note to self:

... in the event of one's hands suddenly deciding to burst into flames as a result of chopping chillis, apply vodka. Liberally. With cotton wool.

In other news not entirely unrelated to webcomics about bands, aliens and stuff, Joss Whedon is completely cracked. So am I, after two days of progression coding. But it's over.

*does victory lap*

Except for the four-hour meeting tomorrow, that is. *sigh*.

Also, The Superest. Competitive superhero design.

Last Night I Dreamed: that khoi_boi and his wife incautiously went away for a few days, leaving me in their house in charge of their 3-year-old daughter - which is, I have to say, an essentially unlikely proceeding fraught with catastrophic potential. In fact, it went quite well, since they'd hired two cars with baby seats for me to use. Highlights included child plus friend spontaneously initiating a session of kiddie-yoga in the garden.

Then I was plunged into my usual dream-campus, which is enormous, completely over-built and filled with odd-shaped buildings, with strange stairs and tunnels and atriums connecting them. The purpose of the dream was (a) to have dinner with d_hofryn, which entailed fondue with lots of meat in a campus dining hall (she's vegetarian), and (b) tracking down the evil SCA person (European SCA, not local) who'd embezzled money and framed someone else for it. Large amounts of guilt for unjustly suspecting the be-framed one.