The Domain of Steven Pinnacle of Paperless Perfection


The morning after

Also known as, get your shit off of Mike's side of the room before he moves in.

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I broke three digits. Thank you, English diet.

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Excuses excuses…

I saw my first rainbow today. It was awesome. The weather went from a downpour to cheery sunniness within the space of five minutes, and we were treated with some welcome warmth as well as that marvelous arc.

The pictures today would have been of that lovely sight, but my camera broke about a week ago, the result of a sharp drop on the floor. The official fix is to send your camera in and pay 75% of the original price. The unofficial fix, which has a surprising number of success stories, is literally to smack your camera against a table. This is perhaps the only case I have ever seen where the correct response to a hardware malfunction is to give it a good whack.

Sadly, it did not work. (Though it was fun trying.) I still have enough post ammunition left for the few days I will still be here, including a particularly juicy post that I've been putting off. Tomorrow night is really the only full night I'll have left, as Thursday night is a farewell dinner (at a pub, of course) and Modern Jive, Friday night is London, and Saturday night is a plane flight that will only set me forward one or two hours due to the time difference. They will be an exciting few days.

Pictures are from my aimless wandering through Bristol.

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More of a hole in the wall, really

The strangest part about England? That a small produce store two blocks from my dorm has a perfect record of only having absolutely gorgeous women working their tills.

Pic unrelated, obviously.

This was at a work-sponsored event at the Hotel Du Vin in Bristol, where my BU hoodie stood out amongst the sea of business suits and dress shirts. During the event setup there was a lull in the preparations, so some people went downstairs to the bar to get some coffee and hot chocolate. I stayed behind as I wasn't about to shell out any money for drinks that would be provided later. At least not until they came back and told me that it was free. *bolt*

There wasn't occasion to have anything alcoholic, and I still don't drink coffee, so I found out what English hot chocolate tastes like. Considering the bartender made it from a packet, it was not much different than American hot chocolate, but at least there was a good deal of cute foam on the top. I spent a nice few peaceful minutes sipping away, talking to my boss when he meandered down, before I headed upstairs for some networking as guests arrived.

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