This and that
Feb. 14th, 2007 10:42 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
magidUpcoming filminess of interest: Flatland, Persepolis, Abarat and The Lions of al-Rassan. Of course, they're all movies based on books that I like, so they may frustrate me if they end up being only tangentially related to the book (a la Howl's Moving Castle, which I might've liked more had it been called something else entirely). Hope springs eternal, so I'll likely end up at all of them.
Given that the islands of the Abarat are always one time (7 A.M., midnight, whenever), how can there be history? How do you describe the passage of time when there isn't any. Except that things do happen in some kind of sequence; how is that dealt with?
I walked in to work today. I was a little off my usual pace, but otherwise it was mostly unremarkable. A little sliding in the snow, much avoiding of brown slush thrown up by passing cars. Oh, and lots of overheating, partly due to double socks (I wore the Limmers, and two socks is a good idea with them, even though my feet are apparently larger than they used to be) and double hats (one for warmth, one for its brim, necessary for the spectacled when walking in precipitous weather), and partly due to using slightly different muscles than usual. I didn't want to divest anything, though, since the layer underneath would then get wet. I sweat enough that I'm glad to have a spare T-shirt at work.
One annoyance: the T has blocked off the route I usually take under the Red line at MGH, so I had to walk around. The pedestrian pathways around there really annoy me already; someone has only thought about people going to/from the T, rather than through foot traffic. (Anyone looking at the Boston end of the Longfellow Bridge sidewalks can see that there's no assumption people will walk off the bridge onto the streets, rather than to the exercise paths along the river.)
Even though it's not my holiday, being alone while the world trumpets the glories of being partnered (ok, in a commercial way that's annoying and not what I'd want a relationship to require) is not a happy thing, bringing out my inner curmudgeon. I am blessed with other kinds of love, but it can be hard to hold onto that sometimes.
Reminder to self: sufficient sleep and lots of veggies give me lots more spoons and a much better outlook. Too many low-quality carbs, not so much.
I shoveled a couple of inches of snow before heading in this morning. It was already sleeting by the time I finished, so I worried I'd come back to a sheet of ice, despite the ice melt, but it changed to snow again as I walked. I'd rather have snow under the ice, if we're bound to get ice: it's a lot easier to clear, and having the give of something underneath (if it's not cleared) makes footing less treacherous.
Given that the islands of the Abarat are always one time (7 A.M., midnight, whenever), how can there be history? How do you describe the passage of time when there isn't any. Except that things do happen in some kind of sequence; how is that dealt with?
I walked in to work today. I was a little off my usual pace, but otherwise it was mostly unremarkable. A little sliding in the snow, much avoiding of brown slush thrown up by passing cars. Oh, and lots of overheating, partly due to double socks (I wore the Limmers, and two socks is a good idea with them, even though my feet are apparently larger than they used to be) and double hats (one for warmth, one for its brim, necessary for the spectacled when walking in precipitous weather), and partly due to using slightly different muscles than usual. I didn't want to divest anything, though, since the layer underneath would then get wet. I sweat enough that I'm glad to have a spare T-shirt at work.
One annoyance: the T has blocked off the route I usually take under the Red line at MGH, so I had to walk around. The pedestrian pathways around there really annoy me already; someone has only thought about people going to/from the T, rather than through foot traffic. (Anyone looking at the Boston end of the Longfellow Bridge sidewalks can see that there's no assumption people will walk off the bridge onto the streets, rather than to the exercise paths along the river.)
Even though it's not my holiday, being alone while the world trumpets the glories of being partnered (ok, in a commercial way that's annoying and not what I'd want a relationship to require) is not a happy thing, bringing out my inner curmudgeon. I am blessed with other kinds of love, but it can be hard to hold onto that sometimes.
Reminder to self: sufficient sleep and lots of veggies give me lots more spoons and a much better outlook. Too many low-quality carbs, not so much.
I shoveled a couple of inches of snow before heading in this morning. It was already sleeting by the time I finished, so I worried I'd come back to a sheet of ice, despite the ice melt, but it changed to snow again as I walked. I'd rather have snow under the ice, if we're bound to get ice: it's a lot easier to clear, and having the give of something underneath (if it's not cleared) makes footing less treacherous.