delga | Entries tagged with what is this literacy you speak of?

I was supposed to update this weekend and then somehow that never happened. What the hell?

Friday night I saw Nicholas Farrell and Anna Chancellor at the Harold Pinter Theatre. (Formerly the Comedy Theatre.) They were performing in a double bill that transferred from the Chichester Festival which is apparently the place to go for upcoming theatre; a lot of stuff transferred in the past year. Anyway, the plays were South Downs by David Hare and The Browning Version by Terrence Rattigan. Apparently the Rattigan is normally paired together with another play that no-one likes, so Hare was asked to script an accompaniment. South Downs is a funny piece about a school boy who doesn't fit in with his peers because of his social class, his sharp intellect, and complete lack of charm. In the space of an hour Hare covers social and religious discourse with a very light touch, though ultimately it feels like a commissioned piece. By which I mean: it doesn't really close up properly. Wonderfully staged, though, and Anna Chancellor was incredibly charming as the actress mother of the school boy's acquaintance. Pretty certain I heard Stella Gonet in the voiceover.

The Rattigan was crushing; an absolute blow to the gut. Set on a school master's final day it follows him as he uncovers his wife's infidelity, is denied a pension by the school board, and has to come to terms with the knowledge that for all his ardour for teaching, he is not well-liked and probably will not be missed. Nicholas Farrell was phenomenal. Rattigan is bald-faced with his characters; he doesn't let them delude themselves. The play was almost violence in its matter-of-fact tone. I really enjoyed myself.

Work has slowed down considerably because most of what I've built is sitting with someone else to be signed off. As a result I've been suck writing ops instructions (deathly) and building graphics for Adult Learning tests. Oh god. Stab me; we can confirm I haven't died yet and then put me out of my misery.

I don't have a lot to say on fandom. Enjoyed the heck out of the Scott and Bailey finale, and got knocked out by the Glee performance of F+tM's Shake It Out. Finding myself fairly invested in Game of Thrones; this series is a vast improvement on the last. I loved, loved, loved this week's Mad Men, especially Peggy and Joan's office smoke break and everything that is Sally Draper.

I am really enjoying Bron/Broen (The Bridge) which is both intriguing and entertaining. Kim Bodnia's belly laugh cracks me up. The majority Swedish was throwing me at first - especially because the show descends into Danish now and then - but I'm getting better with the switch up. It's neatly put together and doesn't take itself too seriously as of yet. Good stuff.

I finished Jeffrey Eugenides' The Marriage Plot on Monday. Hmm. I can't say that I actively enjoyed it, or that I think it ties up well (it really doesn't) but I found it compelling enough that I couldn't put it down. I didn't like the characters at all, but I enjoyed Eugenides' mad romp through critical and religious theory, and he still has a talent for pulling together real people. It doesn't have the heart of Middlesex or that keening wistfulness of The Virgin Suicides. It's a book about graduates and I think, in some way, it's a book for graduates. It's too close for an undergrad, and too far for anyone else. So. There's that.

And now I'm reading the sequel to The Hunger Games which I'm enjoying much more than the first book. I think this is because the outcome feels less certain. Or rather, the route to the outcome seems less obvious this time. I mean, there's a third book and it's YA lit so I doubt we're going to have a Psycho on our hands, but I'm still wondering, shit, what next? Also: I want to know this Johanna Mason character that tumblr keeps sticking Ruth Negga's face on. Yeah.

Ugh, flaked today. Trying not to dwell.

I came home on Friday to find cake on the table, and I was like, Mother, what the hell with this cake? It's not that I am not into cake, it's just that it was majorly unexpected and I was going to make brownies this weekend, but now that's redundant. And The Mother was all, The Dad was going to sell it off, and I told him we could have it! And The Dad said, oh, M will eat it! And I said, but I haven't eaten it and it's already a quarter gone. And The Mother said, The Dad must have eaten it.

Basically we have to give him excuses to enjoy things.

