It is remarkable how thirty seconds of conversation with one's mother on the phone can reduce one to a haggard, much-put-upon teenager (I believe the word is petulant). It's inscrutable, it is in no way scrutable. I'm reasonably sure I can do marginally well at being an adult, thank you. In other words: I know she means well, but she can still drive me crazy like nobody else.
In other news: I'm doing the dishes, about to boil some eggs, and then I'm going to bake cookies tonight. I have to get to work on another draft of the story and possibly listen to some Joni Mitchell while I do it.
PDK's Ubik is highly recommended, but I'm not sure it's still in print despite being on Time Magazine's list of 100 most important books since 1923. I'm halfway through, and will be writing up an extensive post on the thing once I've finished.
Comments (3)
Adult sci-fi tomorrow (Fri.) night? 7 o'clock show? Possibly followed by... dessert?
Posted by Steph | August 3, 2006 10:52 AM
Posted on August 3, 2006 10:52
Sounds good to me, dollface. I'll call you tonight and leave a message regarding the details.
Posted by ben | August 3, 2006 11:48 AM
Posted on August 3, 2006 11:48
Sounds smashing!
Posted by Steph | August 3, 2006 12:41 PM
Posted on August 3, 2006 12:41