Overheating

The air conditioning has packed up in our apartment. I got home tonight to find the cat looking confused and upset, draped over the sofa. She followed me around the apartment, flopping down on the floor and mewing piteously, which was upsetting, because that was what I wanted to do.

Running in the (prickly) heat

Yesterday I came down with heat rash, possibly the result of unwisely wearing a t-shirt under my shirt, and walking around in 33 degree heat, while still dazed, confused and sunburned from the junk on Sunday. Heat rash is vaguely disgusting, patches of inflamed bumps across your flesh, but it gave my fiancee some amusement as she held a bag of frozen peas against my back. Even strong men squeak sometimes, and I hold few pretensions about being strong.

Roasting again

I woke up at 7 this morning, which would have been annoying if I was suffering from air conditioning, but much worse as I'd stayed up until 2am last night watching Max Payne.

Out in the woods

This morning I was crouched in the woods out on Lantau, with three other topless men, rubbing the thighs of one of them.

No, it's not like that. He was barely capable of standing, from the cramp produced by riding in today's ridiculous temperatures, and we had to do something to get him mobile.

Good weather in Hong Kong

Shockingly good weather today; I woke up with the sunlight streaming in, and then hurt my head by trying to read Anathem. It's been on my bookshelf for over a year without me getting round to it, partly because of Neal Stephenson's technique, which is to make every book he writes longer than the previous one. And since I made the mistake of buying the hardback edition (so I could get it earlier - and then spend more time not reading it) I fear doing terrible injuries to my spine when I pick it up.

After all, almost ten years ago I put my back out reading Mary Gentle's Ash - and though it was a thousand pages, it was only a paperback. Hence my reluctance to start on Anathem.