Anyway, ten minutes ago The Dad is all, M, do you want cake? And I'm all, no, thanks, maybe later, and The Dad was all, OH. BUT THE CAKE IS FOR YOU. And I was all, JESUS DAD I'M NOT REJECTING YOUR HUNTER-GATHERER INSTINCTS I'LL EAT THE CAKE LATER.

My house is so full of drama I can't even.

This weekend and last our floor has been undergoing a furniture refit. They're taking out our desks and replacing them with smaller ones, and some of us are moving to new seats, blah, blah, NO WORK GOT DONE YESTERDAY. There was a cake stall and then a network outage and then rain and then we left the office at three and went to the pub. Should have left at three last week, too, but I was building stuff, and it wasn't our side of the floor that was being worked on, so we eventually left at four thirty. By four thirty yesterday I'd already had a drink, some conversation (one very long one about chickens; my Polish lady co-worker is SO LOVELY you guys), and was on a train home. Good times.

Work on the whole has been weird. It was all BE BUSY GET THINGS DONE YESTERDAY PUT OUT THAT FIRE and then suddenly...zzzzzzzzzzzzip. Nothing to do. So I'm getting back to my "background" project: writing Ops instructions. Jesus, what a bore.

Last Friday I stayed back for drinks and then went to see The Ladykillers which was hilarious and fucking delightful. The set was amazing, and the cast had great chemistry. Peter Capaldi was fabulous. I wish it were still on because I would take all of you. SO GOOD.

Pro-tip: don't watch The Deep Blue Sea. It's a brilliant cast, but a) it's depressing as fuck, b) it's filmed in this soft focus which just adds weight to everything, and c) it suffers the exact same problem as Closer: you can tell it's a play. Rattigan is brilliant, as is the play script for The Deep Blue Sea; I'm going to see The Browning Version in a month or so. I have no qualms with him or the play. But it was poorly adapted. I liked the flashbacks as a mode of storytelling because they were especially effective, and the transitions were seamless. But neither Hester nor Freddie are sympathetic, and Mr. Miller is completely minimised in the film. It makes for a much better play than a film.

( The following wall of text is a paragraph of everything I've watched and found lacklustre this past fortnight. Whilst we're here, let's take a moment to comment on the new cut-tag design which, jesus, GO AWAY. )

Scott and Bailey continues to be terrifically entertaining stuff. I've always been partial to Gill, and her scenes this week were especially gratifying. Can't believe there's only two more episodes left. Going to be gutted when it's over.

I'm reading Jeffrey Eugenides' The Marriage Plot which, as I have said to a few people already, is different in tone to his previous works, and as of yet not as compelling, but I haven't been able to put it aside, which is saying something. It's incredibly meta, and feels both true and somewhat uncomfortable (in that I can relate to the general experience of the lit student, if not the specific). Looking forward to seeing where it leads me.

And then I forgot to complete my post before hitting save.

Helloooo eljay! People who are still alive: you guys; me. It has been long enough that I have stacked up a list of things to talk about, but watch as this devolves into another episode of M Never Remembers What There Is To Talk About, this week with special guest star, me.

I started the new job! Well, no, first I left the old one, and did embarrassing things like hug everyone and cry in public. But then I started my new job! It is...not what I thought it was going to be, frankly, and yet still great. I am at that point right now where I feel like my line manager and the lovely lady who is training me weren't expecting me to be up to speed yet. So they sort of gave me a bunch of stuff to do, and now it's done. And it's not that there isn't work to do, it's just that there isn't the time or the resource to train me that quickly. So I'm just trying to get stuck in, and learn the wider process, and then apply that knowledge to what I'm doing. It's an efficiency game at this point.

Everyone is so young. So young! I mean, like, in their 20s and 30s. That is young! I am used to working with the 45+ age bracket. It's very odd to be working with peers. I am not used to having to adjust myself socially. And sometimes I feel like that girl in the corner of the room that nobody talks to. Because I am, and because I am oddly situated in the room. But at the same time, everyone is pleasant, and helpful, and there are other new people, too, and it's okay. I need to become part of the woodwork, and then things will be less stilted. Half the issue - if there is any issue at all - is that after two weeks in Cambridge, I was left there to fend for myself, and then worked full time until I finished. So it's weird to go from that to a really empty induction schedule.

