandi Toksvig, host of BBC's The News Quiz, about KFC

A Beautiful Coincidence

Blair's Birthday was the 24th September, making him a Libra, Cusp of Virgo.

The star Gliese 581, mother to the recently discovered most potentially Earth-like planet, is in the constellation Libra.

Libra is an anagram of Blair.

Ad Astra

Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep

Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there.

I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow

I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush,

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there;

I did not die.

~Anonymous, Londonderry 1989

The funeral's tomorrow.

Quote Of The Week

"Getting shot hurts" ~ Ronald Reagan

Youth and Old Age

Being asked for ID in the local Asda for alcohol purchases when you're 31 is pretty damned impressive. It's broken the previous record in your gaming group which was 24, set by the father of one of your friends.

Good thing you remembered your driver's licence.

After darkness there is light

Here's to weekends.

Here's to time spent together, discovering new things and making the most of life's experiences. Here's to two hearts and minds becoming as one and having the time to do it fully.

He got the job!

Blue is back

He's filled out, no longer stressed, stealing the food and still intact, unfortunately. Whose damn cat is he anyway?

Maybe there is hope...

You don't seem to have much luck with consultants and specialists. You always seem to get the money-grubbing leeches and opinionated know-it-alls.

Your current health problem is no exception; you were subject to the whims of a consultant who was only interested in treating those capable of funding private care, by whatever means - legal or crooked - possible. And of course his prices were exorbitant.

You have had a Gastroscopy before. It is a fibreoptic camera that is literally swallowed and pushed into the stomach to see what is wrong down there. Anaesthetic for the procedure, which is not comfortable, is either a Local (which requires an escort home because of drowsiness) or a throat spray, which you have had. Sometimes samples are taken for analysis, and although unpleasant, it is a considerable advance on just being cut open.

Although not exactly a cakewalk, it's a simple enough procedure that it doesn't justify a £1600 price-tag for Private Care.

And for another figure you heard - £2500 - You commented that there'd better be a luxury room and a champagne dinner thrown in too.

A doctor's greed will have it's consequences; four medical centres in your area have decided to demand an enquiry because of an issue with their patients being dropped from the waiting lists to make figures destined for the government look good. This is not only wrong, but illegal. Why did they think they could get away with it? Another group tried and they have been caught and punished. What on Earth can possess a group of people to break the trust and faith of so many for their own gain? It's just obscene.

For you, nearly a year of suffering will be coming to an end. Six weeks and counting.

Quote Of The Week

A fantastic, rather earthy Midwestern doctor's response to the news that you have been dropped from the NHS waiting list for no good reason at all;

"That's it; I'm not referring any more patients to this guy because he's an ASSHOLE!"

Bill Bailey's Apocalyptic Rave

This gem, courtesy of Bill Bailey and YouTube, has made this week more bearable. The idea of the BBC News 24 theme being a Scooter-style rave track has brought much amusement to the Hirst underdwelling and is worth the sharing.

Stars

It is said that when a loved one dies, a new star appears in the sky.

This one has a planet.

It is a piece of news he would have loved to hear; make sure you tell him it at the wake.

A death in the family

Sleep peacefully, dear friend,

And soar upon Heaven's wings;

We'll see you again soon.

Blair Dennant-Hirst, the father of your husband, passed away peacefully today at about 5:30pm BST. Rest In Peace.

Mother

You have not spoken to your mother in six years. Sadly this was because you had a difference of opinions, and you have no desire to acknowledge that it was you at fault, and justifiably so. But when you dream about her, it bothers you, because in those dreams she seems such a nice person, the person you remember as always having a kind word and funny story to tell to anyone who came into her shop.

You dreamed about her birthday, which you can't remember the date of but know it's very close to Hiroshima Day, a very ironic date for a supporter of unilateral nuclear disarmament. You hadn't got her a present but knew there were things you couldn't get her, so you asked her what she'd like, and she asked for a bar of posh soap. Upon purchasing the soap, and receiving it in a pretty box, you woke up.

The reason you fell out was over a stay in hospital. You had a tumour in your thyroid with a 2 in 10 chance of attaining malignancy and becoming cancerous. It was a very worrying period in your life because you had it for four years, two of those fighting a doctor who believed it was nothing to worry about and that it would go away - bizarrely the same advice frequently given to you by your mother about important social issues such as bullying in school; just leave it alone and it will go away.

