We seem to have skipped Spring, as per the usual for Boston weather. Cold, cold, rain, cold--muggy and unbearable! Really, there ought to at least be two or three weeks where I can leave the windows open in the morning and come home to a pleasantly cool room. No such luck.
New-home stuff moves along. I need more boxes.
No, Turbo, I'm not still holding my breath ... but I'm not jumping for joy yet either. Because I'm afraid of jinxing myself.
Finished reading Part II of Anna Karenina. Anna and Alexei's marriage is going down the drain, so that Anna can pursue her relationship with the other Alexei--Vronsky. Kitty isn't depressed about Vronsky anymore, but latching on to a kind of Born-Again-ness inspired by her trip to Germany. Aaaannnnd ... Levin is being a surly farmer.
I know it's epic and fabulous, and I really was drawn in by Tolstoy's description of Vronsky's doomed race horse. But ... well, I'm bored. The only reason I even bothered to tear through Part II was because I knew I'd be reading Funke and Pratchett when I was done. And now I'm reading Inkspell.
Speaking of Pratchett ... I have [ashamedly] been reading Teatime fan-fic. I blame Marc Warren and that neurotic part of me that falls for creepy men who probably smell nice.
Netflix delivered Tron and Turtles Can Fly. Tron was broken, so I've notified Netflix, and am mailing that back today. I still haven't sat down to watch Turtles Can Fly. It's not a movie you can watch while doing something else, because it's a Middle Eastern film with subtitles; and, yes, I could half-heartedly read every other subtitle while doing something else, but that kind of inattention will probably only lead to confusion and much rewinding.
Watched most of Season One of The Sopranos over the weekend on surfthechannel.com. Except that the second part of the season finale wouldn't load, so I'm left hanging. Maybe I can get it to work for me today. Tony's mannerism remind me much of my grandfather (who actually looked more like Paulie, but ...), except that Tony is actually more socially evolved than my grandfather ever was. Fear and distrust of psychiatry is spot-on, except that Tony moves beyond that and has a psychiatrist. My grandfather never got beyond that distrust--which was unfortunate for his kids, because more than a few of them have serious unresolved issues. Also, Junior looks a lot like my Great Uncle Pat.
It's fun to compare pronunciation of Mid-Atlantic Italian with actual Italian. Everything is a little mutated.
02 June 2008
Happy June!
We seem to have skipped Spring, as per the usual for Boston weather. Cold, cold, rain, cold--muggy and unbearable! Really, there ought to at least be two or three weeks where I can leave the windows open in the morning and come home to a pleasantly cool room. No such luck.
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