Things I will only be mentioning once: jesus, getting my IT access sorted has been an epic nuisance, and for something quite straightforward, it has been a colossal pit of nonsense.

And then London set itself on fire earlier this week. Everyone else is talking about it in a more eloquent fashion than I am, so I don't have anything to add, but I will say that for all that happened, I'm glad the actual ruckus seems to be dying down. For a little while, it felt extremely televisual. How Don Delilo.

Oh, hey, so: Spooks' tenth series will be its last, and my feeling is part nostalgic sadface, and part "yeah, okay, it's time". In the meantime, I am trying to write a Spooks-related big bang entry (not what you think; telling you right now), and I'm reading John le Carré's Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy. That's right: a book. An actual novel. My commute is so much more conducive to reading now, even if I can't get a seat on the train most mornings. I'm really enjoying the book, too. It's exactly my thing, and I don't know why I didn't get to it sooner.

Next Wednesday I have the day off, but will be traipsing into The City anyway to see Betrayal, and then Butley. I have the whole of the week after that off, too, and will be spending some of that in the city, and some of that in Edinburgh. That impromptu decision might cost me in several ways but is going to be so worth it, as I'll be meeting up with one of my oldest eljay friends, noorie. Also, you know, Edinburgh. Am currently awaiting a skype call in which we will bash out the details, but my train tickets arrived yesterday, so that's totally happening.

Other stuff? Everyone should be watching The Hour, if only for the delicious Anna Chancellor:

Also, in typical BBC fashion, there are ~spies. Seriously, it's my absolute favourite thing right now.

And that's that. I mean, there's other stuff, but fuck if I can remember.

Kate Beaton, yesssssssss. "Go get your own bro!"

I have to admit: I was not super into the idea of getting an e-reader, or a kindle. Not because I care whether or not I am reading paper or a screen - hello, avid reader of fanfic - but because I have so much tech already. Laptop! Phone! Tab! iPod! The idea of having to tote around another thing that needs to be charged, and made scratch-proof, felt like a huge effort, especially when you consider that e-readers are supposed to help you minimise baggage.

Jesus, I love my android-powered gear.

I've got two apps now, one for Amazon, and one for WHSmith, and now all my android tech doubles up as an e-reader. I bought Dorianne Laux's The Book of Men yesterday, and now I have it with me ALL. THE. TIME. I love that. I love that! I can't wait until Waterstones' app starts dealing in e-books. Then I can use my points! SO GREAT.

This doesn't change the fact that I haven't read a novel in an embarrassingly long time, or that I have a bookcase full of stuff I need to read first. But it does mean I have poetry on me all the time now, and that is awesome.

Idiot that I am, I just signed up for Ladies Big Bang. Mostly because my Yuletide entry a couple of years ago was 10k, and that convinced me that I could probably do it again? Uh. I am the worst. Just the worst at making decisions, as this clearly shows. I am considering a few things to write about, and no-one is going to want to read them, and I probably can't do the word count, and I am a fucking moron, but it's happening.

Anyway, I expect cheerleading, guys, for fucking serious.

Did I actually properly talk about my weekend? It was ACE. Well. Saturday was ACE. Most of Saturday was AC-- you get what I mean.

After some plan-changing, and a fucktonne of trains getting stuck one station before mine, I hopped on the first London-bound locomotive and went... London-bound. Due to the game change, I went to look for Garrick Theatre, knowing that The Ex-Flatmate and I had stumbled on it less than ten days previous, and wanting to have it in mind. I failed to find the theatre, ended up walking to Covent Garden from Leicester Square, and taking a tube back to King's Cross/St Pancras to meet The Ex-Flatmate.

