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Totally anticlimactic
Sep. 17th, 2003 03:01 pmNow I have three birthmarks less than I had this morning. (Would this be an acceptable method of losing weight?) The problem is: it doesn't hurt. Not that I want it to, but I feel a bit silly not going to work when it doesn't hurt AT ALL. Not at all. I mean, I can sit on those... well, I suppose I have to call them wounds, as they're rather deep cuts closed by three stitches each, and the little buggers don't hurt. So I'll have to go to work tomorrow. Drat. And I was so looking forward to my days off, with just the right amount of slight pain to make me feel justified in staying home. I should have known. Schoolgirl dreams simply don't come true. Oh, well. But I'm going to be extra lazy tomorrow and Friday, and make extra long lunch breaks. Ha. Serves them right, whoever 'they' are (a combination of fate and the government, probably).
My early morning was embellished by a wonderfully long Objects of desire update. Another brilliant story, which vies for preference with 'Outside the Fire', the link of which I'm unable to insert because ff.net seems to be acting strange again.
Now I'm going to return to Orpheus and finish ch.6. Go me!
Finished 'Mrs. Dalloway' today and owe eternal gratitude to Virginia Woolf for having made me realize that, when you write stream of consciousness, it's highly important to have a strict time frame, otherwise the story will spread uncontrollably like olive oil on a tiled kitchen floor (very prosaic, I know, but those who did drop a bottle of olive oil on a tiled kitchen floor will agree that it's as accurate as it's prosaic). I'm sure what I'm going to say now is incredibly trite and has been said many times already, but Woolf's narartive technique reminds me a lot of Robert Altman's films, especially 'Short Cuts' and 'Prêt à Porter'. The only detail I didn't like too much was at the end, where Sir William Bradshaw comes to Clarissa's party and tells Mr. Dalloway about the young man who killed himself (i.e. Septimus Smith), and Clarissa's imagination of what might have happened comes a little too close to what actually did happen. Otherwise, the book is among the top ten on my personal Best-ever-Books list.
My early morning was embellished by a wonderfully long Objects of desire update. Another brilliant story, which vies for preference with 'Outside the Fire', the link of which I'm unable to insert because ff.net seems to be acting strange again.
Now I'm going to return to Orpheus and finish ch.6. Go me!
Finished 'Mrs. Dalloway' today and owe eternal gratitude to Virginia Woolf for having made me realize that, when you write stream of consciousness, it's highly important to have a strict time frame, otherwise the story will spread uncontrollably like olive oil on a tiled kitchen floor (very prosaic, I know, but those who did drop a bottle of olive oil on a tiled kitchen floor will agree that it's as accurate as it's prosaic). I'm sure what I'm going to say now is incredibly trite and has been said many times already, but Woolf's narartive technique reminds me a lot of Robert Altman's films, especially 'Short Cuts' and 'Prêt à Porter'. The only detail I didn't like too much was at the end, where Sir William Bradshaw comes to Clarissa's party and tells Mr. Dalloway about the young man who killed himself (i.e. Septimus Smith), and Clarissa's imagination of what might have happened comes a little too close to what actually did happen. Otherwise, the book is among the top ten on my personal Best-ever-Books list.
