Chain Something
Jun. 4th, 2004 07:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jakebe
I have a cold, which is the absolute worst. I'm pretty sure I know who gave it to me: Lauren, a coworker from the Bookshop. She will pay for her insolence, but not now while I am sucking on Halls and tea with honey. :P Speaking of the Bookshop, it's been getting a lot of media attention. A lady for the Ozark Magazine (webzine) and a fellow for Arkansas Weekly came by this past week, taking pictures and asking questions. We were also featured in the Northwest Arkansas Times not too long ago. Since Katy made the documentary, our profile has expanded greatly. It's interesting. :)
"Harry Potter" has been my recent reading project; I've laid waste to Books 1 and 2 and I'm currently devouring Book 3. I love re-reading books, especially when there are things that you've forgotten you were impressed by the first time through. I've always found the bits about the Mandrakes really funny. "As soon as they start trying to move into each other's pots, we'll know they're fully mature." and "The Mandrakes threw a loud and raucous party in Greenhouse 3. This made Professor Sprout very happy." and "The Mandrakes were becoming moody and secretive, a good indication they were fast leaving childhood." are just awesome little bits of whimsy thrown in to establish a good, sharp mental picture. Once you get past the first half of HP1 (it's all very impressive the first time, but you're spoiled after you read the rest of the series), the pace picks up considerably and you can sit there as slack-jawed as you like if you let yourself get caught up.
I'm also picking up a lot of Camus to brush up on existentialism.
"Harry Potter" has been my recent reading project; I've laid waste to Books 1 and 2 and I'm currently devouring Book 3. I love re-reading books, especially when there are things that you've forgotten you were impressed by the first time through. I've always found the bits about the Mandrakes really funny. "As soon as they start trying to move into each other's pots, we'll know they're fully mature." and "The Mandrakes threw a loud and raucous party in Greenhouse 3. This made Professor Sprout very happy." and "The Mandrakes were becoming moody and secretive, a good indication they were fast leaving childhood." are just awesome little bits of whimsy thrown in to establish a good, sharp mental picture. Once you get past the first half of HP1 (it's all very impressive the first time, but you're spoiled after you read the rest of the series), the pace picks up considerably and you can sit there as slack-jawed as you like if you let yourself get caught up.
I'm also picking up a lot of Camus to brush up on existentialism.
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I have a cold, which is the absolute worst. I'm pretty sure I know who gave it to me: Lauren, a coworker from the Bookshop. She will pay for her insolence, but not now while I am sucking on Halls and tea with honey. :P Speaking of the Bookshop, it's been getting a lot of media attention. A lady for the Ozark Magazine (webzine) and a fellow for Arkansas Weekly came by this past week, taking pictures and asking questions. We were also featured in the Northwest Arkansas Times not too long ago. Since Katy made the documentary, our profile has expanded greatly. It's interesting. :)
"Harry Potter" has been my recent reading project; I've laid waste to Books 1 and 2 and I'm currently devouring Book 3. I love re-reading books, especially when there are things that you've forgotten you were impressed by the first time through. I've always found the bits about the Mandrakes really funny. "As soon as they start trying to move into each other's pots, we'll know they're fully mature." and "The Mandrakes threw a loud and raucous party in Greenhouse 3. This made Professor Sprout very happy." and "The Mandrakes were becoming moody and secretive, a good indication they were fast leaving childhood." are just awesome little bits of whimsy thrown in to establish a good, sharp mental picture. Once you get past the first half of HP1 (it's all very impressive the first time, but you're spoiled after you read the rest of the series), the pace picks up considerably and you can sit there as slack-jawed as you like if you let yourself get caught up.
I'm also picking up a lot of Camus to brush up on existentialism. <:) Camus was my favorite of the bunch, mainly because he didn't really gnash his teeth over the idea of life being inherently meaningless. I think the trouble is most people confuse meaning for worth; just because something doesn't really mean anything essentially doesn't mean it's worthless. Cartwheels and singing and accidents can be really beautiful things, regardless of never needing them. If something doesn't have a meaning, GIVE IT ONE. Or revel in meaninglessness, which is much easier said than done.
