My eyes are flickering in a fight to stay awake. I woke early, about 20 minutes before my alarm clock was due to start trying to prod me out of sleep. I read a bit of Sunday's paper. The Sunday paper isn't like the other days. There's no urgency to get it read, while it's still fresh. The essays and ideas are more digestible across the week, taking it in bit by bit - information overload is not for Sundays. It's only 925 now, and a mere 45 minutes of pretending to earnestly stuff envelopes is taking its toll. Yesterday I was too eager, but a couple of vicious beneath-the-fingernail papercuts put paid to that.
Or maybe my braincells are in shock. How dare I put them to work at 645am after numbing them with the 3 hour finale of 'The Bachelor' last night. In my defence, I thought it was an hour long when I switched on. I didn't intend to invest my entire Monday evening in seeing if Charlie chose Krisily or Sarah. In fairness to me, I made some dinner, handwashed some clothes and cleaned up a bit during it too.
Two hours of America's Next Top Model tomorrow night. At least I can pack during that. And I love that show, whereas I'm just a bit fascinated by the sheer wagonosity of the ladies in The Bachelor.
I got off the train a few stops early last night, to meet Tim and to wander home slowly. All the shops are open til 9 on weeknights here and I spent ages in a second hand bookshop. I love doing that, although they can be like bad car boot sales or treasure troves. I was disappointed to find a John Fante reader, but no John Fante books. And John Updike's Rabbit series no.'s 3 & 4 but not 1 & 2. And about 10 copies of John Irving's "A widow for one Year" but nothing else by him. Let down in the whole John department of the shop I was. I did buy "Atomised" by Michael Houllebecq (sp?), a book you may know by the lady in just her knickers on the front. It'll probably be confiscated from me by US customs on Thursday anyway. Mark tells me Stephen bought this just for the cover and then said it was crap. When I finish it, I'm going to give him a quiz to check if he read it and didn't just look at the cover.
Oh yeah, I also looked for Aldous Huxley's "Brave New World", cos Damian keeps using that phrase lately (well twice maybe) and every time I read it I thought: must read that book, but I could only see "Brave New World Revisited". It's a good place to discover stuff, rather than find something specific.
In case you're wondering (as Catherine did) if the blog had grown legs and started to write itself, it hasn't. I'm emailing my entry to Mark, who's posting on my behalf. Brave new world indeed. Oh shite, I hope he's not editing them. (Mark! No editing!) I'm hoping for Ella-blog updates aswell, as Auntie Emma & Uncle Jamie fly in and meet her for the first time today.
Kylie
Kylie has breast cancer the poor mite. That's a bit of a shocker. I doubt Kylie reads my blog, but there are get-well-kylie buzzes going out from here anyway.
old school
There's a shop in Chicago that sells Converse-made Converse for $20, that is shoes that were made before they were bought out by Nike. Unfortunately the stock is pretty diminished at this stage. Mark's already been in on my behalf, but I'll go in when I'm down there myself and bate me feet into a pair, or wear 3 pairs of socks. Whatever works, for 20 bucks. I've already got a green pair, which presumably are Nike-Cons. In any sweatshoppy type articles I've read lately, Nike has been mentioned/lauded as a company that now does have independent monitors for its manufacturers. Unless they were undercover though, I'd be very dubious that the factories don't just put on a show, like in primary school when the inspectors came round and you'd been allowed do loads of art the previous week, and learnt 6 new God-songs to sing for them. Not that I'd make an analogy between a certain Senior Infants teacher rapping you on the knuckles with a ruler and gross human rights abuses. Oh dear, I've just realised I own 3 pairs of Nikes if you count the Converse.
The Pinky & The Brain connection
The Pinky & The Brain "Brain song" was played on rotation in the Warner Bros store I worked in. I entertained Sylda, Tracy, Rachael & Fiona no end singing it over and over I'm sure.
5 comments:
Giita's mam bought me Houllebecq's Platform. Dicey (almost porn) present to get from your bird's mam. She said the man recommended it. Thought it was pox, meself, so I hope the other one is better.
The Bachelor, Jill? i am saddened.
and i didn't realize i was using that certain phrase at all. maybe Aldous is speaking through me again. I do so enjoy his paranormal visits, but he leaves the place in such disarray...
By the way - Fante: was he the dude Bukowski was always going on about? c'mere Google...
Your man whp wrote Atomised lives in Bere Island, they tried to kick him off when it was published, at least thats what they said in the Sunday Times.....KK says "well", so do I
Well a certain primary school is now on ratemyteachers.ie. And there's a comment about Tessy on it. She's morto even though it's a good (if slightly confusing / illiterate) comment. So now's the time to exact your revenge on the ruler-over-the-knuckles teacher who I don't think is featured yet.
Read Atomised. I retain practically nothing about novels though so I'd fail your test...
Hi Jill,
Aunty Emma pointed me in the direction of your blog and every so now then when I bored of swiss snow I give it a peek to see how you are doing and if canadian snow is any different.
Anyway, I read atomised...not great. But you should read the handmaid's tale written by canada's most famous author Margaret Atwood. Keep an eye out for it.
Take care.
Margo.
PS: Ella is beautiful, I googled young bloggers (as you can see Ive too much time on my hands) and while I found someone else who at 9 weeks claimed to be the worlds youngest blogger this was posted back 2003 (and quite frankly he didnt have a way with words that ella does and there was only one post) so I think Ella safely holds the title.
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