Well, thinking about it, it's been a pretty busy week. I never notice these things while they're happening. Probably because I'm too busy watching Farscape and thinking that all I do is waste time watching tv shows on videotape and scouring the interweb for, well, whatever I'm thinking about at the moment. I'm a very efficient time waster. This is why I think I should carry on in the academic world I currently find myself in. And it really is another world. Or, if you'd rather go 80s, prime time and blacker, a different world. Ooh, that joke goes straight out to Ken, as I believe it's in his stylee.
Anyway, I'm still Reading Freud. It's good. I had a meeting the other night with my group (b/c we have group presentations to do - usually I'm not happy about such situations, but in this case, the presentation takes the place of an essay. One cannot complain.) The meeting was fairly productive and also involved 2 bottles of wine. No, not each. But still, good. I'd argue that we needed the mental lubrication. And Freud would no doubt have something to say about that too. He liked his cocaine, I hear.
Instead of more reading, I watched "The Hurricane" on CBC tv. It went on forever due to commercials and a 20 minute break for bluddy news. But it was good and worth it. The kind of story that gets inside my cold, hard heart, making me emotionally vulnerable to long-distance phone commercials and Toronto tourism board promotions (the Globe and Mail had a great article about the ridiculousness of the SARS scare, with statistics on all the other, more probable ways one could die. Ah, statistics, I love you.). I was watching tv b/c I have run out of Farscape episodes - and in the worst way possible! The episode I was watching cut off right before the final 15 minutes! Aaagh! And the person responsible is in Halifax this weekend. I am without my fix. But I am somehow calm. Eerily calm.
Today I went to the market to buy olive oil and capers in a store run by the greatest pair of gay (French) brothers/partners/really close friends ever. I love this store - it is full of all kinds of things you may or may not need. For example, do I need cilantro cutney? Ah, you see, I don't really, but why would I deny myself cilantro cutney? It's cilantro in a jar! I am buying it next time. And some tapenade of some kind too for that matter. You see what kind of store it is? 50 kinds of olive oil, 80 kinds of vinegar... Lots of old(er) people from the rich Anglo part of town speaking loudly in English. One of them was from the same Vancouver Island town my grandma lives in. So we had a weird conversation that went something like "Oh, my grandmother lives there." "Oh really? What's her name?" "Um, Joan. But I can't remember her last name b/c she got remarried." And I am a bad grandkid. She's been remarried for, um, 3+ years... But my brain is packed with *all kinds* of information here. What is remembered and what is not is not always up to me. Just ask Freud.
r r o b y y n
Anyway, I'm still Reading Freud. It's good. I had a meeting the other night with my group (b/c we have group presentations to do - usually I'm not happy about such situations, but in this case, the presentation takes the place of an essay. One cannot complain.) The meeting was fairly productive and also involved 2 bottles of wine. No, not each. But still, good. I'd argue that we needed the mental lubrication. And Freud would no doubt have something to say about that too. He liked his cocaine, I hear.
Instead of more reading, I watched "The Hurricane" on CBC tv. It went on forever due to commercials and a 20 minute break for bluddy news. But it was good and worth it. The kind of story that gets inside my cold, hard heart, making me emotionally vulnerable to long-distance phone commercials and Toronto tourism board promotions (the Globe and Mail had a great article about the ridiculousness of the SARS scare, with statistics on all the other, more probable ways one could die. Ah, statistics, I love you.). I was watching tv b/c I have run out of Farscape episodes - and in the worst way possible! The episode I was watching cut off right before the final 15 minutes! Aaagh! And the person responsible is in Halifax this weekend. I am without my fix. But I am somehow calm. Eerily calm.
Today I went to the market to buy olive oil and capers in a store run by the greatest pair of gay (French) brothers/partners/really close friends ever. I love this store - it is full of all kinds of things you may or may not need. For example, do I need cilantro cutney? Ah, you see, I don't really, but why would I deny myself cilantro cutney? It's cilantro in a jar! I am buying it next time. And some tapenade of some kind too for that matter. You see what kind of store it is? 50 kinds of olive oil, 80 kinds of vinegar... Lots of old(er) people from the rich Anglo part of town speaking loudly in English. One of them was from the same Vancouver Island town my grandma lives in. So we had a weird conversation that went something like "Oh, my grandmother lives there." "Oh really? What's her name?" "Um, Joan. But I can't remember her last name b/c she got remarried." And I am a bad grandkid. She's been remarried for, um, 3+ years... But my brain is packed with *all kinds* of information here. What is remembered and what is not is not always up to me. Just ask Freud.
r r o b y y n
posted by rrrobyn at 12:11 AM
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