Don’t worry, I’m not abandoning this one. I’ve been thinking too much about art these days, so I’ve decided that rather than hijacking She Thinks Too Much with posts about it, I’d create a new blog devoted to the discussion of art, both viewing and creating.
You can read it here: Sheer Art Attack.
It’s very much a work-in-progress, I only created it this morning.
Wondermark by David Malki!
If I’m not careful, this will happen. And yes, that is actually the title of the strip.
So Summer is gone, drifting away like a seed downstream. I’ve moved back to my beloved city, ready to grapple with this semester’s courses, continuing my own research, and hopefully writing a good portion of The Novel, along with countless other projects.
Last night, rather than get to sleep at a reasonable hour, I did a quick search of what RAF books my school has; I lucked into a memoir by Peter Townsend (with an “R” and without an “H”), a British ace of the era. Though I haven’t started reading it yet, I’m certain the first person account will help me get a sense of everything; and who knows, maybe my characters will fly Hurricanes instead.
I’m eagerly anticipating the challenges before me.
needs to find The Invisible Man
finished her book, has nothing to read and supposes that she could reread Master and Commander for the 12th time.
thinks she saw Neil Gaiman walking around outside of the MFA.
wonders where Kevin the Turkey has wandered off to.
is a doctor, not an astrophysicist
is thoroughly entertained by the fact that there is a Bow Street Runners computer game.
loved Star Trek and wants to see it again
feels like Phoebe on that episode of “Friends” when she gets a cold and as a result has a sexy singing voice…except no sexy singing voice here.
GAH. Why is LOST so awesome? And why do I have to wait for next season?
is on a boat.
wonders who would win: James Bond, Jason Bourne or Jack Bauer?
thinks there should be more fairy stories about the police.
lives in a yellow submarine, a yellow submarine, a yellow submarine.
hurt her wrist blogging. It’s inevitable.
wonders if it is a good idea to reference Monty Python in her philosophy paper.
wishes that getting enlisted by Jack Bauer to save America from impending doom was a legitimate reason not to do homework.
A collection of some of my favorite statuses.
Yesterday while napping, I dreamed. Not an unusual occurance by any stretch of the imagination. This dream was different.
In my dream, I was trying to make a decision about my future. I had three options–move abroad, get my doctorate or get a job after graduation. I was speaking to someone about it, and she said, “Ah! I know exactly what you should do!”
Then my alarm went off.
Smells rarely get used in descriptions, or, at least, I’ve never truly noticed any good ones. The smells are usually blandly described, like “acidic” or “acrid” or “nice.”
So, today’s prompt is simple. Describe the smell of the room around you (or one you’ve recently visited). I’ll go first.
As I opened the bathroom door, I was hit with the brutal reek of mint mouthwash. The smell soured my nostrils, but I counted my blessings. It could have been worse–it could have been the heavy, sickly sweet mint masking half-dry vomit.
Ned Wolfe 