This Fish Needs A Bicycle

few and far

A hard-earned quiet night at home and am disappointed to find that there is not a single un-read book on the shelf. Well, except for the last 400 pages of The Brothers Karamazov, but simply refuse to finish that one. And why?

Here's a plot summary of the first few hundred pages:

Bad, terrible things happen
{insert tangent wherein MORE bad and terrible things happen}
Return to original plot where bad and terrible things are already in progress
{another really, really hard-to-follow tangent}
Bad, terrible things

And there you have it. Am certain that Dostoyesvsky suffered from not only v. serious depression, but Attention Deficit Disorder as well.

Perhaps will simply go smother peacefully-sleeping kitten with kisses. She acts annoyed, but deep down, am certain she loves it.

So many good stories from the West Coast trip and so little attention span to tell them! There was this one time, that yours truly got to play with elephants (there are photos). And this other time where a normally peaceful gal embraced her inner-bouncer and took down some hoodlum at a concert. And this other time when she had to get up at THREE AM to catch a return flight only to sit next to the worlds most annoying plane talker. But mostly there were plenty of times where she simply enjoyed the company of two v. v. great little sisters in a rickety Honda Accord barreling down Highway 80 at ungodly speeds and wishing every day were as sublimely perfect as the ones spent in just that way.

Too few and too far between.

Posted by This Fish at September 29, 2003 09:56 PM