Together we found the theatre (it was right. fucking. there.) then...walked to Covent Garden from Leicester Square so that she could get paella from the Plaza. It was a beautiful day, so warm and sunny. Then we went back to Garrick Theatre to see Pygmalion, in which everyone was fabulous. The sets were amazing, and Rupert Everett's voice made me melt into the seat. Kara Tointon was pretty god as Eliza, and DIANA RIGG WAS MRS HIGGINS. Gosh. THE BEST. THE BESTEST. THE MOST BEST.

Afterwards we went to my new 'local' hangout, The Essex Serpent, drank, watched the footie like real English people, and then missed our respective trains home. NICE. Whilst in the pub, I wrote a couple of postcards (as you do), and we decided that matinees are the best, because the pubs are still open afterwards. And I don't even drink all that much. True story.

Work has been SO WEIRD this week. We are short-term employing new people? So possibly we will still have jobs? Everyone is cranky about everything? Yeah.

Fuck you, printer. There's a perfectly usable MFD one floor below. Don't think I won't sell out.

edit: If someone is willing to beta 3k worth of fic, please drop me a comment or an email. Due by 1700GMT latest tomorrow. I just need a once-over for sense.

My ex-housie, N, is fucking amazing. She sent me this.

Somebody get me a Brontësaurus with Feminist Vision. I NEED IT.

Last of the top fives. wishes_of_stone asked me for my five favourite songs and zeitheist wanted to know five moments of fiction (from any media) that moved me. Guys, did I miss anyone? Let me know.

( my top five songs )

( five moments in fiction that moved me. )

Current Music: Bryan Adams - Can't Stop This Thing We Started | Powered by Last.fm

mollycares asked me my five favourite cities; my five favourite collections of words; my five least favourite animals; five things I've always wanted to say; my five favourite colours. I skipped the penultimate one because I pretty much just say the things I want to say unless I suspect I am being especially churlish and am likely to change my mind. I think before I speak, nine times out of ten, and I don't know that there are positive things I want to say that I haven't said.

( my five favourite cities )

( my five favourite collections of words )

( my five least favourite animals )

( my five favourite colours )

Current Music: Mumford & Sons - Timshel | Powered by Last.fm

Last day of work this week, whoop whoop! Due to Whitsun Monday, and then training on Tuesday, I only have to work two days this week (I have Friday off, huzz). This is good because despite my best efforts, the cold I have been fighting has taken root in my sinuses, and also my quest to find wearable footwear has wrecked my feet and my back. I am so old! etc.

I have so many books and not one whit of inclination to read them. I've been carrying Saffron Froer's Everything is Illuminated around for a month now and, nope, still haven't opened it. I also have American Gods now, which I bought in May some time, but fuck if I can be bothered. I think it's because the last lot of books I read have either not be particularly good reads, or have not ended in a satisfying way. Baba Yaga Laid An Egg started off promisingly but didn't deliver; The Stone Gods lacked Winterson's usual deft touch; The Lollipop Shoes was trite next to Chocolat. I am disinclined to read, guys! Something is wrong with me.

Other things I am disinclined to do: watch the rest of NCIS: LA; watch the last two episodes of Criminal Minds. Tomorrow through Sunday I want to re-watch Wire in the Blood, so I think I'll stick to that as a plan.

I watched 9 the other day - the animation, not the musical - and I enjoyed it quite a bit. I think the resolution didn't make a whole hunk of sense, but the atmosphere was great. Now I want to write it. I know. An animation. Jeez.

Articulacy of fingers, the language of the deaf and dumb, signing on the body body longing. Who taught you to write in blood on my back? Who taught you to use your hands as branding irons? You have scored me with your mark. The pads of your fingers have become printing blocks, you tap a message on to my skin, tap meaning into my body. Your morse code interferes with my heart beat. I had a steady heart before I met you, I relied upon it, it had seen active service and grown strong. Now you alter its pace with your own rhythm, you play upon me, drumming me taut.

- from Written on the Body by Jeanette Winterson

Came home to these; was promptly ecstatic. Am still waiting on the Paul Guest.

This post is a pictorial collection of things from my desk in which my tax return forms weren't hiding.

( +not dial-up friendly )

The above most gorgeous of icons is by zeitheist. Things I need to do: stop staring at it. So pretty!

