From my desktop stack of books...
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.
5. Don't search around and look for the coolest book you can find. Do what's actually next to you.
"J'ai vu plusieurs de ces freres, qui dans leur joie excessive laissaient couler des larmes bien douces."
Minus one accent mark, b/c LJ doesn't seem to do them the same way Word does.
From a French translation of a medieval collection of moral tales. It sounds pretty in French, but is really a rather tiresome exhortation to go to confession.
Today was warmer than it was supposed to be, so I went to the Green Market and bought some day-old bread for a dollar a loaf. Sourdough that's sour but not really in an authentic way and sunflower/flaxseed, which is quite nice, but very dense. Should be good toasted with apple butter, though.
Had a lovely drunken night out with b/f and two other friends. Hit up the Lower East Side to see a band and hang out. Played some air hockey, too, which was fun at the time, but has left me with an enormous bruise on my elbow and some smaller matching ones on my knee and thumb. Staggered back home with b/f, and am happy to report that we stayed up to a respectably late hour and then slept in pretty late this morning. All in all, exactly what I needed after a rather stressful week.
I'm tired. But I'm hoping to get some work done tonight. And clean. And when is the freakin' laundry going to get done? I could almost fit in schoolwork if I didn't have to clean the wretched apartment so damn much!
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.
5. Don't search around and look for the coolest book you can find. Do what's actually next to you.
"J'ai vu plusieurs de ces freres, qui dans leur joie excessive laissaient couler des larmes bien douces."
Minus one accent mark, b/c LJ doesn't seem to do them the same way Word does.
From a French translation of a medieval collection of moral tales. It sounds pretty in French, but is really a rather tiresome exhortation to go to confession.
Today was warmer than it was supposed to be, so I went to the Green Market and bought some day-old bread for a dollar a loaf. Sourdough that's sour but not really in an authentic way and sunflower/flaxseed, which is quite nice, but very dense. Should be good toasted with apple butter, though.
Had a lovely drunken night out with b/f and two other friends. Hit up the Lower East Side to see a band and hang out. Played some air hockey, too, which was fun at the time, but has left me with an enormous bruise on my elbow and some smaller matching ones on my knee and thumb. Staggered back home with b/f, and am happy to report that we stayed up to a respectably late hour and then slept in pretty late this morning. All in all, exactly what I needed after a rather stressful week.
I'm tired. But I'm hoping to get some work done tonight. And clean. And when is the freakin' laundry going to get done? I could almost fit in schoolwork if I didn't have to clean the wretched apartment so damn much!