Parasol Protectorate, Merlin, and Prague

I have absolutely no idea as to what I'm doing here. 'Here' being the Prague office of my company. I was supposed to attend a meeting with Very Important People Managing a Very Big Factory of a Very Well Known TV Maker -- and so, I flew over (while sporting fever, sneezing every 3 minutes and so on)) yesterday morning, only to find out, at around 2 pm., that the above-mentioned VIPs have forgotten all about the appointment.

Therefore, I am currently seated in a secluded room, dangerously close to the kitchenette equipped with everything I might possibly need (tea, coffee, hot water), and spending my time doing things one should not be doing at work, at all. This includes browsing blogs (I've discovered Gail Carriger's LJ!), reading work-unrelated materials (in this case, Soulless, by said G. Carriger), and pondering things of utmost importance...

...like the premiere of the third season of Merlin.

The Tears of Uther Pendragon is the episode title, and I highly approve both of the title as it is, and of the contents. It seems to be a bit different from the pattern we grew accustomed to in the previous seasons (approximately 1 episode per 1 story as a general rule, with some exceptions), because it's actually a mere opening to a longer plotline -- but you won't find me complaining about that particular story-arch. Femslashy-incest is always welcomed with open arms, especially with Katie McGrath and Emilia Fox at play.

Plus, I think Colin did something to his hair. Something good.

Anyway, while Merlin has been keeping me company at the hotel last night, today at the office I'm all in for some time spent with one Miss Alexia Tarabotti, about whom the goodbooks.com had this to say:

"Alexia Tarabotti is laboring under a great many social tribulations. First, she has no soul. Second, she's a spinster whose father is both Italian and dead. Third, she was rudely attacked by a vampire, breaking all standards of social etiquette. (...)"

I thoroughly enjoy the language Ms. Carriger uses in her prose, as well as the author's humour (please read this interview for further information on that), the characters are well-written and hilarious (honestly -- Lord Akeldama owns me), AND the action takes place in Victorian London. Please do devote some of your time to this lovely creation of a female mind. (Note to Sis: Gail Carriger names her machines -- car, iPod, computer etc. Which is why you should read what she writes.)

Having said that, I'm off to attend a meeting. And pray that my office computer, back in Thorn, finally dies. To prolong its agony even further would have been cruel.