And yes, it is a sign of how bored I am that I just spent an entire entry chronicling a cricket match. Tomorrow, Axver reviews the colour of his carpet ...
I believe I am highly qualified to review the colour of my carpet. I have lived here almost a year, I have walked on this carpet almost every day during that timeframe, I have vacuumed it occasionally, I have spilt spaghetti on it, and I should not fail to mention that I am thoroughly vision impaired so any observations I make have an extreme possibility of being completely and utterly wrong. A babboon locked in a cage in Siberia could be given the name of the carpet's manufacturer in only partially accurate hieroglyphs and would still be able to describe the colour to a greater degree of accuracy than I can. However, I have never let this sort of thing stop me from reading books in very dim light or ordering fast food off menus too far away or attempting to spot my house from a plane on its landing approach from the total opposite direction, so why should I let it stop me now?
My carpet is laid in the lounge, hallway, and bedroom, and thus its colour must meet three strikingly different objectives. Firstly, it must be a warm but gentle colour to make everyday living feel nice and unoppressive. Secondly, it must welcome the visitor rather than appear gaudy. Thirdly, it must be either restful or unobtrusive and inoffensive towards any ideas of rest. It fulfils all of these objectives with unremarkable mediocrity. It is a colour that does not make you feel depressed in your day-to-day living. It is a colour that seems fairly standard to the visitor and does not put them off. It is a colour that has gone wholly unnoticed by me when attempting to sleep. It does not add nor detract from any of these activities, really.
The colour of my carpet appears to be a nondescript shade of grey. It is not a bothersome light grey that reveals every spillage or every speck of dust and fluff and forces you to vacuum every second day of the week. It is not a gloomy approaching-black grey that makes you think of an aging goth whose black hair dye has run out (hi Robert Smith, how are you going?). It is a grey that accomodates your desire to vacuum only a couple of times a month if you can possibly get away with it, but doesn't make you look or feel like a sad bastard. Best of all, although it comes across as wholly unremarkable in artificial light, get some natural light going and it has pretensions to bluish greyness! This is undoubtedly its most positive feature. It makes you look forward to the day and you're more inclined to feel positively towards it. You want to describe it as a "grey blue", which sounds much nicer than "nondescript grey".
Then, of course, you get home of an evening and you notice it's just grey like it's always been. And you have nobody to talk to, at least in person. And you have dinner to cook. And dishes to do afterwards. And your name is Axver and you write articles on Wikipedia that nobody actually reads. Just like how your carpet's colour is something nobody actually notices. It's reflective of your life, and it gets 4/10.
Incidentally, I got my camera for Christmas and hadn't actually used it before this evening. Because I didn't really want the first photographs I took to be of carpet, I tried to take some shots of myself. They didn't really work very well, mainly because when the flash was on, my glasses reflected it to the point that it was worthless, and when it was off ... you'll see below.
But hey, here's something remarkable: my hair is not an almost Einsteinian explosion! When Sam saw me on Boxing Day before I had my hair cut, he remarked that I look more Einsteinian every time he sees me.
And to conclude this entry, Happy This-would-have-been-my-21st-birthday-ha