Last night, I was in a room with a score of others, desporting me in forgotten dances. I am a rather clumsy dancer, and passed no two measures with the same lady, that each might have the pleasure of dancing with some other, who might manage a fair leg and fine figure.

I returned home, read a chapter of A History of Islamic Societies, and wrote my "five things I learned from the reading" assignment. Exchanged emails with Park Ranger Girl regarding the registration of her name and device for the Society, took a shower, and so to bed. Only to wake at four of the morning, and not return to sleep.

Off I went to Linguistics, and hence to Islamic History, where we watched a Time / Life video about the Swahili coast and its societies, turned in our five things pages, and then hence.

I returned to the dorm, and got in my car. I'm parked across the street from the dorm, because there's some event of size happening in the Sky Dome this weekend, and they've coopted our parking lot. Drove forth to the bank, where I paid my credit card bill, and then to Wall-Mart, where I paid my bill with them. Drove to the mall, where I got incredibly irritated with the folks at the Verizon store.

For a while now, my phone has been doing something which rather annoys me... if I set the alert sound to be anything other than the default, after a few text messages, it resets itself to the default. So I thought I'd see if there was a later version of the firmware available, and there wasn't. Not only that, but the store tech couldn't get it to perform its little trick. Of course, it took me forty-five minutes to even be able to talk to a store tech, which is the major part of why I was so irritated. It was a clear case of "My name's not on the door."

Anyway, I had lunch, and read some of The Crusades Through Arab Eyes, and drove back to my own side of town. Stopped at Hastings, and picked up Othello and Kingdom of Heaven. I watched KoH when it was in the cinema, but wanted to watch it again, having now better idea of the incidents involved.

Speaking of which... as I read Crusades, I keep thinking of a book I read when little more than a lad, but I can not bring the title nor author to mind... it concerned a young Frank in the crusades, who captures an Arabic warrior who turns out to be Saladin. I remember there was discussion of how a simple Arabic warrior knew nothing of ice, but the Great Saladin served his guests shaved ice with flavors. Does this ring any bells with anyone?

Watched Othello. It is a fine enough production, but I confess that no one seems to have the passion required by the text. Of course, it's the Royal Shakespeare Company, and they are not particularly known for excesses of passion....