Referred to by some as the Devil’s Website, Blog Explosion is a way to generate more traffic to your blog. It’s a bit complicated and I’m not good at explaining things but I’ll give it a go. Basically, you register your website and then you start surfing others. You have to stay at each blog you visit for 30 seconds and for every two blogs you visit, you get one credit. A credit equals one visitor back to your own website. Every now and then, while you are surfing, you could win a mystery credit prize, which is an added 5, 10 or even 25 credits to your total.

I watched the first three episodes of LOST on E4 last night, and I just have a couple of questions. Given the acres and acres of ocean that they were flying over, what exactly are the odds of the plane crash landing on the island itself and not in the water? What are the programme makers going to do if the show is infinitely successful but people start leaving? There’s no way to bring in fresh blood on a deserted island. What, another plane just happens to crash? Or, a tribal village that no one spotted for the previous however many series'? Why does no one seem to care that a loved one has died? They were all either travelling alone or the person that matters to them has survived with them? How convenient. Why does whatever is making that noise in the forest, sound like it belongs on Jurassic Park?

Ms. Mac - I must place Ms Mac at the head of my list as I actually stole this Top Ten idea from her. Although a lot of Ms Mac’s entries are about domestic chores and walking up steep hills, she likes Big Brother, has an ever-changing Boyfriend of the Week and makes me laugh. (Link inactive) Dooce - I started reading Heather’s blog a long time ago, before she held the cult status that she does today. As I’ve mentioned before, when things become too popular I start to back away from them, but Dooce manages to keep me hooked. Joshua Called Me - Richard lives in Scotland and talks about computers, games and films. He’s often quite witty about life as well. (Link inactive) Jonny B’s Secret Diary - Very funny insights into living in the depths of the country.(Link inactive) A Girl With A [dot] Com - Pretty rude and outspoken but often with amusing results.(Link inactive) Suburban Bliss - I have no idea why I like this so much. It’s a mommy blog which means there’s a lot of talk of children and family and love and stuff. I think the writing is excellent and is probably what keeps me coming back for more.(Link inactive) Defective Yeti - This time it’s a Daddy blog, but one who doesn’t mention his son that often and refers to him as The Squirrelly when he does. Has some interesting insights on life and love.(Link inactive) Mighty Girl Blog - Actually a friend of Dooce’s (who isn’t?), this blog was created to note down overhead conversations that were interesting or just plain crazy. Yeah, But Is It Art? - Some of the more complex posts go over my head, but can be very funny. (Link inactive) Random Burblings - I often find the font on this blog too hard to read, and have to really be in the mood to do so, but when I make the effort, it’s usually worthwhile. (Link inactive) Disclaimer: This list is a current state of affairs and shouldn’t be taken as definitive or never-changing. It’s a snapshot of life right now and I don’t want it held against me in the future.

Peering out the window today, I saw sunshine. We were at Land’s End by ten o’clock. It was beautiful. Look at the beautiful blue sky. That photo was taken as proof that at least one day was sunny. Our next stop was Lizard Point. We’d done the furthest West and now wanted to do the furthest South, but as we were trundling along through the countryside, Mr C spotted a satellite: Goonhilly Earth Station. It was relatively cheap to get in and we stood taking loads of pictures of Arthur, the oldest satellite at the station.

Having got so close and yet so far away from Truro yesterday, I made sure we were up and awake early enough to beat the crowds and get a parking space. After months and months of talking about it, I finally plucked up the courage to shell out a bit of money and get a new phone. It’s not the one I dreamed about but it’s pretty close. It’s a bit more complicated than my ancient Nokia, and I still haven’t figured out how to put it on discreet or silent yet, and I don’t like the stupid noises it makes when I’m switching it on and off but that’s all I can find wrong with it.

Raining today. My indoor activity for a Wednesday was to head to the Cornish Indoor Market. It’s the largest indoor market in Britain and boasts stalls of all shapes and sizes selling all manner of things. Mr C likes a good market, so I thought this would be a good place to take him on a rainy Wednesday. Apparently, the entire population of Cornwall had the same idea. We are not ones for sitting in a queue. We decided to give up and head to Truro instead.

