bugs, et cetera.
At the moment, it is 11:30 at night, and it is hot and icky in the house, and my best friend is most likely still on a plane flying halfway across the country to New Brunswick, where she will remain for two weeks avoiding seafood and being possibly internet-less. We might have to resort to phones if we read: I start getting a little withdrawal-y.
I am surprisingly okay with all of this, on account of the fact that I have been reading a fantastic, lovely, charming, horrific, kickass novel for the past few hours. This is significant because,
a) I have not read a novel in quite a few months-- well, okay, I've barely even written in the past few months, my brainmeats have been focused on other things-- and have been reading said novel for almost seven hours straight, which is awesome, and
b) the novel in question is Repo Men, originally published as The Reposession Mambo, by Eric Garcia. It is now a movie. With Jude Law.
As I type this, Best Friend In Question has just logged onto MSN. Crisis averted.
Okay-- this book, yes. This book is increasingly wonderful, and gory and humorous and sad and brilliant all at once, and it involves heartbreakingly close friendships and a man who's had five wives, one of whom was a prostitute and one of whom fathered his gorgeous, frail child and one of whom he killed because his job told him to, and the main character is charming and lighthearted and funny and maybe a little broken, and his artificial heart falls in love with a woman whose everything is artificial but her heart, and I am fully expecting this book to kick me in the crotch at the end and make me cry, but I've braced myself fairly well, I think.
I just killed a bug with a vaccuum cleaner, which is basically the most significant thing that has happened all day, right behind walking twenty minutes to Tim Horton's and very nearly leaving the house in my pyjamas with the TV on and the garage door open.
(I also played Army of Two: The 40th Day for a couple of hours when I woke up. Uh. It is fairly awesome. If I say anything more I might just start rolling on the floor in utter joy over this game.)
Um-- I would make a fairly terrible Buddhist, I think. The sad part of this is that it's almost midnight on a Thursday evening and I am sitting here about ready to jump in the freezer, and I just used a vaccuum cleaner to suck up a bug because I couldn't see the damned thing due to focusing for way too long on small print and very nearly knocked over a lamp.
Also, this is my hundredth journal entry. To many more, et cetera. Flisters: you have officially seen my baby years. Prepare for toddlerdom.
ETA: So now it's almost 2:30 AM and I've happily finished Repo Men. All of you, go read it right now. The copy with the picture of Jude Law on the cover should be really cheap-- even cheaper for you US folks, $8, I think-- and it has a little mini-essay detailing the production of the short story that became the novel that became the movie that was eventually published as a book, in which the author is terribly charming and refers to Jude Law as very, very handsome.
No tears were shed, which is awesome. The ending was beautiful, and I was honestly expecting it to be a lot more overwhelmingly slashy, just because, you know-- well, go out and find this book and read the first line and you'll know why, but I'm very much okay with what it did give me. There was no actual boykissing, but having the main character wake up in the hospital after one of the most grueling nights of his life, safe and warm, to the smell of lilacs and the sight of his best friend straightening up from leaning over him with a soft smile and knowing, just knowing he kissed him while he was asleep is about the most perfect thing I could have asked for.
Going to bed now. Will watch the movie tomorrow. Likely to dream about internal organs.
I am surprisingly okay with all of this, on account of the fact that I have been reading a fantastic, lovely, charming, horrific, kickass novel for the past few hours. This is significant because,
a) I have not read a novel in quite a few months-- well, okay, I've barely even written in the past few months, my brainmeats have been focused on other things-- and have been reading said novel for almost seven hours straight, which is awesome, and
b) the novel in question is Repo Men, originally published as The Reposession Mambo, by Eric Garcia. It is now a movie. With Jude Law.
As I type this, Best Friend In Question has just logged onto MSN. Crisis averted.
Okay-- this book, yes. This book is increasingly wonderful, and gory and humorous and sad and brilliant all at once, and it involves heartbreakingly close friendships and a man who's had five wives, one of whom was a prostitute and one of whom fathered his gorgeous, frail child and one of whom he killed because his job told him to, and the main character is charming and lighthearted and funny and maybe a little broken, and his artificial heart falls in love with a woman whose everything is artificial but her heart, and I am fully expecting this book to kick me in the crotch at the end and make me cry, but I've braced myself fairly well, I think.
I just killed a bug with a vaccuum cleaner, which is basically the most significant thing that has happened all day, right behind walking twenty minutes to Tim Horton's and very nearly leaving the house in my pyjamas with the TV on and the garage door open.
(I also played Army of Two: The 40th Day for a couple of hours when I woke up. Uh. It is fairly awesome. If I say anything more I might just start rolling on the floor in utter joy over this game.)
Um-- I would make a fairly terrible Buddhist, I think. The sad part of this is that it's almost midnight on a Thursday evening and I am sitting here about ready to jump in the freezer, and I just used a vaccuum cleaner to suck up a bug because I couldn't see the damned thing due to focusing for way too long on small print and very nearly knocked over a lamp.
Also, this is my hundredth journal entry. To many more, et cetera. Flisters: you have officially seen my baby years. Prepare for toddlerdom.
ETA: So now it's almost 2:30 AM and I've happily finished Repo Men. All of you, go read it right now. The copy with the picture of Jude Law on the cover should be really cheap-- even cheaper for you US folks, $8, I think-- and it has a little mini-essay detailing the production of the short story that became the novel that became the movie that was eventually published as a book, in which the author is terribly charming and refers to Jude Law as very, very handsome.
No tears were shed, which is awesome. The ending was beautiful, and I was honestly expecting it to be a lot more overwhelmingly slashy, just because, you know-- well, go out and find this book and read the first line and you'll know why, but I'm very much okay with what it did give me. There was no actual boykissing, but having the main character wake up in the hospital after one of the most grueling nights of his life, safe and warm, to the smell of lilacs and the sight of his best friend straightening up from leaning over him with a soft smile and knowing, just knowing he kissed him while he was asleep is about the most perfect thing I could have asked for.
Going to bed now. Will watch the movie tomorrow. Likely to dream about internal organs.