day one hundred thirty-one.

genre fiction: a sampling

Charlie All Night
by Jennifer Crusie
c1996

is there a more accurate statement in the whole of literature?

eloquence

and looking like furniture is a turn-on

The High Window
by Raymond Chandler
c1942

murder! intrigue!

hot

i'm not sure exactly what "faces like stale beer" look like, but i'd bet they are accompanied by what we call "sorority voice"

and i take what i said about accurate statements back:

day one hundred two.

i woke up at 8:00 today to wait for fedex and decided not to go back to sleep.
i spent 2 hours reading my urban lit book for class:

it is not my favorite thing. i should have gone with something less romancey. i wonder if the author or other modern romance writers ever read the dialogue to themselves aloud and think that this is the way people really converse. or have sex. or if they expect their readers to. i get that it's supposed to be a fantasy of what love and romance is, but it ends up just making me laugh and/or sneeze, because sometimes i sneeze when i am bored.

then i spent about 2 hours cleaning, shelving my books, and putting my shoes in rows by the door (except for my snow boots, which i finally banished to the closet so that i don't have to think about how it will snow again eventually maybe).

i'm seeing the antlers tonight:



a nap may be in order.

day thirty-nine.

remember this?

day thirty-eight.

happy galentines day!