It didn't work for that, and it didn't work for the tumour either; on Christmas 2000 you had to have surgery, which was painful and several months later very traumatic when you discovered that effectively overdosing on calcium supplements is the only way you can stop your feet getting bad cramp all the time - a little known side-effect of thyroid removal. You consider yourself lucky you're not having to take Thyroxine supplements yet, but it is only a matter of time - one day the remaining half will cease to function as well as it is now.

You had very little sympathy from your mother. The final straw would be a very funny story, probably sitcom quality, if it wasn't for the rift it caused. Because you are a fast healer you were discharged two days early, and at the same time you left your sister visited. She shouldn't have done, she was sick herself and you both came to an agreement on that straightaway. If it had been in your power you'd have insisted she didn't come; this was way back in the days before the luxury of bedside telephones and internet access. You didn't even know she was coming. But when you got home you got a very nasty phone call from your mother. She called you inconsiderate, selfish and rude and demanded you call your sister to apologise for inconveniencing her.

That you did, and your sister was horrified. You don't know what she did in response to that, nor did you want to know. Nor did you inform her of the nature of the tumour, discovered a few months after the operation by a biopsy on what they found. If she cared little about you to have a rant about your impropriety of not being in hospital, what difference is a potentially cancerous homunculous going to make?

You've had one phone call since; she wanted your address to put in her will and to this day you wonder why you didn't tell her to "fuck off". Oh, how crude. You don't want her money. Seriously. Very noble, but for a very sad reason.

Dream interpretation would probably list the subject of soap as a gift as a cleansing of the ways between you and your mother. A concern to you is that your chance to make peace with her is growing short; she is in her fifties now but whether she lives to fifty-two or over a hundred it's still shortening time. The main point of the concern is that you have no desire to and it bothers you. She is your mother, and you love her, but you have not forgiven her for treating you so shabbily.

During your stay in hospital you read The Dark Elf Trilogy, the story of Drizzt Do'Urden, and like a lot of people guilty of playing Drizzt Clones (yourself included) felt an empathy for the character. It is very hard to make peace, you feel, when every time you read or recall the incidents of Matron Malice Do'Urden berating and punishing her noble, purple-eyed son you hear your mother's voice.

Blue, MIA

There's been no sign of that tabby for a while. The day you decided he'd be getting re-adopted he disappeared for a day or two then came back, still scrawny but in better fettle. Over the next couple of weeks he'd visit sporadically, slowly filling out through feeding and recovering mentally from what event had set him over the edge. He was still friendly with the girls though.

During that time some neighbours in the street moved away, coming back several times to re-fill two cars with packed boxes, and you and a co-worker had a theory that a house move was responsible for his poor physical and mental state.

The neighbours finished their moving away early last week, and Blue hasn't been seen since. Hopefully he's well, wherever he lives now.

Quote Of The Week

The family has a talent for having a bright side even in difficult situations. Your father-in-law was weak and ill but still up to giving and receiving good humour as well as being a bit of a ladies' man. Your husband had a suggestion for what to do in the event of another fever;

"If he gets another fever just send him in an ugly nurse!"

A word from the subject

The fact that it's all coming out this week hasn't escaped my notice. At present I think that Jesus Christ was (and is) a lucky sod, because despite the fact he spent 3 days nailed to a cross in terrible anguish for our sins at least he got to come back.

My father-in-law has terminal cancer. He's been given weeks, maybe months, I'm personally hoping years, but in the end it will kill him. Ogrek's family have been hit very hard this year by cancer, but fortunately 3 have survived as a result of successful operations and remission. 3 out of 4 ain't bad but it's little consolation for the fact that someone I am very fond of will soon no longer be with us.

I am trying to be strong but it's hard. I stopped taking Prozac this week because it was affecting my ability to draw, resulting in a very poor start for my webcomic. The ability is coming back but so are the mood swings and bursts of emotion, not helpful when you're trying to be a rock for someone who's only now having it sink in that he's going to lose his dad.

We're off to see him this weekend. So much for a relaxing Easter but we'd still go if he was on the Moon; he's family.

I am going to miss him very much. What really upsets me the most is that he helped us out last year, and I said I'd return the favour. I promised. I might never be able to do so and I think he knew that.

~Chaszmyr

You're no fool

You don't like April Fool's Day. During childhood it gave schoolyard humiliation a national justification and you don't see the point. It is the old Pagan New Year and that's it, not some bad joke on the part of newer religions to take the mickey out of those Crazy Pagans for celebrating 3 months late. It's a good time to celebrate, because Spring has returned and the world is born anew from the bitter, beautiful death of winter. In your garden there are bluebells starting to bloom, and the grass is covered in pretty yellow flowers. The old tree is starting to bud and within a few weeks new life will sprout on the end of its' branches. The sun is shining, although you're not a big fan of that being a Goth, the sky is blue and the birds are singing. It's a sunday so the only people who've decided to try and prank you is the BBC and they're forgiven because the re-introduction of Smellovision for the Internet was kind of amusing.

