So I went to Australia and became Uncle Tom, climbed the Harbour Bridge, watched it get blown up at midnight on NYE (the only TLA I really find useful), and found a baseball cap I can live with at the zoo. It's mostly plastic. Jen was there too, lucky me, because she's the sheild I put between the world and me. I missed Christmas with my family, they missed Christmas with me, and we won't be doing that again in a hurry. Well, not for at least another 23 months. I shall gain new glasses soon, and since the insurance company were kind enough to honour my claim, I'll also gain all the camera equipment back that was stolen. I shall honour you all with a new picture. Though maybe not of the glasses, they aren't that interesting. The cat came back, though I think a little miffed, as she immediately punished me by going AWOL for a few days, scaring the wotsit out of me, if I'm brutally honest. She's happy again now, though. I think. The fish were in their own little private world of golfishiness, behind a screen of algae so thick I thought someone had painted the tank. They hadn't. The fish can see again now. Wrinkly fingers. Have dinosaurs, too. 48 of them, 24 individual designs, each repeated. The top of my monitor is like Jurassic Park or something. Not strictly to scale, or in keeping with the actual periods, but who cares? So close to that tattoo, that one I've been thinking about for ages. The one that really, genuinely, honestly means something important to me. Need to do some work, some designing. But first I have to write weird things on thin strips of card. Take care of yourselves, and each other.