Somehow the well-received Mud and From Up on Poppy Hill aren't grabbing me so much. I want to see the 3-D not-animated not-action not-nature. Or maybe hit Iron Man 3 instead. But I probably ought not take an evening for the movies, what with stuff around the chorus concert coming up, and a little hunk of (interesting) freelance (about theory and the clitoris).
I took drugs for the knee, then another drug I'm sorta not supposed to take. It still sucks mightily to walk, but the pain while sitting is practically gone.
It's too bad I don't identify with Gatsby's longing. I really seem like I should. I'm only a few chapters into my re-read of the book, and mostly I'm struck that (a) I underlined weird things as a teenager and (b) the text is disorienting even to my adult, literarily/narratively more centered self. So much that I now understand the disorientation is a style thing. Still, Scott/Nick seems to assume or presume a perspective I am a bit iffy I'm going to be able to conclude it's okay to take for granted we readers can get with.
Hungry. Need trash bags. Want to try something called bromelain. I'd try something called placebo, and labelled that way, if it were chewable, so why the hell not.
