Today has been a wild toggle between things that were fun and being disastrously exhausted and in pain, but these things happen. Met up with
rushthatspeaks after their Easter morning service and then with
eredien. Ran into
nineweaving on her way to Breaking the Code. Collapsed in the afternoon and finished Wittgenstein's Poker (2001), from which I had been temporarily derailed by the acquisition of Pat Barker's Regeneration (1991), a novel which I love dearly and do not understand how I missed for years. In the later afternoon, there was ham; in the evening, there was hanging out. I have to get up at stupid o'clock to see
rushthatspeaks off at the airport. I have tickets for The Birds (1963) at the Coolidge Corner Theatre in the evening, however, so that should be fun, assuming my eyes still focus.
The philosopher who does not have a livejournal has said he'll get one if I join Facebook. I should have known from that snazzy black jacket that he was Satan.
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The philosopher who does not have a livejournal has said he'll get one if I join Facebook. I should have known from that snazzy black jacket that he was Satan.