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Booklog
Running with Scissors by Augusten Burroughs
My mother is standing in front of the bathroom mirror smelling polished and ready; like Jean Nate, Dippity Do and the waxy sweetness of lipstick.
East of Eden by John Steinbeck
The Salinas Valley is in Northern California.
The Straw Men by Michael Marshall
Palmerston is not a big town, nor one that can convincingly be said to be at the top of its game.
Vineland by Thomas Pynchon
Later than usual one summer morning in 1984, Zoyd Wheeler drifted awake in sunlight through a creeping fig that hung in the window, with a squadron of blue jays stomping around on the roof.
Collected Fictions by Jorge Luis Borges
In 1517, Fray Bartolomé de las Casas, feeling great pity for the Indians who grew worn and lean in the drudging infernos of the Antillean gold mines, proposed to Emperor Charles V that Negroes be brought to the isles of the Caribbean, so that they might grow worn and lean in the drudging infernos of the Antillean gold mines.
Finished
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posted Sunday, February 3, 2002
Monte Cristo with Jelly, Please
 This Saturday-night-movie-with-Lindsay ritual is setting a record for me. Three weeks in a row now. Tonight, we saw The Count of Monte Cristo, a fully satisfying film with beautiful actors (per Henry Cavil to your right), gorgeous landscapes, revenge, love, and intrigue. A definite should-see. I had considered going out tonight, but after returning a full two-and-a-half hours later, I'm exhausted and merely looking to catch a few good hours of sleep while the gettin's good. It seems lately all I've wanted to do is sleep. Hopefully, the actors in my dreams will be as "dreamy" as in the movie tonight.
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