Up next: a real post? Oh em gee, guys.

Current Mood: okay
Current Music: Kristin Chenowith & Matthew Morrison: Alone.

So, things that I was going to talk about in yesterday's aborted post but didn't:

I finished Baricco's Silk at lunchtime and basically guaranteed that the rest of the day was a wash. It's such a beautiful book - more like a series of haiku than a novel. The original Italian must be beautiful, too, but hey, I'm not literate in that language. (True story: had to remind myself of that today. Which -- who has to do that? Other than me. Obviously.) By the way, if ever there was a less appropriate place to read that book it's the office environment. The chapter of intense but casually-written erotica made me blush. AND I DON'T BLUSH. So, yeah. That was unexpected. But devastating, my gosh.

Haha, I watched Torchwood. I'm not laughing because I find this shit hilarious in general because, well, I can have heart when called upon but STILL. Guys. THE END WAS RIDICULOUS. And fuck it, I laughed. ( super super vague not-spoilery spoilers )

I can't help it. Show: you are much improved and much the same level of dumb. I miss you, Tosh.

The great thing about not knowing when Mitchell & Webb actually airs is that I can choose to watch on a Friday evening or a Sunday morning. This week I'll be watching that, Mock the Week, and listening to Shappi Khorsandi's show on Radio4 which I only caught the beginning of when coming home last night. It's weird - I'd never heard of her before her stint on McIntyre's Roadshow, and now she seems to be everywhere. Of which I approve, natch.

Anyway, my not-point is that comedy is great, and British panel games are GREATER. Yeah. I said it.

Hmmmm. I should go. Keep you fingers crossed I don't staple myself today. Oh, did I not mention? Did that TWICE yesterday. TWICE. WHAT.

Current Music: Florence and The Machine - Cosmic Love | Powered by Last.fm

Driving lesson wasn't a complete bomb. I spent the rest of the day watching the Aragorn &/or Ent parts of The Two Towers and then a beautiful, beautiful film called Sukkar Banat (Caramel). The stories, the direction, the music: all delicious, all delightful. I'm tempted to watch it again before I go to sleep, especially since my insomnia is kicking up again.

Meme: Reply to this meme by yelling "words!" and I will give you five words that remind me of you. Then post them in your LJ and explain what they mean to you. Got mine from fallapartagain.

( poetry; books; semi-colons; music; Mac&Stella. )

Ooh, full moon? It's a little red/orange tonight. Gorgeous. You'd never be able to tell we had torrential rain in the middle of the day.

Current Music: Sheryl Crow - Everyday Is a Winding Road | Powered by Last.fm

( the other title for this post was 'why I am not a buddhist'. Because. Yes. )

Current Music: Rob Thomas - Mockingbird | Powered by Last.fm

Snagged from failte_aoife because it's been a while since I meme'd it up.

1/ Which author do you own the most books by?
Kazuo Ishiguro because I recently went on a buying spree in an attempt to get hold of a lot of his work. My taste in books - and the decisions that lead to my buying any - lends towards authors who aren't well-known, or haven't produced a large body of work. So in theory I would probably own more of Donna Tartt and Jeffrey Eugenides' works except for the part where they haven't been written yet. I think I tend to own 1-2 books by authors that I like.

Actually, scratch my initial answer - I probably own more Shakespeare than anything else. a) because I have The Complete Works, and b) because I also own the sonnets and individual copies of a fair few of his plays. So. Yes.

( continued. )

Current Music: Running, please wait...

Why do I continue to leave updating till 10 minutes before I have to go to sleep? Because I continue to be an idiot.

So, Soton! That was weird. And great, too, but also just weird and I loved it whilst feeling a little out of sorts. It doesn't help that I am now apparently allergic to that house (dust content = insane) and other things were going on. But it was an excellent extended weekend. I did a lot of walking/enjoying the sunshine, and met a bioterrorist in a bar, so, you know.

Mostly I spent time with good friends and talked my backside off, so it's all good.

Back to work tomorrow. Oh gosh.