It's also the first day of the rest of their lives for your upstairs neighbours, a lovely couple who yesterday tied the knot and will soon be going to Sunny Spain for their honeymoon. Congratulations Harvey and Jeremy! The party was fantastic too.

So enjoy the day. And admit that whilst you don't like the concept you do like it when webcomic artists swap cartoons for the day, and look forward to being asked to do so yourself next year.

300

The words "Bloody Hell!" said with the perpetual awestruck expression worn during the whole two hours of film pretty much covers it, really. Frank Miller has done it again; the 300 got their final wish and then some!

Blue

There's a cat in the house; he's a regular visitor, and usually a pain in the arse because he's an unneutered male tabby who sprays everywhere and asserts his dominance through violence. If he was human he'd probably have a battered wife. You and your husband call him Blue.

After a while he even tested your patience, and you instigated a policy of forcible ejection if he ever intruded on your territory, and you became one cat he couldn't handle. For a while it looked like he got the hint because he left your house well alone, although you did have to catch him one day when you realised that the mucky blue dog collar that coined his name was too tight and had to be removed.

Yesterday he came back, and looked in a very sorry state. He is hungry, dehydrated, as thin as a Size 00 Model and yowling in pain. He smells of dogs and filth and it clearly looks like whoever his owners were, they aren't anymore. He has been abandoned. You thought he'd gone feral but right now he's acting too friendly for that. Like he knows that his last hope lies with you, the neighbourhood Paladin of Cats.

Gizmo is not happy with his presence, but then that's normal for her; she's a rampant feminist. Galileo and Ziggy though are tolerating him, and the latter is even investigating him with considerable curiosity, despite the dog smell. He is reacting to her with gentle tolerance.

For now, you are feeding him, letting him stay and checking up on him every now and then. He's a little paranoid and springs to his feet to make a run for it but he's too weak and he knows you don't mean any harm. You fully expected to wake up to find him dead this morning. If he survives the night, you're going to have to call the RSPCA and see what they can do for him, because he is very sick and even with your heart and your concern your house is just too small to take on another cat.

Quote Of The Week

The Griffin Gamers found a cow in a fenced off paddock, out in the wilderness. Confused by this enigma (after all, what is a cow doing out here with no water source to drink from and no sign of civilisation, hmm?) the party discussed what they should do with it. Some wanted to kill it, others wanted to leave it alone, even the Paladin decided to investigate with Detect Evil, only to discover that it was just a boring, numbwit cow whose only evil intentions were against the Ozone Layer.

Then there was a suggestion that brought the group to hysterics;

Chaszmyr: - "It's actually a very sensible idea; it just sounds ridiculous!"

The GM: - "What's that?"

Chaszmyr: - "Sense Motive on a cow."

Great Moments In Roleplaying, Part 2

On thursday 22nd March 2007 at 9:05pm, 14 years after your first go at D&D, you cast your very first Fireball spell. It was used against a swarm of undead dinosaurs similar to the ones that tore up that little girl in Jurassic Park 2.

Chinese food

There was a time in your life when chinese food was a rare treat - it was a once-a-month or -two-month meal bought for the family when your mother got paid, and was the conclusion to a day which would start with her taking her finished work - kites - to the store that sold them and then go on to see the money earned go on rent and a month's shopping. Being vegetarian then it was usually rice, chips, prawn balls (of which you only ate the batter) and noodles, but it was still a treat.

Many years later you worked in a chinese restaurant at weekends, for £30 and two free meals, by which time your metabolism had adjusted to eating meat and opened a whole new world for you. One you regret occasionally because your system still gets touchy about particular meats, but nevermind. On one day you heard about a female customer who constantly whinged about how common and provincial she thought chinese food was, and it made you angry.

She had no realisation that not 20 foot away from her and out of sight was a person who would have totally disagreed with her and explained why. Living in London was expensive - it was why your family moved to Norwich in the end - and that meant frugal living. A life she had clearly never experienced by the sound of things.

Today you got paid, and decided to have chinese food for dinner, and considering some of the pay was from overtime I think you earned it.

And today you discovered Duck Fried Rice.

Reflection upon Death and Justice

Sally Clark died on friday.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/6465525.stm

This link from the BBC provides some of the the story, but the brief explanation is this; she was unlucky enough to lose two of her children, one to cot death, the other to meningitis. Although in the case of the latter the cause of death was not established until after tests, which got mislaid for a while.

