Too many good things, not enough rant space

Good things:

1. Haruki Murakami. Why has it taken me so long to read any of his stuff? I now have to make up for lost time and read everything he has ever written. 'Jagger Unauthorized' will just have to wait.

2. Doctor Who. Of course, to me, a self-confessed Whovian, Doctor Who is always good. But the first episode of the new season, which aired last night, was *gooooooooooood*. Now I am all conflicted as to where my loyalties lie: with the 'scrawny-but-sexy' (as my mother put it) previous Doctor, Christopher Eccelston, or with the new Doc, David Tennant, who could be anything at this stage, but most of the things he promises to be are gooooood.

3. 4-cheese pizza. Or pizza de la fromage quatre, as we know it in more civilized circles. The cheeses in question were: English Applewood (that is, a delicious smoked cheese), Caprakaas Goat's Gouda (a mild, firm goat's cheese), Grana Padano (the younger, more mild of the 2 Italian parmesans we have at the shop) and Roquefort (and yes, eating it again made me travel back in time to the 60's, but that's another story for another time). So delicious. So good. So cheese.

4. Getting out of the shower or a bath and wrapping oneself in a warm towel that has been hanging over the heater for the duration of the shower/bath - anything from 7 minutes up to 1 hour, if the bath be hot and the reading be all talking cats and strange libraries (thank you, Murakami). I find, the longer the better the warmer the towel. Ah, to be wrinkly like a prune always.

5. Red Square. Sorry, this is another cheese one, but it is good and this is a list a good things. A light washed-rind, soft, ripe, just reading for eating. Slightly stronger flavour than a regular brie, as I tell my customers. This on a biscuit with a bit of quince paste and a nice cup of tea. This is good.

6. Talking to Erin on the phone, calling from Thailand. Crackly but good to hear her voice, possibly the least depressed she's sounded since the breakup with Julia - which might not sounds like much, but it is good.

7. Writing a list of good things, putting good things into words, black on white, squiggly little characters with dots and lines and funny things. There, solid, in existence. To remind oneself of these things. And that it doesn't matter that one's boss leaves a bit to be desired, that one hasn't even really begun the so-called novel one is meant to be writing this year, that the look of one's bank account means no serious travelling for me when most of my friends seem to be jetting off to exotic places - even housemate Kate is this weekend in Adelaide (yes, 'exotic', ha!) Because you don't have to go far to find good things and when you have them, you should notice them. You should say 'If this isn't nice, what is?' And sometimes that's enough.

8. Realising that should the novel one had planned to write this year take longer to lift off the ground than one had hoped, there's always National Novel Writing Month. Which is November. Why write something over 12 months, when you can cram it into 30 days!? And anyone can do it! So get thee to a nunnery. And go to their website on the way. This is my back-up plan. Nun, novel, November. Nun, novel, November. Good, no? I think so.

9. Eugene Hutz. Gogol Bordello. Gypsy Punks Underdog World Strike. I know most of you won't get the pure joy that this refers to. But it had to be said. Nothing rocks like crazy Eastern European drunk gypsy punks rock. As he puts it: In the old time, it was not a crime.