I started writing a Ziva post (re: finale) but it didn't get very far. That said, I haven't rewatched the episode again yet so I should probably get on that. In other news, I found the Criminal Minds finale a bit sensationalist, and thought the ending was ridiculous.

I bought a ridiculous number of books, guys. Mostly Kazuo Ishiguro novels but I also finally picked up a copy of Evan Wright's Generation Kill. The way I'm going with that, I'll probably be through it by tomorrow or Thursday night.

I also tried to buy Mary Oliver's Wild Geese but N bought the last copy. Will have to look for it in C tomorrow. I have some to post from that collection; I think I'll post the title poem now.

I posted in-house postcards today but I'm still sorting out the others because I continue to be lame. Relatedly: gosh, packing shit can be tiresome, however much I love sending things out. Also relatedly: my love to you all.

Current Mood: okay
Current Music: Belle and Sebastian - Get Me Away from Here, I'm Dying | Powered by Last.fm

To summarise, today I:
/fought with my laptop again¹
/read 3/4 of Donna Tartt's The Secret History²

1) I nearly lost this battle once and for all but then the laptop found whatever the hell it was looking for. You know, oops, turns out I've been wearing my glasses all day! Sorry to have wasted your time by making you help me to look for them! In this scenario the glasses represent the System32 folder or something. I DON'T CARE ANY MORE. I don't dare try to update the laptop with anything for fear that it will freeze, blue screen and then never wake up again. I'm going to install Avast again because I need the virus/malware protection but after that, fuck no. I don't care.

As an addendum to the above: am still considering the switch to Linux. The only thing stopping me is that the problems are hardware, not software, related, and so I don't think changing OS is going to help me in the long run. The two pluses I see with Linux are that it uses much less memory, and its less likely to incur viral wrath. Opinions?

2) This book is amazing and I love it. I've had it on my to read list for quite some time (although, heh, my preconceived notions of the plot - as taken from the aether via osmosis - were wildly incorrect) and I wish I'd gotten to it sooner. That said, it is fairly melancholic (to my literary ear, which bends that way anyway) and has me in the grip of a low, low mood. FANTASTIC.

Managed to get my picfor1000 entry in before March 1st graced other shores. Was going to write CSI: NY; ended up writing NCIS (like always). Was going to write Ziva post-Corporal Punishment; ended up writing Ziva post-Dead Man Walking (but of course). For those that care: you are not your body; i am not your soul. Why yes, I did decide to continue my trend of using obnoxiously long titles. Marvellous, n'est-ce pas?

I have to go to the centre tomorrow, and I'll be there until 3pm at the latest (reception duty this week). It's been a week since I went to see my GP and whilst my skin is now sporting large, dark patches (scars, basically) it is no longer dry or broken or infected. I am completely unable to express my relief. I can deal with the pigmentation issues because my vanity over such things has long since dissipated. I'm just glad that it doesn't hurt any more.

Current Mood: tired
Current Music: Laura Marling: Alas I Cannot Swim. (in my head)

( the centre. )

Aaand my lips are totally doing that annoying falling-off-my-face thing again. Whaaat. If it's not one thing then it's another.

I am now thinking about buying more memory for my laptop because this is waaaaay more cheaper than buying a new one or, my other idea, a smartphone of some variety. This is a Great solution if the damaged memory is the one that I can access. If it's the internal one a new memory card probably isn't going to help me at all. Colour me frustrated, y'all.

I spent time today writing emails to various people and reading poetry. I also finally started Donna Tartt's The Secret History which I'm enjoying so far. Shameful: I haven't read a novel in quite some. I started Saffron Froer's Everything is Illuminated but I had to stop with that because I was nervous about how that would work out. Um. Yeah, idek. I figure I'll finish this book, read The Little Friend and then go back to Everything is Illuminated. And then cry for a month. You know. As I do.

I could have watched Big Love this evening but I totally forgot. On the plus side I found a way to download a trial version of PowerDVD 7 from the Cyberlink website. I still have the product key from my purchase a couple years back so I should be able to upgrade easily enough. That is, of course, if the laptop can take it.

