Sunday, October 16, 2005

Back to my old habits

Laptop imploded again. Virus? Worm? Hardware malfunction? Fuck me and call me a Luddite, I don't care. Bought four books the other day because I honestly cannot live without a good read. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's "The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes" (good if a bit predictable -- too many childhood TV memories of Wishbone); Frank McCourt's, "Angela's Ashes" (I can play the score on the piano so it was an obvious choice -- hello Pulitzer!); Salman Rushdie's "Shalimar the Clown" (I've been waiting weeks. A French talk show panelist accused him of using too many "similes" which he readily defended by saying it's impossible to write without using them! En garde!) and "Female Chauvinist Pigs," by Ariel Levy (I need to know I'm not the only one who thinks chicks with loaded tits give Mardi Gras a bad name).

Happy, happy, happy. Except the little embarrassing fact that I continue to subject myself to disgrace by carrying on a courriel correspondence with M. Biologique. Although agreeing to meet with him is still out of the question. My most recent missive contained this:

"What games?!?! ... You have the Casanovic ego of Rock Star Jesus! (Had, you know, Jesus strummed tunes on his hollowed-out-crucifix guitar for his Marys backstage and Peter'd out their Pauls then blamed his behaviour on his screwed-up childhood -- damn that horny God and his frankincense!)"

Signing off from the school library after another shopping excursion,

Lily

***

HaiPhia: "What's your budget? How much are you willing to pay for a wallet?"

Lily: "Hm, I don't really have one. I tend to go over if I really, really like something."

HaiPhia: "Oh. I see. That's good."

Lily: "Why?"

HaiPhia: "Because with an attitude like that, you'll ... always ... be broke."

Ain't that the truth?

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