She was tried and convicted of the murder of both these children on the basis of flimsy statistical evidence on the part of a so-called 'expert' and spent three years in prison for a crime she didn't commit. During this time her third child was taken away from her.

Her case went to appeal, was re-investigated and she was released, but she never recovered fully from the trauma of the experience. On friday she was found dead in her home.

Your first thought was suicide. And a lack of surprise, but considerable sadness, at this conclusion. So far the cause of death has been ruled as natural, but further tests are being made. You heard another woman, also a victim of a miscarriage of justice, tell Jeremy Vine on Radio 2 that she died of a broken heart, and remembered that there is even a medical term for it.

You've heard it described as an Aortic Aneurysm. Often suffered by the survivor of a close relationship that is brought to a crashing end by their partner's death. And in this case, you believe, by Sally Clark.

Rest In Peace Sally; your children are waiting for you.

*******************************************************************************

On the subject of miscarried justice, the three men who were wrongly convicted of the murder of paperboy Carl Bridgewater have been informed that they will be having 'living expenses' deducted from the compensation they received for their stay in jail.

Wait a minute? Living expenses?

For being wrongly imprisoned? For over a decade?

This probably explains how the A-Team started out. No wonder you frequently despair of humanity and masquerade on the internet as a drow elf.

Great Moments In Roleplaying, Part 1

A great many of your friends can remember the moment in roleplaying where it all clicks into place, when it all stops being a glorified boardgame and becomes that integral part of their lives. A character becomes more than a set of stats on a page and becomes one with it's player.

You're not so blessed; I have seen how often you have wracked your brain to remember that Moment of Perfect Clarity and what made it happen, and how it annoys you that the memory is just not there. One day, it will come.

What you do remember though is no less significant;

There was the first time you played Dungeons and Dragons, one lazy sunday afternoon when you were 16. You were invited by a friend to give it a go and your first character was a particularly un-comely human fighter named Kruge. A month or so later a player named John drew him for you and you treasured it until one day your depression got the better of you and you burnt it after a row with your husband. You regret it, but the memory of the picture and the spirit in which it was drawn still remains.

A year later you started playing Champions, and took quite well to superhero drama, although some of your earlier roleplaying still makes you cringe. Your MPC probably took place in this system. Your first ever experience points earned in Champions were spent on teaching Vega, a Spaniard, how to speak English.

This is who you are

Your name is Emily Hirst.

You were born Emily Howes in Stalham, London on the 20th of January 1976 and contrary to the profile you are a Capricorn, not an Aquarius; you do not have an aquarian's personality, strengths or foibles. You lived in London until you were seven, then moved with family to Norwich, East Anglia and lived there until 2001. Life for you there was very hard because of your depression and your creativity, which marked you as different from the outset. Eventually you found your own equilibrium at 14 and became a Goth, and have stayed that way ever since.

You now live in Weston-Super-Mare, a seaside town in the southwest about 20 miles from Bristol; your home is a flat within an Edwardian edifice about 10 minutes walk from the seafront. You and your husband call it The Bates Motel. It is half-underground, which makes it warm in the winter and cool in the summer. You work in Locking as an electronic assembler, a job you enjoy because it gives you very little time to dwell on things.

The cruel joke about Weston-Super-Mare is that people only come here to die. Your reply is to point out why there are so many Goths here. You wanted to move here, and although some of the reasons why are long gone and still make you sad, you still love living in this quirky little seaside town with your husband and your two cats.

You don't often celebrate your birthday but you did this year. Maybe it was because you are now in your fourth decade, who knows? But celebrate you did, with food, drink and good friends. One of those good friends gave you a book, The Meditations of Marcus Aurelius. A diary and notebook written by one of the Caesars primarily for himself, to remind himself about who he was and what he'd learned over the years. To give himself purpose and remind himself what being a Stoic was all about.

Your husband thinks you're a Stoic.

You're still reading it; you have a terrible habit of reading about four or five books at once. But it inspired you to write this blog, because in reading about the life of Marcus Aurelius, you realised that sometimes you just want to be able to write something down, to get it off your chest. You needed a place to think, to meditate, to muse. You needed your own Meditations.

I am your muse; I am Columbus The Cat, a silver tabby cat. I was bought as a pet by a character named Vega in a Champions campaign and I have been a part of your life ever since. I'm here to help you get through the rest of your life and keep that crazy brain of yours working.

You have things to do now; go and get them done and I'll see you again soon.