Also: this means I have something to look forward to when I get back from the centre tomorrow. Huzzarms go... here.

Current Mood: tired
Current Music: Florence and The Machine - Kiss With a Fist | Powered by Last.fm

/The Ecstasy of Bursting Forth (Mad Men).

Later, when Don asks her to deliver a report to Mr. Cooper's office, she tiptoes in, having slipped off her shoes before she walked into his office. She stares at the Roethke, cocks her head this way and that, tries to see what they're all talking about. The gradations are intriguing she supposes. She steps forward, again bending her head. But still she sees nothing. It should just be gray, she thinks, a mass of shades of gray.

A gen fic about Joan, post-S2 finale; written for me and basically hitting all my kinks. Where canon!Joan's strength (paradoxically) lies in her passivity towards Greg, this Joan does the thing we want her to do: she starts to take control of her life. The fic has this great mirroring effect, following her through two mornings and listing the differences. On top of that, there are quiet character notes on Peggy and Salvatore (oh gosh, the latter is heartbreaking) and the atmosphere feels very true to the show. I'm totally in love with it.

( the rest, by fandom (alphabetically) )

Includes: Angels in America; Friday Night Lights; Homicide: Life on the Streets; Life; Mad Men; The Middleman; movies (Aliens; Brick; Chocolat; Empire Records; Hancock; Little Miss Sunshine; Speed); Mythology; Old Testament; One Thousand and One Nights (Arabian Nights); Pushing Daisies; Sarah Connor Chronicles; Slings & Arrows; Spooks; The Time Traveler's Wife; Wire in the Blood

The rest of my Yuletide bookmarks are, natch, at my delicious account.

Current Mood: calm
Current Music: Dar Williams - The Ocean | Powered by Last.fm

So. I thought I was late. I thought I was late because of a number of reasons, none of which change the fact that it's only 8am, and thus am ridonk early. I could go in now, true, but I might lose the will to live. See: that's always a possibility.

Thus I have another 45 mins to spend at home, and I'm up in time to see the low dawn, so everything outside is misty, sharp, and aglow. Which is also to say, pretty or not, it's damn cold out.

I am waiting for Mad Men which has yet to turn up. This is Very Distressing, naturally.

I finished Joshua Spassky at long last, and it turned out to be a love story which was not entirely what I was expecting. Better than when I picked it up, the ending was matter-of-fact and entirely correct for what the novel(la) was. And now I'm reading fairy tales, all of which are matter-of-fact and not all of which seem to have a purpose. It's Russian fairy tales that I'm looking for now. Oh, Propp; verily I yearn for school still.

The decisions I must make every day: to cling to my brolly, or to be unencumbered by all things!

Except that's a first-class ticket to a head cold in this country, and damn, I just remembered that I have train tickets to book and buy.

Current Mood: awake
Current Music: Frou Frou - Let Go | Scrobbled by Last.fm

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planning the revolution

(crying about it)

Entries tagged with what is this literacy you speak of?

{ this subject was going to be a lyric but HOLY SHIT THERE ARE BATS OUTSIDE. }

{ I read a poem that was so good but I can't find it and now I'm worried that it was a dream. }

{ femgen posting opens on Monday, and I've yet to write even a word. }

{ "Teeth at the skin. Anticipation. / Then flesh." }

{ Superpowered English authors from the 19th Century! }

{ and if I had the choice, yeah, I'd always wanna be there. }

{ let the one who brings the candle also bring the wax. }

{ late! }

{ no free time; all time is money. }

{ fuck me, I love half days. }

{ and now it chills me to the bone. }

{ it makes such an almighty sound. }

{ I hitched a ride with a vending-machine repair man. }

{ you & me tried everything, still that mockingbird won't sing. }

{ one tries to fly away. }

{ the machinery of my hands / the ruin of my face. }

{ I would rather be dry than held up by a golden gun. }

{ there's a house across the river but alas I cannot swim. }

{ Yuletide Recs. }

{ things, things, and more things. }

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