scatterings
Dear me, it seems that I forgot to let you lot know that I wasn't sick anymore. My apologies. I woke Saturday morning with no sign I had ever been sick, except for the massive ugly bruise on my thigh from the mysterious swooning spell, and five hours of pay I won't be seeing in my next paycheck. Sigh. And of course my body hasn't seen fit to warn me that while it appears to be absolutely as normal, it isn't actually ready to digest meat. Or sweets. Bah. (No vomiting or anything that unpleasant, just a lot of feeling vastly uncomfortable after meals, and being stubborn and feeling uncomfortable again.)
Oh, I must tell you all what a lovely film Babette's Feast is -- Mum and I watched it yesterday evening. I was expecting to like it a bit, but sometimes older foreign films are harder to get into, I think, so I was also expecting to have to work at it a little. (A lot of my favourite films are older foreign films, it is true -- Wings of Desire, The Seventh Seal, Truly Madly Deeply if British counts as foreign! -- but it's still a very difficult genre.) And then it turned out to be utterly engrossing and charming and delightful! It's narrated, which gives it the air of a fable, and it's got such a gentle -- yet pointed -- and wry, good-hearted humour, and the visuals are lovely and simple, and it's terribly funny and touching. I found myself reminded a bit of L.M. Montgomery -- the story sounded as though it could have been one of her short stories, if she wrote about Denmark rather than Canada -- and a bit of Eva Ibbotson, and a bit of a quieter, less flamboyantly fantastical Amelie, and it's exactly the sort of film I would want to watch when I am sick, or sad, or just need to be quietly cosy. (It's also one of those period films that you don't think of as a period film, because everything seems so... absolutely organic.)
Feeling a bit undermotivated today; it's been a bit of a wasted day. I find I don't actually want to read any of the books I checked out from the library on Saturday, and am re-reading Robert K. Massie's biography of Nicholas and Alexandra Romanov instead. Missed a dose of Zoloft yesterday, which might have something to do with my mood (worry not; have acquired a refill); in general I've been a bit restless today -- restless and listless, which is especially uncomfortable. At least I have things to look forward to -- we are making summer plans, and I am beginning to be very excited about them. And I've acquired a bank account at long last, and must only wait for my debit card to come in the post. I am especially eager for this, as I would very much like to a) renew my paid account, and b) buy a completely working laptop of my very own. I have nearly settled on one, and the more I think about having it, and it being portable and working properly and utterly mine, the more I long to have it this very minute! (Oh, to watch DVDs in privacy! And to have a screen of proper brightness, and which doesn't need to be propped up! And battery power! And iTunes again! And wireless again again!)
Oh, I must tell you all what a lovely film Babette's Feast is -- Mum and I watched it yesterday evening. I was expecting to like it a bit, but sometimes older foreign films are harder to get into, I think, so I was also expecting to have to work at it a little. (A lot of my favourite films are older foreign films, it is true -- Wings of Desire, The Seventh Seal, Truly Madly Deeply if British counts as foreign! -- but it's still a very difficult genre.) And then it turned out to be utterly engrossing and charming and delightful! It's narrated, which gives it the air of a fable, and it's got such a gentle -- yet pointed -- and wry, good-hearted humour, and the visuals are lovely and simple, and it's terribly funny and touching. I found myself reminded a bit of L.M. Montgomery -- the story sounded as though it could have been one of her short stories, if she wrote about Denmark rather than Canada -- and a bit of Eva Ibbotson, and a bit of a quieter, less flamboyantly fantastical Amelie, and it's exactly the sort of film I would want to watch when I am sick, or sad, or just need to be quietly cosy. (It's also one of those period films that you don't think of as a period film, because everything seems so... absolutely organic.)
Feeling a bit undermotivated today; it's been a bit of a wasted day. I find I don't actually want to read any of the books I checked out from the library on Saturday, and am re-reading Robert K. Massie's biography of Nicholas and Alexandra Romanov instead. Missed a dose of Zoloft yesterday, which might have something to do with my mood (worry not; have acquired a refill); in general I've been a bit restless today -- restless and listless, which is especially uncomfortable. At least I have things to look forward to -- we are making summer plans, and I am beginning to be very excited about them. And I've acquired a bank account at long last, and must only wait for my debit card to come in the post. I am especially eager for this, as I would very much like to a) renew my paid account, and b) buy a completely working laptop of my very own. I have nearly settled on one, and the more I think about having it, and it being portable and working properly and utterly mine, the more I long to have it this very minute! (Oh, to watch DVDs in privacy! And to have a screen of proper brightness, and which doesn't need to be propped up! And battery power! And iTunes again! And wireless again again!)