oddments
I keep waking up because my eyes keep trying to glue themselves shut and it itches. Katie, Ceeg, I did not die, so you do not have to avenge me. I know you would have, though. I'm allowed to call a do-over for today and go back to bed for a few, right?
Coined a name for Lexapro-induced inability to eat, yesterday: Lexarexia. It was that or analexia, but the first won on account of being more tonguetwisty. It's got all those tasty X sounds in it.
Bolts won yesterday and of course I missed it. Meh. Was it good? (Would anyone on my flist know if it was good?)
Beowulf and Hamlet do, now that I think about it, have one connection: they're both about (thanks, Katie!) Danes. Shakespeare didn't have anything to do with the former, though, and now the latter makes me think about little cartoon pigs. I freakin' loved that poem when I was in high school. I asked for a translation of it, one year at Christmas, with a specific one in mind. I got a translation, but it was a different one. All I remember about the one I wanted is that there was a chainmail coif on the cover and I think it was hardback. Damn this aging and memory loss. No, I haven't seen the movie yet, but it's on the to-do list. Press on, MacDuff! (But that's something else entirely.)
Simon, I am expecting all manner of insight into and nifty did-you-knows about Beowulf. You're good at this stuff. If it involves archaeological finds, that's even better!
Need to recharge my mental batteries. My muse is fickle and everything I've shot lately sucks. Maybe if I go get us muddy in the estuary she'll like me again.
Coined a name for Lexapro-induced inability to eat, yesterday: Lexarexia. It was that or analexia, but the first won on account of being more tonguetwisty. It's got all those tasty X sounds in it.
Bolts won yesterday and of course I missed it. Meh. Was it good? (Would anyone on my flist know if it was good?)
Beowulf and Hamlet do, now that I think about it, have one connection: they're both about (thanks, Katie!) Danes. Shakespeare didn't have anything to do with the former, though, and now the latter makes me think about little cartoon pigs. I freakin' loved that poem when I was in high school. I asked for a translation of it, one year at Christmas, with a specific one in mind. I got a translation, but it was a different one. All I remember about the one I wanted is that there was a chainmail coif on the cover and I think it was hardback. Damn this aging and memory loss. No, I haven't seen the movie yet, but it's on the to-do list. Press on, MacDuff! (But that's something else entirely.)
Simon, I am expecting all manner of insight into and nifty did-you-knows about Beowulf. You're good at this stuff. If it involves archaeological finds, that's even better!
Need to recharge my mental batteries. My muse is fickle and everything I've shot lately sucks. Maybe if I go get us muddy in the estuary she'll like me again.