Looked out the window in the morning, grey skies. Oh well. Today we were scheduled to visit the Eden Project, something I’d been keen to see since it was created. Unfortunately, it’s not worth the entrance fee. The guidebook, however, is really good value. At £4, it was absolutely bursting with information and I have yet had time to read more than the first few pages. I really like the idea of taking an old used quarry (read that in the guidebook) and turning it into something beautiful. I think the recycling image that the Eden Project gives out is perfect. Did you know that the rainwater that collects in the quarry is used to water the outside plants and flush the loos? (Again, the guidebook.) And the bubbles are the biggest greenhouses in the world. (Good god, is there anything this guidebook can’t tell me?) All of that stuff is brilliant, but when it comes down to it, we were there only a couple of hours before we got bored.

Day One was the only day that I really cared about the weather, although, of course, I was praying for it not to rain for the rest of the week. Day One was a surprise, something I’d been planning for a while, since I was at this particular place last. While Mr C was packing, I popped out to collect some bits and bobs for the journey. He guessed that I was planning a picnic.

I love that the village he has gone to is the same one that featured in Chocolat, with some of the same supporting characters and locations. Vianne Rocher has long gone, though. Oh, and Clopette is the best name ever. Okay, it’s for a goat, but still. What I have yet to mention is that the story is told from the perspective of a bottle of wine, which sounds crazy. As the story progresses, you forget who is telling the tale, though, and it just becomes another third person novel. Harris excels, as she always does, with her descriptions. I could feel the heat of summer and taste the scent of berries on the air. I preferred Chocolat, but this is a great sort of sequel.

I’m considering doing Blogathon this year. I’m tempted, I really am. The problem is, who’s going to sponsor me? As a kid, I loved to do sponsored things. I did 24 hour famines (these were tough at the time cos I was always munching, but nowadays it would be a doddle) and silences and anything else you could think of. I loved having a reason to do something, and the sense of achievement at the end was always fantastic.

Mr C and I had a bit of a barney last night. He’s been sorting out the categories on my website, making it possible to stick entries in more than one. So, actually, I think these are tags. But he was adamant that they’re the same thing. Category = Tag. Tag = Category. Well, actually, Dictionary.Com says: Category = A specifically defined division in a system of classification; a class. Tag = To label, identify, or recognise with or as if with a tag.

According to the introduction of the book that came free with The Times, Number Place is the rough translation of Sudoku. In case you live under a bridge and don’t know what this is, it’s a square number puzzle involving placing the numbers from 1 to 9 in the correct places. You know that I’m not one for faddy trends that come and go, and I try and stay away from things if the the rest of the country is going mad for it (Harry Potter? Pah, I’ll wait for the paperback). But Mr C brought this book home and settled down to do it, and I had pretty soon hijacked the pencil and was calculating late into the night. I recommend it, although the puzzles I’m working on now are supposed to be just mild ones and I’m already stuck.

Last year, the Technophobe and I gossiped at the water cooler about Big Brother. That’s right, he knows how to use a television. Actually, we didn’t do that because the water cooler is the other side of the office and we sit next to each other anyway, so that would have been silly. We would predict nominations and evictions, gossip about the housemates and bitch about those that were driving us crazy. It was always a race in the morning to see who could say “Did you see it last night?” first. And whoever did would then launch into an over-zealous opinion of the previous nights events.

It’s rare that I write about the big things on my blog. It’s not very often that I have anything worthwhile to say about something important. Ask me who my favourite pop star is or whether I like cheese and you’ll get a ten-page essay, but ask me what I think about the horrors of yesterday, and I don’t know what to say. Last night, I just sat and thought about what was going on. I couldn’t get my head around it. What kind of a world do we live in where planting bombs is the way to get things done?

