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Mar. 4th, 2002 09:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
quislibetIt's been a few days since I posted here...
Friday, for St. Davy's Day, we had potato-leek soup. (And Thursday was apparently Repetitive Strain Injury Awareness Day, in honor of which we chose NOT to make risotto.) Then we watched "Mystery Men" on videotape, which I had not seen since it appeared in theaters.
Saturday I studied a bit and worked briefly at the Salem Athenaeum. While reshelving a few books I noticed a medieval murder mystery, post-Cadfael, called "The Foxes of Warwick" or something similar that made me think of Jack Nicholson, in which the murder victim, discovered by Lord Such-and-such's foxhounds, was named "Reynard" or a variation thereof. I think it's kind of lame to have a character named Reynard in such a situation. It's like characters in "The Crow" -- if you're a bad guy, just don't kill anyone whose name recalls a bird of the family corvidae and you should be safe from vengeance from beyond the grave.
And don't get me started on "E. Nygma."
Anyway, in the evening we ran some errands in Harvard Square. J. returned some area rugs to Urban Outfitters which utterly fail to harmonize with our living room -- but it needs something, dammit; the only fault our landlords have is that they painted the hardwood floor Martha-Stewart green -- and I ran into Tower to pick up a trinket for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ta_chuang and the new Cranes album for myself. A quick and tasty bit of spinach pizza from Pinocchio's, the best cheap food in Harvard Square, and then we were off to the home of the aforesaid trinket-recipient and silas7 for our second party appearance in two weekends, roughly equalling our party attendance for all of 2001. A pleasant time, and a somewhat more effective execution of the "leap out and surprise"
maneuver than the time when poor James A., self-proclaimed but not apparently very alert lookout, was caught unawares in a shocked and suspicious crouching position by surprise-party-honoreedethany
several years ago ("James, what are you doing in my living room?").
I also remember from that party the numerous false alarms, including when Columbine, hearing her own keys rattling at her side, called out for immediate silence.
But I digress.
Sunday -- I studied. Finished (I think) the revision of the barbarian chicks paper for Scotland, and spent possibly too much time tracking down family connections of people dead for 2000 years.
Oh, foranechoic -- your reply to my entry the other day about "Edward, Edward" and so on has yet to appear on the actual LJ website for me to reply to, although my notification e-mail shows that it exists, so I'll just note that that was in fact the song Steeleye Span was singing.
Anyway.
This new Cranes album is very mellow. Kinda dull, actually. Alas.
Friday, for St. Davy's Day, we had potato-leek soup. (And Thursday was apparently Repetitive Strain Injury Awareness Day, in honor of which we chose NOT to make risotto.) Then we watched "Mystery Men" on videotape, which I had not seen since it appeared in theaters.
Saturday I studied a bit and worked briefly at the Salem Athenaeum. While reshelving a few books I noticed a medieval murder mystery, post-Cadfael, called "The Foxes of Warwick" or something similar that made me think of Jack Nicholson, in which the murder victim, discovered by Lord Such-and-such's foxhounds, was named "Reynard" or a variation thereof. I think it's kind of lame to have a character named Reynard in such a situation. It's like characters in "The Crow" -- if you're a bad guy, just don't kill anyone whose name recalls a bird of the family corvidae and you should be safe from vengeance from beyond the grave.
And don't get me started on "E. Nygma."
Anyway, in the evening we ran some errands in Harvard Square. J. returned some area rugs to Urban Outfitters which utterly fail to harmonize with our living room -- but it needs something, dammit; the only fault our landlords have is that they painted the hardwood floor Martha-Stewart green -- and I ran into Tower to pick up a trinket for
ta_chuang and the new Cranes album for myself. A quick and tasty bit of spinach pizza from Pinocchio's, the best cheap food in Harvard Square, and then we were off to the home of the aforesaid trinket-recipient and silas7 for our second party appearance in two weekends, roughly equalling our party attendance for all of 2001. A pleasant time, and a somewhat more effective execution of the "leap out and surprise"maneuver than the time when poor James A., self-proclaimed but not apparently very alert lookout, was caught unawares in a shocked and suspicious crouching position by surprise-party-honoree
dethanyseveral years ago ("James, what are you doing in my living room?").
I also remember from that party the numerous false alarms, including when Columbine, hearing her own keys rattling at her side, called out for immediate silence.
But I digress.
Sunday -- I studied. Finished (I think) the revision of the barbarian chicks paper for Scotland, and spent possibly too much time tracking down family connections of people dead for 2000 years.
Oh, for
anechoic -- your reply to my entry the other day about "Edward, Edward" and so on has yet to appear on the actual LJ website for me to reply to, although my notification e-mail shows that it exists, so I'll just note that that was in fact the song Steeleye Span was singing.Anyway.
This new Cranes album is very mellow. Kinda dull, actually. Alas.