In a lot of ways, I feel like I've just fallen apart. My fleshiest bits are out in the open and I may have begun to develop an odd metaphorical smell. It's a very comfortable position and I think I might stay here a little while. I'm not *really* in the gutter, but in a lot of ways I feel really low, and that's precisely where I want to be. A formless, floor-based thing. This is where falling in love gets you.
Lazarusrat wrote in his LiveJournal about this flash of what could only be described as cosmic insight he had, and lo and behold it's catching. I was sitting at the Bookshop, and WalMart shareholders had invaded the store, and I thought about what he meant when he wrote it, and the light caught this set of encyclopedias just right and a shareholder said something with just the *right* amount of sneer, and before I knew it I was just...overwhelmed.
Swimming throughout life, everywhere, is this sense of buoyancy. In all the confusion and anger and annoyance and fear and trouble there's *always* this sense of lightness, of joy. That one vein that flows everywhere is a pretty good clue; even if it's impossible to find sometimes it's there, and it's worth finding. It'll lead you where you need to be. It's always surprising to find you almost always take yourself more seriously than you need to.
For the record, I'm a horribly selfish bastard. No, really. REALLY. I can own up to that now. It's OK. :)
Katy and Matt are getting married tomorrow, and I don't have a present or any idea what I'm going to wear. They're moving to New York soon, so I think I might buy them a matching set of pepper spray. >:) Unfortunately, they won't let me wear my tail and ears to the ceremony. Every wedding is better with a kangaroo in it, ain't it?
"Harry Potter" has been my recent reading project; I've laid waste to Books 1 and 2 and I'm currently devouring Book 3. I love re-reading books, especially when there are things that you've forgotten you were impressed by the first time through. I've always found the bits about the Mandrakes really funny. "As soon as they start trying to move into each other's pots, we'll know they're fully mature." and "The Mandrakes threw a loud and raucous party in Greenhouse 3. This made Professor Sprout very happy." and "The Mandrakes were becoming moody and secretive, a good indication they were fast leaving childhood." are just awesome little bits of whimsy thrown in to establish a good, sharp mental picture. Once you get past the first half of HP1 (it's all very impressive the first time, but you're spoiled after you read the rest of the series), the pace picks up considerably and you can sit there as slack-jawed as you like if you let yourself get caught up.
I'm also picking up a lot of Camus to brush up on existentialism. <:) Camus was my favorite of the bunch, mainly because he didn't really gnash his teeth over the idea of life being inherently meaningless. I think the trouble is most people confuse meaning for worth; just because something doesn't really mean anything essentially doesn't mean it's worthless. Cartwheels and singing and accidents can be really beautiful things, regardless of never needing them. If something doesn't have a meaning, GIVE IT ONE. Or revel in meaninglessness, which is much easier said than done.
In a lot of ways, I feel like I've just fallen apart. My fleshiest bits are out in the open and I may have begun to develop an odd metaphorical smell. It's a very comfortable position and I think I might stay here a little while. I'm not *really* in the gutter, but in a lot of ways I feel really low, and that's precisely where I want to be. A formless, floor-based thing. This is where falling in love gets you.
Lazarusrat wrote in his LiveJournal about this flash of what could only be described as cosmic insight he had, and lo and behold it's catching. I was sitting at the Bookshop, and WalMart shareholders had invaded the store, and I thought about what he meant when he wrote it, and the light caught this set of encyclopedias just right and a shareholder said something with just the *right* amount of sneer, and before I knew it I was just...overwhelmed.
Swimming throughout life, everywhere, is this sense of buoyancy. In all the confusion and anger and annoyance and fear and trouble there's *always* this sense of lightness, of joy. That one vein that flows everywhere is a pretty good clue; even if it's impossible to find sometimes it's there, and it's worth finding. It'll lead you where you need to be. It's always surprising to find you almost always take yourself more seriously than you need to.
For the record, I'm a horribly selfish bastard. No, really. REALLY. I can own up to that now. It's OK. :)
Katy and Matt are getting married tomorrow, and I don't have a present or any idea what I'm going to wear. They're moving to New York soon, so I think I might buy them a matching set of pepper spray. >:) Unfortunately, they won't let me wear my tail and ears to the ceremony. Every wedding is better with a kangaroo in it, ain't it?