This DVD Day featured Sideways but I got bored with that halfway through and switched it off. I did rent Ocean’s Twelve but had to return the films before I could watch it, so look out for that one in another DVD day soon. The main film I watched this time was Closer and I really liked it. I thought the dialogue was brilliant, witty and smart and it kept the whole film moving along nicely. Julia Roberts wasn’t annoying like she usually is and Natalie Portman was good too, although I wasn’t really sure about all the different wigs. Originally being a play, I’m not sure that the story translates to a film very well, but I liked the end result.

Seeing that there is fantabulous progress on the new Tomb Raider game. I’m a bit annoyed that they’re not carrying on from the previous one, and I’m a bit stunned at how much Lara has changed. I’m all for making the graphics better and making her look more realistic, but you’d think she still needs the same basic bone structure. I’m starting to wonder if this isn’t actually an imposter - Louise Croft or something like that.

First I would like to make it clear that I support the cause. You’ve seen the wristband, you’ve seen the banner, you know I do. But I strongly believe that they shouldn’t have repeated the Live Aid gigs. First time round was so special (I mean, okay, I was only 1 at the time but I still know there was magic on the stage that day), the it shouldn’t and couldn’t be repeated.

I’m disappointed. My television has disappointed me. I’ve been watching the new series of Cutting It with interest as the writing has been superb and the acting first class. The storyline with Allie finding out she has cancer was done brilliantly. I read an interview with her in a TV guide and she said she was leaving so I said to Mr C “She’s definitely dying of the cancer.” He said: “How do you know?”

You may have noticed that I’ve been missing for a while, but then again, you may not. Either way, I’m back. It all started when Mr C used the computer and it broke. I’m not holding him responsible but it was fine when I was using it the day before… you be the judge. It only took him five hours to fix it which I think is pretty impressive. The website, however, took a bit longer. My computer is now using XP (boo, hiss) but it does mean I can actually get the iPod Shuffle working (yay!).

There’s something genius about the book, and I really enjoyed reading it, but I’m afraid it went a little over my head. I never really got the connection between the stories. We worked our way through to the middle and then back through the same characters until we were back where we started, and I was none the wiser. I didn’t end the book feeling like I’d gone on a journey with a character and we had resolved whatever problem arose during our time together. I was left feeling a bit bemused.

As you would expect in a Jeffrey Deaver novel, there are plenty of twists and turns, especially towards the end, and it’s never as simple as it seems. I’m used to reading Lincoln Rhyme books, but no matter who the protagonist is, they are a) not going to have an easy time of it and b) going to make a great story as they work to catch the killer.

Flipping between the present day and the past, it’s sometimes hard to keep up with where you are. Although there are clues if you look hard enough, and the writing is smooth and clever so it makes you feel proud when you do keep up. I like the dialogue, just enough to make the pages turn easily, but not so much it seems like a script. It seems like a sophisticated book but without the strength of character, it ends up being a bit self-help.

I mentioned previously that whenever I vote for something, it has the opposite effect than what I’m aiming for, so I’m not voting for anything ever again. Remember that? Well, since I went and sat in front of the television, Andy Murray has gone from two sets up to playing catch up in the fifth set. This is ridiculous. Does that mean I can’t watch tennis anymore either because they’ll all lose? What if I pretend to start rooting for the other guy… will I fool it? Either way, I couldn’t bear to watch anymore.

If I wanted to see this much sun, I would book a holiday to Spain. Well, first I would get myself a passport, but that is a trifling matter. It’s too hot. It’s too hot to write much. It’s too hot to post any pictures. It’s too hot to think up any more words, let alone 101 of them. It’s just too hot. In fact, the only thing it’s not too hot to do is sit in front of the television watching sweaty tennis players hit the ball between themselves, and dream about strawberries and cream. (Damn that Henman, why do we pin our hopes on him every time?)

Not Spongebob, obviously. The person who bought me Spongebob.

