Of reading and penetrating cold

I love how sometimes only 1 day can be of such awesome that writing becomes a giggling Herculean task.

Last night was indeed epic, even if it was not nearly what I had envisioned it to be. El was, as always, freaking legendary. It is a miracle that the woman can move without stepping over the supine supplicators for her affection. And, dear gods, those legs. If ever you are short of cash and in need of a drink, dress her in 4inch fm-boots and take her to a “club”*. Oh and I managed to freak out a dominee. It’s been awhile /grin. Met some lovely people, I guess those “clubs” have their pro’s. (muahahaha…no I kill me, really)

This morning I woke up to rain. Which turned into honest to goodness Scotland sleet. Global warming ftw! Hid away in Tall Stories. Both Beautiful Pagan Redhead*** and Delightful A are on my top 6 dinner party guests. Delightful A opened Milan Kundera to me and 4 other awesome books which I cannot wait to read. If you have time and are in the area, go there. Seriously. It is a joy comparable to dark chocolate mousse or listening to a CC mixed tape**. Met The Blonde Engineer for a much belated bday lunch and he too only after a few minutes, and some enthused nagging, bought 2 books. On soup. In time he might upgrade to non-happiness-of-the-mouth reading. Well, one can hope.

CC, The Lovely Redheaded Photographer and I made a paprika goulash and are swimming in music which melts bones and movies…oh hooking up soundsluts rocks. I love my life. I really do.

1. Word of the day: salacious

2. Insight of the day: I am a rocker. Even trying to gyrate to crap rythms last scoffed at when 13 is several levels of not ok.

3. State of the pool: A beautifully aged claret.

4. Random thought: It rained slush puppy today.

5. Awesomest lines: Milan Kundera – Slowness. There is far too much here so let’s start with page 4 -

Speed is the form of ecstasy the technical revolution bestowed on man. As opposed to a motorcyclist, the runner is always present in his body, forever required to think about his blisters, his exhaustion; when he runs he feels his weight, his age, more concious than ever of himself and of his time of life. This all changes when man delegates the faculty of speed to a machine: from then on, his own body is outside the process, and he gives over to a speed that is non-corporeal, non-material, pure speed, speed itself, ecstacy speed.

*I rarely use inverted commas and with good reason. But in this case it is warranted. Why on earth people have a desire to spend time in a place where the patented once-over-and-then-dismissed/adored-look is so prevalent that eyes water at the small African country crippling energy expediture is beyond me. /shudder. No. Just no. If I want my posterior manhandled I’d rather commit an act of freedom fighting and have someone be my female canine companion.

** Yes. I am that old.

***For some reason I am inundated with gorgeous carrot-tops. I guess I need to see better..oh it was lame but I enjoyed it :)

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This entry was posted on Saturday, August 1st, 2009 at 8:38 pm and is filed under Books, Social fluttering, YGM. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.