1) As a general rule, I have a lot of faith in the stability of the country I live in and the ability of the government both local and national to handle crises. Yet I am never surprised by that small, but insistent stab of panic whenever something like today's relatively minor earthquake happens. Maybe I've seen too many post apocalyptic films or read too many novels that take place in the aftermath of the collapse of a society's infastructure. Or maybe I'm just a naturally neurotic person in whom the neuroses lies dormant until kickstarted by things like the Pentagon closing or the gadgets that have become a surrogate mortal coil simply not working.
2) I just finished an "erotic" book by Nicholson Baker called the "House of Holes". The following is taken from my review posted last night on Goodreads.com:
reading this book was like being trapped inside a Salvador Dali painting only with a lot more semen everywhere
and honestly that is true. But it also makes it sound more intriguing than I actually found it. I found it equal parts ridiculous and hysterically absurd. I often think that sex is equal parts ridiculous and hysterically absurd so in actuality, I should amend my rating from 2 stars to 5 stars because I may have stumbled upon a great metaphor for sex, you know, without all guilt and shame afterwards. Too bad the metaphor is so long and really, really gross. (Again, apt words for certain sexual experiences.Ok, now I think Baker is just in my head and I need to read the Lives of the Saints or something equally chaste to cleanse my soul.)
3) In other book news, I saw the film adaptation for "One Day". That particular novel was my favorite one of last year and the reason is because I so closely identified with Emma that there were some passages in the novel that literally gave me chills of recognition. I was nervous to see the film version of it because some of that connection is taken away when you put a famous face on it. Never did I picture Emma to have the gigantic doe eyes of Anne Hathaway and this is all on me but the most recent of her films that I've seen was "Love and Other Drugs" so I kept expecting her to take out her boobs. Thankfully the filmakers were more restrained. Aside from that, the film didn't connect with me in remotely the same way as the book but how could it really? It doesn't surprise me that a lot of reviewers don't connect with the film, as the story of Dexter and Emma is best told through all the beautiful internal dialogue of the novel. Not everything is improved with visual representation (please see random thing #2).
4) Last year I bought a CSA share at an organic farm because I was feeling all environmental and local farm supporting and healthy. It worked out well because my friend and I live close to one another and can share the absolutely enormous amounts of vegetables we get every week. We bought it again this year and I have to say, even though the hauls every week are the same and the produce is generally delicious, I'm finding the whole thing just downright annoying. I like to pretend that I have the stamina, time and money to be organic and local and earthy and good with everything but every week when I get my big bag o'veggies, I really just have an urge to throw them at passerby or from the roof of a tall building. In fairness, I usually pick them up from my friend after a really long day at work and I'm cranky and hungry and nothing in the bag can be eaten without proper washing, storage and cooking but still, I choose to blame the vegetables.
5) I really hate it when a quirky question or observation that used to guarantee cutesy conversation between friends or someone you casually flirt with is something that can easily be googled, thereby prematurely ending the conversation and/or causing everyone to whip out their smartphones instead of making eye contact. This is happening to me all the time lately. You would think a shy person like myself would enjoy not having to look at people in the eyes but amazingly enough I miss it. I suppose that's why I'm blogging this instead of calling someone up to tell them. O the irony.