I started trying to do some stuff on my site last night (mostly involving forms and validation and stuff like that), and I got stressed out and gave up. This website is the hardest thing I’ve ever worked on, and I’m really, really proud of the fact that I haven’t given up with it. It’s probably the longest project I’ve ever embarked on and I’m still interested in it and want it to be better. That’s impressive for me, the girl with the attention span of a gnat.

The BBC have got information on the new Pay as you go road charges idea. All the reports I’ve been listening to on the radio and on the tv and reading on websites are all fuming about the prices, and the inconvenience. Environmentalists are worrying that more car users will travel on smaller roads. Commuters are concerned that they’ll have to pay more. All excellent points. But I haven’t heard a single person mention the fact that the government will be tracking us. In our cars. Wherever you go in your car, they will know. Uh, hello, Big Brother??

A raisin dropped in a fresh glass of soda will bounce up and down continually from the bottom of the glass to the top. On average, 12 newborns will be given to the wrong parents daily. (( I don’t vouch for the truth of this, but it wouldn’t surprise me! )) The first product Motorola developed was a record player for automobiles. At that time the most known player on the market was the Victrola, so they called themselves Motorola. Bananas grow pointing upwards. Some Eskimos have been known to use refrigerators to keep their food from freezing.

Dear Strictly Dance Fever people, Are you freaking kidding me with this? Sadie and Joseph? No. I know they’re brilliant choreographers but Danny and Jodie should have won. Dear Big Brother people, Why kick out dear ol’ Mary when you could have kicked out boring Craig? I mean, at least Mary was interesting (if a little too interesting) at times. Craig has done nothing but sit around and bitch about the other housemates without really taking the time to get to know them.

There’s something about Elton’s writing that I find really grating. It’s supposed to be satirical, a poke of fun at the Hollywood industry, but there’s something about it that comes across a little snobbish, a little egotistical. That being said, it was funny to read, but I think a lot of the more snide comments passed me by because I just didn’t want to take them on board.

I couldn’t quite work out where this story was trying to go. It seems like your typical holiday read with two guys and two girls, romance, jealousy and plenty of other relationship troubles. There’s another strange dream-like therapist that talks to Arthur throughout the story, and I don’t quite get where that part was going. There’s a lot of talk about destiny and bloodlines and there’s a bit of a twist at the end. Ultimately, I found it interesting but quite confusing.

You may not hear a lot from me for a while now. Packing up everything we own commences this weekend, the move takes place during the week, and then of course, there is the tedious wait for broadband. How will we survive? I won’t be able to check my gossip and Mr C won’t be able to check for Formula 1 news. We’ll be unbearable. Think cold turkey, think withdrawal symptoms, the works.

… Believe me, there is nothing, and I mean nothing, more boring than people wanting to describe their dreams to you … Trust me on this, it kills relationships stone dead. The day one partner wakes up and starts saying ‘It was amazing, there was this rabbit in a bowler hat cooking an omelette…’ that’s when love dies. Scaramouche, We Will Rock You But, I’m going to anyway. Just in time for the weekend, I woke up on Friday morning with an intense sore throat. You know what that means? A cold coming. And, as expected, throughout the day, my nose got snifflier and sorer and sneezier. I hate the feeling of knowing that I’m gonna get sick and there’s nothing I can do about it. Anyway, I don’t actually feel too bad, a bit woozy, but it’s mostly my nose that’s stuffed up. This, of course, results in a lack of ability to breath, which results in a lack of sleep. Or bizarre dream-filled sleep. So, here you go.

After months of bad weather, I actually managed to get a nice, sunny day and one where I didn’t have to work. So, I hot-footed it to Marwell Zoo and spent a couple of hours there snapping pictures and looking at the cute animals. There were a million kids there, along with their mothers and the pushchairs. In fact, I’d go so far as to wager a bet that it was actually a pushchair convention, considering I don’t think I actually spotted anyone without one. Perhaps it’s the new ‘black’. I don’t really understand the point in bringing a kid that young. If it’s not old enough to be able to walk its way around the zoo, I don’t think it’s old enough to appreciate the difference between a leopard, a tiger and next door’s tabby.

