Hm. Not pi.
I just realized it's been quite nearly a full year since I've posted. I started this blog mostly out of self-pity and a need to feel important and both those feelings are gone now.
I look back and I try to think about how I've changed over the past year. I think it might be a lot. Of change, I mean.
I'm more optimistic now, I think, and definitely more self-aware and political.
I want more. Out of life.
But anyway. I've been reading the my little novel list and am absolutely stuck on the book At Swim-Two-Birds by Flann O'Brien. I really can't get past page 177. I've tried. So instead I'm reading such gems as Pleasure Palace, one of those smutty Tudor-era novels about this or that woman having affairs in big dresses and being constrained by gender roles and eventually finding some nice guy to have a long term love affair with. The disease-ridden part of the Tudor reign is conveniently forgotten. I also read Angels and Demons and several mystery books lent to me by my grandmother. I had to stay up late to finish Angels and Demons because I couldn't not finish. Not that it was good, it was predictable and very very Dan Brown-ish but at the same time it was thrilling and the pages seemed to turn themselves which is something I love and something that Flann O'Brien is not doing for me at the moment. Also it sent me on a conspiracy-theory search for forever yesterday. I loooove a good conspiracy theory, especially if it contains rich white men, famous historical figures, artists, God, the Catholic Church. And yes, the Kennedy assassination counts.
Much more productive.
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