Second attempt at The Whole Ten Yards. I didn’t think it was as good as the first one, and was disappointed with the way it started, but I got into it about halfway through. With that achieved, I settled down to watch Strictly Dance Fever, which was brilliant, and has, of course, bumped my old favourite dance, to be replaced by the Charlston. And I’ve narrowed down my favourite couples to just three. Only Lord Of The Rings, Casualty, a pack of Doritos and some of the coke separates me from my bed, where I can relax and hope for better weather tomorrow. (Which, by the way, will include Birth and National Treasure.)

Mixed up with the smart conversation are plenty of descriptions, intrigue and thrills. Each chapter, each page, makes you want to read onwards. I felt like I wanted to know more about what Darby was doing as she was doing it, but that lack of information helped the mystery of whether she would be successful in the end or not. I may be alone in wanting to know about her actually chopping off the beloved hair and dying it a different colour.

I can’t imagine a situation where I would want to go on an extended trip to visit someone else’s family by myself, even if it is the in-laws. Laura travels to Cornwall to stay with her husband’s family, and she makes fast friends with everyone - until a letter arrives that accuses her of having an affair. One of the problems I had with this book is that a lot of the characters are just too good to be true. All very polite, all opening doors for each other, pulling out chairs. Perhaps it’s just indicative of a different time, or a different generation, but I found it quite hard to swallow. It was written in 1984, so perhaps I am not being generous enough with it.

I’ve been looking into some interesting software for helping people get the most out of their writing. Whilst mine has very much taken a back seat for the last year or so, it’s still something I think about from time to time. I note down ideas, plan chapters, scribble out some dialogue, that sort of thing. I downloaded a nifty little piece of software called Writer’s Cafe, and I really like it. It gives so many options to plan and store ideas and chapters and snippets and notes, and anything else you can dream up.

Dirk Pitt is his exact same self. I have read some of the newer books first, but Pitt is the same in those as he is in this. Always up for an adventure, fearless in the face of adversity and incredibly strong, he manages to overcome practically any obstacle. There are times when you have to suspend your belief, but I think that comes with the territory. I was a little confused by the Congresswoman character. She is supposed to have an on-again, off-again relationship with Dirk, but whenever I’ve read the books they are on-again. I must have missed the off-again stories.

I don’t really know why I read this. It was on the bookshelf of a family member, and I was sitting near it, so I opened it and began to read. The story of Paul Burrell and his relationship with the Royal Family begins with his early years and how he got a job at Buckingham Palace. The information about dragging round Corgis every single day, twice a day, to how he became a butler and what that entails was absolutely fascinating.

I’m often told that if I’m going to watch television so much, I should take the time to watch educational programmes instead of Emmerdale and ER and such. I’m all for learning about stuff. I thought Journey Of Life was excellent, although some might think that a TV vet should probably stick to what he knows best and not try to be a presenter. I also started to really enjoy Adam Hart Davis and his What The [insert particular era here, ie, Romans] Taught Us, but that finished a few weeks ago. Given all this good education I’ve been getting, I thought I would give the BBC’s tale of Genghis Khan a go. Did not approve.

One big problem I had with this book was the sheer number of characters. It started off quite simply with just the narrator and his family, and the accused and their family. Then there was a victim and that family, three hospitals, doctors, scientists, police, reporters, friends, relations and goodness knows who else. By about halfway through I was getting very confused.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot and I have a question. At the end, it turns out that he was frozen, awaiting the time when he could be unfrozen and medicine will have progressed far enough to fix his face, and in that time he was having the Lucid Dream treatment. This meant he thought he was living but really he was dreaming and he could choose how the dream went, although he didn’t realise he could do that. I know, it’s crazy, I didn’t really get it either.

Michael Schumacher breaking down for the first time in about three years. Mr C was over the moon and you could actually feel the happiness radiating from him for the rest of the day.